24. You’re Mine, Baby Girl
Chapter twenty-four
You're Mine, Baby Girl
WRAITH
áine is so fucking tight, it's like trying to fit my cock into a well lubricated vice.
She's wet and so damn ready, but her sweet tunnel was a snug fit for my fingers. Swollen from her climaxes, her tender flesh can't decide if it wants to suck my cock in or try to keep me out.
There's only one way this is going to go. And it's not going to be me pulling out.
"I want inside." I rock us so my dick slides in another inch. "But we're taking it slow."
"I don’t want slow," she pants. "I want you in me." She shimmies, trying to slide further down my engorged cock and she gains another inch, that delicious, slick heat clasping me like a fist.
The layers of her full skirt hide her intimate flesh from my eyes now, but her big tits sway with every movement, taunting me, their raspberry tips just begging for my mouth.
She's too short for me to suck on them without bending us both into pretzels, so I settle for cupping one of the lush mounds and pinching that tempting little peak.
"Oh, Kieran, yes! Please, big guy, do it again," she cries, her gaze feverish with lust.
This time, I pinch harder and she gives a keening moan, her head dropping back in a pose of total abandon. My grip on her plushy hip tightens and I rock our bodies together, pushing deeper inside. Have I ever taken this long to get inside a woman?
I'm big. Scarily big for some women. It always takes an effort to get inside, but not like this.
I need this to be perfect for her. I need her to crave me like I crave her. To want me over and over again.
Tonight. Tomorrow. For the rest of our lives.
I guide her up and then pull her down as I thrust upward, forcing my thick cock further into her tightness with each surge upward of my hips. Squeezing her breast, I rhythmically pinch the nipple, reveling in the way her inner walls contract and her pussy gushes more of her juices every time.
"I could play with your tits all night." I thrust up, a little harder this time.
Her soft body against my hard fingers is so damn perfect.
"Kieran, please!"
Unable to help myself any longer, I jackknife into a sitting position and lean forward to suck up a love bite on the top of her breast. I want my mark here.
Would she let me do it?
A triquetra, the Celtic trinity knot representing the family she's given me but also how our souls are entwined for eternity. Her dead husband will have to live eternity in hell alone, because even in death, áine is mine now.
"Oh lord. That feels so good. Why does that feel so good?" she asks, her voice filled with needy confusion.
I clamp down lightly with my teeth before I release her soft skin. "Because your body was made for me."
Then I grip her hips with both hands and slam my mouth down on hers as I yank her toward me, finally pushing deep inside my woman.
She screams against my mouth, but she's trying to get closer to me, not farther away.
Wanting her touch now in a way I can no longer deny, I reach around áine and undo the clips attaching the cuffs to the chain.
Her hands come forward immediately and she groans into my mouth. I massage her shoulders, helping her muscles acclimate to the release of tension but she lifts her hands and grabs the back of my head, diving deeper into the kiss.
Our mouths and hips move together until she has all of me inside her and her pussy is flush with my pelvis. I hold her there, enthralled by the sensation of being fully inside her. Her pussy spasms around me and she makes a mewling sound against my lips.
Our rocking grows more frenzied until her honey soaks the base of my cock and runs down my balls. She gyrates her hips, chasing sensation against her sweet little nub.
I grab one of her hands and guide it under her voluminous skirts, until our combined fingers slide against her clit. "Touch yourself, baby girl. I want you to come on my cock and milk every last drop of cum out of me."
I withdraw my hand and grab both of her tits this time, kneading the fleshy mounds. "I want to fuck these."
"Not now," she practically whines. "I want to come!"
Her hand's going so fast she's going to rub that poor, abused nub of hers raw.
My balls ache with the need to come.
Fuck, I'm not going to last much longer. But I don't have to.
My baby girl comes on my cock with another scream, her pussy squeezing me with every contraction of her body in ecstasy.
Sliding my arms around her, pressing her body flush with mine, I thrust one more time and cum erupts from my balls, bathing her hot channel, claiming her in a way no other man ever will again.
Only me.
"Fuck yes, baby girl. You are mine!"
She pats my chest with the hand not still trapped between our bodies. "Yours." She collapses bonelessly against me, her cheek pressed against my heart. "So good," she slurs.
For the first time in my life, I wish I could make a baby with a woman I am fucking.
Fuck. Maybe I did. We didn't use anything and I'm not even a little sorry.
But I am responsible for her wellbeing. "Do we need to get the morning after pill tomorrow?" I make myself ask.
What I'm really asking is, does she want to make a baby with me?
"IUD."
That's not the answer I was expecting. She has an IUD? Why? She's not sexually active. If she had been, I'd have to kill the men she dated.
"You're on birth control?"
"For now. I'm supposed to get a new one this year."
Which means she's had it how long? I ask.
Some of the lassitude from her body bleeds away as her muscles tighten subtly. "After Joy."
"When you started working for that bastard, Shaughnessy."
She nods against my chest.
"You were worried about him pushing you into bed even then?"
"He was forcing me to work for him. He's an entitled asshole who gropes the women who work for him." Her body shifts and my mind wants to shut off in favor of renewed pleasure.
I don't let it. I put my hand against the side of her face, my thumb at her jaw, tilting her head up. I need her to look at me when I say this.
When her unique blue eyes with their brown ring around the irises meet mine, I promise, "When I kill him, he'll suffer."
It's a vow as sincere as the others I spoke today.
Her gaze steady, she nods. "Okay."
"Okay," I agree.
And then I stop being still.
With no condom to worry about, there's nothing to stop us fucking again.
And again.
And again.
"I know this is a mafia marriage," she says, her body already moving in sync with mine. "It's just..." She grinds against me making both of us shudder. "You're really good at this."
"With you." With other women? It's a mechanical slaking of lust, or pure stress relief.
With this woman? It can never be anything that simple. It's pure connection. And that's as fucking terrifying as it is unexpected.
"You are mine and I am yours." I flip us so I'm on top and she gasps as my newly engorged dick hits her inside in a different way. "Mafia marriage or not. There's no walking away for either of us."
She is everything I didn't know I needed.
I was happy alone.
No, that's a lie. I wasn't happy, but I was content. Now I have a wife and three daughters, a mother-in-law and one of my employees is basically my new sister-in-law. So much family at once should be giving me hives, but all I can think about is how to entrench them further into my life.
And whether or not I can convince áine to have another baby with me.
Even if she never wants to, I have three perfect daughters. And any asshole who thinks he can imply otherwise will feel the pain of my fists.
Or my knife.
I will cut Kenneth Shaughnessy's tongue out before I kill him.
"You." Thrust. "Are." Thrust. "Mine." Her, and everyone attached to her. "All of you."
"You better mean that," áine cries out as pleasure buffets her body.
"I do," I say for the second time today, these vows I'm making during sex as profound as the ones at our surprise wedding.
Her climax triggers my own and I let it come, let my seed mix with her slick and mark her again.
As mine.
My new favorite fucking word.
"Am I ever going to take my dress off?" she asks as our breathing slows down and falls into sync.
"Gimme a minute." Because just the thought of taking her dress off her and seeing her completely naked for the first time is doing the impossible: making my damn dick stir.
We finally go to sleep in the wee hours of the morning, but I still come to consciousness at 4:30 am like usual.
What is unusual is that I feel no desire to jump out of bed and start the day. It's not the short time I've been asleep. I've operated on nothing but catnaps for days before.
But áine is tucked against my left side. Warm and naked, her head is on my chest, her breathing even and slow. One of her hands rests right over my heart, like maybe she's claiming me like I claimed her.
She was already dozing when I carried her back to bed after a bath and she's been asleep ever since. The shocker is that I slept all that time too.
Having her next to me didn't trigger my atavistic instincts for self-protection honed so sharply by my life before the mob and made only stronger since.
I have slept next to people before. In the field, in circumstances that required it. Fitfully. A slight movement would have me lunging into full wakefulness. Not with áine.
She wasn't in this position when we went to sleep. I was spooning her, my hand cupping one breast, my other arm under her head. But in our sleep, I shifted to my back and she turned over, moving to lie half on top of me.
And didn't wake me up doing it.
I lie still, taking that in.
She makes a small sound and slides one soft thigh over mine without waking.
I put my hand on her hair reveling in the right to touch these silky strands. Because she gave it to me.
No, she didn't have any choice about marrying me. Not if she wanted to keep herself and the girls safe, but she did have a choice about letting me touch her.
About letting me restrain her.
She said yes to both.
All night long.
She's tuckered out and needs her rest, so I ignore the stirring in my groin those memories cause.
Later this morning, three excited girls are going to want to return to the park, but áine's not going to be there for the rope drop. She's sleeping in.
Without jostling her, I reach for my phone and text McLaren.