Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 132791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
I didn’t like his patronizing words, though I privately admitted he was much older than me. Beyond the ten years that stood between us. He was forged in a work camp, grew up orphaned and haunted. He built businesses, destroyed lives, orchestrated entire operations.
Meanwhile, I was still figuring out how to get a high school diploma so I could pursue a higher education.
I took a sip of my coffee, shrugging off his comments.
“What’s going on?”
I put my cup down. “Imma is making me go to Mama’s birthday dinner today.”
“Is she now?” He gave me a wry once-over. “Maybe you should stop taking orders from the help.”
“I think we should go.”
“I’m going either way,” he surprised me by saying. He didn’t ask me how I felt about it or invite me to come. And it was yet again a reminder that he may worship my body, but he didn’t care one iota about the rest of me.
“That’s news to me.”
“Brennan’s gonna be there. We have some Bratva shit to discuss. Tierney is also bringing the Keatons.”
He intended to go without me. That infuriated me. It was my family. And he knew how I felt about my mother.
“How dare you make plans with my own family behind my back?”
“Careful now, Lila.” He put his coffee cup down. “That was never a part of our agreement.”
“I don’t recall ever agreeing to anything other than sitting on your face.” Anger tainted my cheeks pink. “Everything beyond this scope is open for negotiation.”
He ran his tongue over his teeth to suppress a smile.
“That includes being your wife, by the way. We make the rules as we go. One of them is you share your social calendar with me. Always.”
He sat back, looking almost like a proud father. “Excellent spine, Gealach. I suggest you use it on your mother tonight. I, however, don’t take orders from anyone. Least of all a teenybopper.”
“So you won’t do it?”
“No.”
His answer scorched a hole in my chest.
“Guess you’ll have to see my next move, then.” I forced out a smile. “We should take her a gift.”
I couldn’t shake off the sting of his rejection, though. I loathed when he made plans without me. Even more worrying was that there was Bratva news. Did that mean Alex was back on American soil? That soon a Mafia war would follow?
“I’ll handle it.” Tiernan stood up swiftly, grabbed his coffee, knocked it back like it was a shot, and shrugged into his light jacket.
He stopped briefly on his way out, assessing me with that precious gem eye of his. He tipped his head down, fusing his mouth with mine. I immediately groaned and surrendered to the kiss, feeling his hand cupping my bare knee under my summer dress, climbing up, brushing the seam of my opening ever so softly through my panties. Another yelp escaped me.
I opened my thighs for him automatically, craving more. His mouth disconnected from mine, trailing down the side of my throat, nibbling and biting as he tugged my underwear sideways, his rough fingers teasing and stroking my entrance. I shuddered all over, knowing Imma was in the other room, and that she could walk in on us any minute now. See me with my legs spread for him, fully dressed, letting him toy with me like I was his own personal plaything.
His middle finger grazed my slit, penetrating me halfway, while he pushed his thumb against my clit. I loved how he touched me. How he read me. How he took my cues and followed through. He was an assassin in every fiber of his body. Attentive to the shallowest breath of his target. I arched my back, offering him my strained, taut nipples through the dress.
Tiernan used his free hand to tug at the top half of my dress. My breasts bounced out, so heavy and full I barely recognized them as my own. My nipples were also two shades darker.
My husband leaned down to pluck one of my nipples, sucking it into his mouth, trailing the tip of his tongue over the outline of it, picking up speed between my legs, shoving two fingers in and out of me. I moaned harder, louder, squirming, knowing I was being shameless and improper, and that Imma could no doubt hear us.
And I didn’t care.
I could excuse myself by arguing he was my husband. But the truth was, even if he were nothing but an acquaintance, I would still let him have his way with me.
The first tingles of an orgasm spread like wildfire through my body, heating it to a dangerous temperature.
“I’m close,” I panted, placing my hands on his face, moving his mouth to my other nipple that felt exposed and bare and cold.
A thick, tight knot of pleasure uncurled beneath my bellybutton, threatening to tear my body apart. My orgasms were always so…violent.