6. Ciaran
Ciaran
“Do you even know how to drive?” Adeline asks, her body as far away from me as possible. She keeps her arm gripped on the door, like she’s trying to keep herself in place.
I use my indicator, changing lanes. “I know how to drive.”
“You only know how to drive on the opposite side of the road.”
One shoulder strap keeps falling down her arm, the material of her dress now worse for wear. Mascara bleeds down her cheeks, but there’s a stubborn, vain pride that has her lifting her chin despite it. Every few seconds it wobbles, though.
We’re in one of the Akatov fleet vehicles.
Jack had a set of keys on him and an SUV always strategically placed nearby.
I made Adeline help me move her former guard’s body into the trunk.
She did absolutely nothing to truly help, but I wanted her to understand that when I ask her to do something, she’s going to do it. Even if it means moving dead bodies.
A shuddering breath leaves her chest, which I ignore.
I didn’t plan for this opportunity—of showing up like Adeline’s knight in shining armor—but I took it.
She’s lucky I was there because she didn’t notice shit most of the night. She was so wrapped up in her own personal orbit, she never noticed the man edging closer and closer. At first I thought he was a freak, a man out at a bar ready to take his shot.
My fingers squeeze the steering wheel.
I’ll never let the Bratva intimidate me again. Not now that I know Boris can’t hire a bodyguard correctly.
How the fuck did no one notice that the guy meant to protect Adeline was a rival?
Why the fuck did she keep knocking back every single drink he handed her?
She sucks in a big breath, trying to breathe clearly. Her voice trembles. “I’m calling my dad.”
I watched Jack throw her phone down a drain when they left the bar, so I hand her mine.
“Go on,” I tell her. “Explain to your father how you got blackout drunk and didn’t realize that your bodyguard was about to rape you.”
She sucks in another breath. “D-don’t fucking say it like that!”
I laugh, I can’t help it. She’s in deep shit and still acting like a brat.
“How should I categorize it?” I ask, glancing over at her. Her entire brow wrinkles in panic. She jerks toward the road, still worrying about my driving skills.
“My dad will take care of Wallen,” she snaps. “And you’ll—”
“What? Get a reward?” I ask dryly, loosening my grip on the wheel and leaning back. This car costs more than the shitty flat I rent back in Dublin. “Tossed a bone like a good boy. For saving you.”
“You’re just like Jack,” she whispers.
I meet her eye. “No, princess, I’m really not. Because if I were, I’d take your cunt, break your neck, and then dump you down some drainpipe.”
The molten fire in her eyes makes me smile. She’s shaking but refuses to look away. That Akatov pride will be fun to break.
“Don’t call me princess.”
I stop at a red light. “Not to your liking? What should I call you instead? Love, sweetheart, slut?”
She flares at the final word. “None of the above! Drop me off right here.”
She fumbles with the door. It remains locked, and I drive off when the light turns green.
“I’m not going anywhere else with you.”
I pick up speed. “I saved your life, Adeline. The least you can do is show me a bit of thanks.”
“Oh, so I should just spread my legs open!”
The spark of fury makes me laugh. “Yeah.”
“And you say you’re not like Jack,” she sneers.
“I’m not.” I stop at another red light. “You’ll open your legs willingly for me.”
The air vibrates around us.
She’s every bit the spoiled princess as she asks, “And why would I do that?”
I hold out my phone to her again. “Go on. Admit to your father how you fucked up.”
“How I fucked up?”
“What do you think he was after?” I take a right turn, slowing as we get closer to the correct building. “Wallen’s men don’t go rogue.”
The business associate keeps a tight lid on his men. They’ve got arms deals up and down the Northern Hemisphere. He strategically placed his man with Adeline for a reason.
Adeline pushes her spine into the corner of the car. I like the little blank faces when she zones out deep in thought. This time her fingers keep curling and uncurling as she works through it all.
Her chest rises, her breath quickening.
“Wallen’s men don’t go rogue. Which means he authorized what was about to happen.” Red dims my vision for a second. It’s a dirty fucking play. “He wanted to send a message.”
She was lazy. She’d taken her protection for granted.
“But Wallen’s a lot smarter than that.” I angle the car along the curb, backing up to parallel park. “Because you make a play like that, go nuclear, well, shit, you’d want to get as much out of it as you can.”
I shift gears, putting the car in park.
“So I wonder, Adeline Marie.” I undo my seatbelt. She remains pressed in the corner as far away from me as possible. “What information do you think he got out of you before he decided he’d had enough of you?”
A black tear rolls down her cheek. Her wide eyes don’t break. The lipstick I wanted to smear all over her face has already faded.
She’s an absolute utter mess. My mess.
I offer her my phone. “Go on. Call your dad. Admit to him that you’re the reason Wallen now has something on him. That you’ve put your entire family at risk.”
Pain slices over her face.
She’s a perfectionist. She plans out her entire life on that phone of hers. The amount spent studying. The internship when most freshers are focused on getting shit-faced. She stomped around at the party last week, proving to the entire underworld that she can throw an event without any problems.
And she’s a daddy’s girl.
She texts him throughout the day. Reminds him about physical therapy for his shoulder. She’s an hour away from home, and in the three weeks she’s been away, he’s sent her multiple presents.
Would I be ashamed if I let down Uncle Cormac or Nora?
Yes.
It’s why I know Adeline will bend to my will.
“I suppose,” she whispers, “you’ll want me to introduce you to my father. Present yourself as my savior.”
I tut under my breath. “I already told you I’m not going to be patted on the head like a dog with a mere good job.”
Her brow quirks together. “Then what do you want?”
My thumb and forefinger grab her chin. “You.”
She jerks out of my hold. “What’s the fucking point? Just tell my dad you helped, and he’ll be happy to—”
“You’re not understanding. I’m not interested in being your father’s friend.”
That’s cute. She’s hurt on her father’s behalf.
My thumb traces the curve of her lips. “I’m not going to be a friend of the family. I’m going to be a part of your family.”
“Y-you. . .” Terror slides over her face, her fingers tugging down the skirt of her dress. “I’m not fucking marrying you!”
I laugh, dropping my hand. “I’m not fucking marrying you either, princess. But you have to admit I’ve done a pretty good job of protecting you, like any loving boyfriend might do.”
“Loving?” Adeline blurts.
“I’ve killed for you, haven’t I?”
She doesn’t like the joke. “If Wallen is after my family, I can’t just sit back and say nothing. I’m going to fucking tell them about Jack.”
“You’re going to tell them that Jack disappeared,” I correct.
“I will not let my family get hurt.”
I place a hand over my heart. “I’d be remiss if I didn’t help my girlfriend when I come across intel about Wallen planning something.”
“Fucking tell them now!” she snaps. “Instead of being an asshole.”
I grab her chin again. “I know it’s unfair not getting what you want. But I want more than just a pat on the back. And princess, you’re going to help me get it.”
She holds still, warring with herself. She has no idea how much power she holds in this moment.
Adeline could snap her fingers, and her dad would come running. I’d be the asshole who threatened her.
Except that would mean admitting that she’d been her family’s weakest link.
People like Adeline Marie can’t bear to admit a sin like that.
Her chin wobbles again, tears gathering in her eyes. “Are you going to hurt me?” she asks just like back in the alleyway.
“I don’t beat women, Adeline.” Ian’s mother would shoot me if I ever tried. I see the other question in her eyes. “You’ve never had a bit of pain with your pleasure?”
Adeline shakes her head furiously, and I laugh.
“You promise you’ll help me with Wallen?” she pleads, and God, I didn’t expect to be so turned on by it. It’s not just that she’s on her knees, but the idea that I am good enough to help the princess who’s been locked away in her tower.
I lean forward, and she stills. I press my lips to hers, tasting the salt left by her tears.
It’s gentle but quick, and I can’t hide my smirk when I hear her quick intake of breath as I pull away. I open my car door, stepping out into the new world I’ve just created.
“Where are we?” She slams her car door. “You know there’s a tracker on the car.”
“Looks like Jack drove you to your new boyfriend’s place.”
She wrinkles her nose.
I hold the door open. “Not everyone lives in penthouses in this city.”
I got the keys this morning, deciding that no matter what, I’d stay a bit longer in New York. Especially since the plans Cormac and I have can’t be rushed.
“You live here?” The statement is doubtful. A second later, I realize it’s not because she thinks the place is uninhabitable. “You’re Irish, aren’t you?”
“Born and raised in Dublin.”
“You were at the party last week.” In the light I notice her eyes are a lot more shrewd than I first thought. “In the courtyard.”
“I’m honored you remember, princess.”
Adeline makes a face at the nickname. Her steps are slow and cautious. She pauses on the stairwell, looking back at me. I motion for her to keep moving.
It’s a fifth floor walkup, and the front door is scuffed, but the inside is clean and furnished. The living room and kitchen are essentially one, and the one bedroom has an ensuite.
Adeline surveys the space, and I pause next to her, fixing the strap of her dress.
“What are we doing here?” she asks. “We’ve got the—”
“Take your dress off.”
Adeline’s chest rises and falls. I swear the curves of her breasts are taunting me.
“Take it off.”
The open back did little to protect her against the brick wall. I hated looking at the red, angry skin on our walk up here.
“And then what?” she tests.
“And then you’ll get on the bed.”
Her body tightens. Like she’s trying to pull herself together, to make herself as still and silent as possible, in an attempt to hide. But I’ve seen her, and I won’t be letting her go anytime soon.
“So I won’t be opening my legs willingly.”
I step closer, our chests touching. “Take your dress off and show me what the fuck I just saved from that piece of shit Jack.”
Her eyes dart to the door behind me.
I cock my head.
She takes a step back, the straps falling down on their own since the dress is ruined. It glides over her chest, unveiling her breasts. She didn’t wear a bra tonight.
Hunger flickers in me, but I tamp it down.
She continues to walk backward, her eyes never leaving mine as she enters the bedroom. The dress falls to the floor. She steps out of it, wearing only a thong and her silver, skinny heels.
The back of her legs run into the edge of the bed and she freezes. A second goes by, and then she lifts her foot.
“No, leave them,” I tell her of the shoes. “Sit down.”
She sits.
I stand over her, completely clothed. “Move back.”
Awkwardness vibrates off her, but she does as I tell her, scooting back until her legs hang over the mattress.
She jumps when my hand wraps around one ankle. I shake off a shoe and then work on the other. Her eyes blink wildly up at the ceiling.
She is a fucking gift, this woman.
My cock strains against my pants. Her nipples are hard. She doesn’t know it, but her fear feeds into my destruction.
She’s a spoiled rich princess, but I’m her knight in shining armor. The one who will protect this body. And control it.
I purposely had her keep her underwear on. She trembles as my fingers skim over her legs, hooking into the waistband. I move her waist, pulling the thong down. I make sure she feels the fabric smooth over her. I want her to be aware of the action. That it’s me undressing her.
Her lips are pressed together, refusing to make noise. To show any weakness.
The underwear drops to the floor. I push her thighs apart and force myself to remain calm.
A squeak comes from her, but I take my time openly staring at her pussy. At the curves of her body. Her hair fans out around her naked shoulders, and her tits shake slightly because she shivers under my gaze.
What I wouldn’t do to that pussy. I could spend hours tracing her cunt with my tongue, edging her until she’s begging me. There’s a savage need to tear into it with my cock.
I’ve seen the taunting messages she’s sent to boys. I promise, she’s never been fucked by a man.
My fingers linger against her skin, and she makes another noise when I trace the swell of her breast. I tweak her nipple, and her lips part, but her eyes dilate.
My cock hurts, confined in my trousers.
I lean forward, my hands around her waist. I notice how her body jerks and then stills. Desperation lines her face, but I don’t think my girl is scared. Desire haunts her, and I decide right then and there that I’ll kill as many men as it takes to keep her.
She’s expecting me to torture her. To touch her and tease her.
I keep the kiss delicate before moving back.
“Get under the covers,” I order.
She wraps the bedding around her like a shield. I turn off the lights, shucking off my clothes before I get in on the other side. I don’t touch her again, but I’m aware every time she peeks over at me.