by Jane Henry
But who to trust? The goddamn frat boys they hung out with last night could be conspiring against us, for Christ’s sake. The guard at the door. I need her safe. But am I enough?
The door to our floor opens, and the two businessmen stare disinterestedly at their phones. I don’t take her back to our hotel room, though, but make a quick left, open the exit to the stairwell, and take her down a flight of stairs.
“Where’re we going?” she whispers. I put my finger to my lips, and she follows in silence.
I send Keenan a brief message, and half a minute later Carson texts me. Clan hacker and chief brainiac, he gives me what I need. A few minutes later I slip into a vacant hotel room.
“Is this necessary?” Fiona asks.
“Aye,” I tell her with a sigh. “We have to, lass. If the guard’s conspiring against us, we’re not safe at all.”
She sighs. “Right.” I let her hand go, and she sits heavily on a stuffed chair. “Lachlan, I think I want to go home. But not… not home, home.”
“What do you mean?”
I pull out a swivel chair across from her and sit down heavily. I take one of her small hands in both of mine and hold her gaze. “Tell me what you mean.”
She nods. “I don’t… I don’t know if I belong with Sheena and Nolan anymore. You know? They’re raising a family. And I’m not a child anymore. But I don’t know if it’s right being here, either. I thought at first I just missed Ballyhock. That I was just homesick. And there are loads of reasons for me to stay here, but I don’t want you… or Tiernan…” her voice trails off and she curses under her breath.
I don’t want to take this from her, I bloody well don’t, but without knowing who our enemy is or who’s targeting us, it’s like putting a fucking target on our backs in a field surrounded by snipers.
“You don’t have to decide that tonight, lass. Alright? Not tonight. For now, we have plans this evening. And tomorrow, you’ll go to class. I’ll watch over you and protect you.”
She takes my hand and leans her cheek into my palm, closing her eyes. “I know you will,” she says. “Don’t I know it. The only problem is, safe is so overrated.”
Jesus fucking Christ, the woman will undo me.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
She doesn’t answer the question. “Lachlan, you’ll be bored to death babysitting me while I go to class.”
“And I’d lose my mind if I did anything but ensure your safety,” I respond.
She watches me for long moments, then nods.
“Do you ever feel like you don’t belong?” she asks, and her eyes wander over my shoulder. “I still don’t really understand why my safety’s so important to the men of the Clan.”
I open my mouth to speak, but she holds up her hand to stop me. “No, I understand. I mean you don’t have to remind me that I’m the sister of Sheena, and that Nolan’s heir to the McCarthy throne. I know all that, but it isn’t what I’m talking about.”
I sit beside her on the loveseat and draw her onto my lap. “C’mere,” I tell her. “You tell me everything you want to, but I want you sitting on my lap when you do.”
She eyes me warily. “Could end up in trouble that way.”
“Don’t talk back to me, and you’ll be fine.”
She bites her lip and I swear I’m hard already. “That’s not the kind of trouble I mean.”
I know exactly what she means, but I don’t care. Keenan told me I’d have to mark her tonight, show that she’s mine. I won’t leave here unless she knows she belongs to me.
Christ, it’s so soon, though. We’ve gone from barely touching to… what?
“I know what you mean, lass,” I tell her, my voice affected, husky with arousal. I reach for her and tug her onto my lap. “But you can trust me.”
Can she? I’ve already pushed much further than I ever should have. But Christ…
Mark her as yours.
“Lachlan?”
“Aye?”
“You’re a million miles away.”
“Was just thinking about something, it’s alright. Now tell me what you meant earlier. Why do you find it hard to understand why your safety’s important to us?”
She sighs. She leans against me and places her head on my shoulder. I take her hand in mine, my thumb massaging reassuring circles to her delicate skin.
“Because I’ve never been important to anyone before. I mean… well, that isn’t true, and it isn’t what I mean, really.”
I know what she means, though.
“I think I get it, Fiona.”
“Do you?”
“Aye. It’s not that you’ve never meant anything to anyone before. You know you have. Everyone from Maeve to Sam to Megan loves you in the Clan. But that isn’t it, is it?”
She shakes her head.
“It’s that the people who should’ve made you important to them didn’t.”
Her father was killed and her mother didn’t love her. It leaves a certain lack in someone’s life. “I went through the same kinda thing almost, to an extent.”
She kneads my shoulder. “Tell me?”
I nod. “Aye. Well, until the McCarthy family I was an orphan. Brawled on the streets of Dublin for my money. Back then, they paid good money to see young boys bareknuckle fighting.”
“I could see that, yes.”
“Malachy saved me from a hard life. Brought me to St. Albert’s. Convinced Seamus, the late Clan Chief, to bring me on as one of their own.”
“How old were you?”
“Just an infant when I was orphaned. They took me into St. Albert’s as soon as I was of age.”
“Wow. You were only a child, weren’t you?”
“Aye. And I needed a lot. Discipline. Leadership. Guidance and education.”
“Love,” she supplies.
A lump forms in my throat but I swallow it down. “Aye. As any lad does, doesn’t he? Love. But I’ve felt for years… hell, still feel like it’s not something freely given. I suppose it might be different if children are raised a certain way? Like if they know from birth they’re loved?”
She nods.
“But when you’re adopted into a family, so to speak, I think you sort of feel like it could be taken away, don’t you?”
She nods. “Yes. Yes, that’s exactly it. I didn’t even really know how to say it until you said it yourself. How do you know that?”
“You think I’m only good to throw back a Guinness or look menacingly at people who’ll threaten to hurt you?”
I gather her to my chest and kiss the top of her head. I can’t ever leave this woman. I can’t ever let her think that she’s somehow lost my love. If we’re in… we’re all in.
“Look at your locket, lass.”
She lifts her locket and holds it in the palm of her hand.
“Open it.”
She obeys, her willingness to do what I tell her making me ache for so much more.
“Who’s that sweet girl in the picture?”
She smiles, a corner of her lip tipping up. Her freckled cheeks are so adorable I can’t help but bend and kiss them.
“The old me,” she whispers.
“What would you tell the old you if you could go back and talk to her?”
“I’d tell her to hold on,” she whispers. “That better days were coming. That soon, she’d be more loved than she’d ever think possible.”
She lifts her face to mine, her eyes hold mine for a split second, then I bend my mouth to hers. I’m only an inch or so away, her sweet breath kissing my cheek. I grin at her. I want to own this mouth. I want to own every inch of her. She leans in to kiss me and I teasingly pull away again.
“Lachlan,” she whines. “Are you toying with me?”
“Hard to resist,” I say with a grin. I finally capture her mouth with mine, our kiss no longer gentle but intense. She moans into my mouth and I kiss her harder, bending her to me until she’s flat on the loveseat and I’m framed above her. She yields to me so bea
utifully, I melt into her. My eyes close and I’m drowning in her scent, in her soft body, in the essence of everything about her.
I groan with the effort of holding myself back when we come up for air, but I have to.
“Listen to me, Fiona,” I whisper in her ear. “I just spoke with Keenan. And tonight, I’m taking you with me. I have to align myself with local mafia for our safety and protection. Do you understand?”
She nods, though she eyes me warily. Her lips are parted, and she eyes me as if I’ve just hung the moon.
“I do,” she says. “You’re taking me with you?”
“I won’t leave you anywhere without my protection. I have to do this.”
She nods but doesn’t speak.
I swallow. I’m not sure how to explain what has to happen. I won’t hurt her, I fucking won’t.
“Are you scared to take me there?” she whispers.
I close my eyes before I answer, then shake my head. “No, lass. There’s not much I’m afraid of, but what scares me is what I have to do before we go.”
Panic flits across her features and she bites her lip. “Do you need to… take another woman? Or something? Pretend to have an escort?”
“Fuck no.”
Her brow furrows. “Then what?”
I swallow, cup her chin in my hand and make her hold my eyes. “I need to mark you.” Now that I’ve said it, firm conviction fills me and my voice is louder, more confident. “So that when I go in there with you, they know exactly who you belong to.”
She blinks but doesn’t speak for a moment, then whispers a breathy, “Alright, then. Let’s do it.”
I grin at her. “Let’s do it? Really? You don’t even know what ‘it’ is.”
“It doesn’t matter, does it?” she says. “Because I trust you.”
I hold her hand and squeeze her to me. “Fiona, I won’t ever make you regret that. I fucking promise.”
She nods and smiles at me. “So, um. How will you… mark me?”
The thought of the multitude of ways I have to mark her makes my dick tighten beneath her arse, and my mind goes crazy with the thought of everything I could do. My ink along her neck, her arse welted and striped with my belt, my come on her thighs.
Marked.
Owned.
“We’ll start here,” I say. I tip her head to the side and bend my mouth to her neck, suckling the tender skin. She moans and braces herself on the loveseat. I cup her breast while I suckle her skin. I run my thumb along her hardened nipple and her breath catches in her throat. I suckle until I know I’ve left a mark that they’ll see clear as day. She’ll wear an up-do tonight.
Next, I bring my mouth to the top of her breast and do the same, sucking the sweet, gentle skin into my mouth until she arches into me and I leave a bright red mark there as well. When I’m finished, she’s panting, and the scent of her sweet arousal permeates the room.
I thumb between her legs, straight down at the apex of her thighs, over the fabric of her jeans. She moans and gyrates her hips, eager for more.
“Good girl,” I whisper in her ear. “Are you needy for me again, lass?”
“Oh aye,” she moans.
“Tell me, Fiona,” I say. I need to know. I have to know. “Have you ever been with a man?”
I can barely bring myself to ask her. If she has, I will hunt him down and kill him. He will die a slow and painful death, and I won’t regret a fucking thing.
“Of course not,” she says. “How could I without your knowledge? I’d be mad. You may have taken ages to claim me, Lachlan, but I certainly never loved anyone else.”
As soon as she says this, she flushes pink and bites her lip, but it’s all I need to hear. Within seconds, I’ve got her on her back, her top is pushed up to reveal her full breasts, and she’s pulling down her knickers.
“Wait,” I tell her. “Goddamn it, woman, I’m not prepared for any of this. Let’s ease into this.”
“Ease into it? Are you out of your mind, Lachlan? We’ve been easing into this for five fucking years.”
I slap her thigh and she moans and wriggles.
“What on earth are you afraid of?” she challenges me.
Until she phrases it just that way, I didn’t think I was afraid of anything.
“And anyway,” she continues. “You said you have to mark me. Why don’t you do a right good job of it, then?”
She reaches for my jeans and her fingers fumble on the button.
“Fiona,” I groan, the protest weak even to my own ears. “What the hell are you—bloody hell.”
She’s unzipped my trousers and removed my thick, pulsing cock. She eyes me hungrily and fairly licks her lips, which drives me fucking mad. “You don’t have to fuck me, then, Lachlan, though I daresay I’m ready for that. But there are loads of things we can do in the meantime, can’t we?”
“How do you know?” I ask, giving her what I hope is a stern look but failing miserably by the way she laughs. She slides off my lap and kneels in front of me on the floor.
“Because, Lachlan,” she says, holding my gaze. “I’m a woman, not a girl.” And before I can stop her, she runs the tip of her tongue along the head of my cock. If I had any self-control, it’s vanished into the ether. Can’t stop her now if I tried. I brace myself on the loveseat while she kneels in front of me and sucks me fully between her lips.
I’m cursing in guttural Gaelic, unable to stop myself, unable to stop her. Her eyes hold mine, so eager to please, I groan. She takes her mouth off my cock just long enough to give me a sidelong glance.
“And just so you know,” she says. “I’ve never done this before. But I’ve been waiting for this moment for a very long time. So you could say I’ve… researched. The internet’s a wonderful resource.”
“You’re bloody brilliant,” I tell her hoarsely. “Top of the class,” I groan. “A plus.”
She grins around my cock, cups my bollox in her hands, and rolls them while she suckles. I close my eyes and lose myself to her sweet mouth. I haven’t come in so fucking long I can’t even remember when the occasion was. And though I’m no virgin, I’ve never had a woman suck me off like this.
Like she wants to. Like she’s been granted the most amazing gift she could imagine.
Like I’ve just given her a goddamn lollipop.
“Good girl,” I whisper, running my fingers through her hair. “That’s so fucking good, love.”
She massages my thighs with her hands while she sucks, her head bobbing and her tongue performing fucking magic, until I know I’m going to come.
“Fiona,” I warn her. “I’m going to come, lass. Enough.”
She shakes her head and continues to blow me. I reach for a fistful of her hair and give her a firm tug. “You may be pleasing me, lass, but I’m the one in charge here. Enough.”
She narrows her eyes at me and continues. I feel my climax building, but with effort, I pull away.
Though the image of coming down her throat has me ready to fucking blow, I won’t do that to her. I can’t. I won’t defile her.
Jesus, not yet.
I won’t lie and say I don’t want to.
I take my cock and fist it in one hand while I fist her hair in the other. She slides her hand down between her legs.
“No touching. You’ll be punished for not obeying me. Bad girls don’t get to come.”
Her mouth parts and she’s grinning around a gasp when I come all over her pretty tits, her shoulders, her body. I groan as I come until every drop has marked her.
That would be the right way to bring her into the meeting tonight.
“You stay right there.” I leave her on the loveseat and grab a washcloth. I wipe her off and look at her, her lust-filled eyes on mine in wonder.
“You are in so much fucking trouble.”
Chapter 11
Fiona
Four years earlier
I arrive home after a night with friends. We went to the cinema and saw a scary movie, which I hate. T
hey terrify me, and I can’t sleep afterward. I suppose when you’ve had your own real-life horrors to face, it isn’t always fun facing fictional ones.
My guard’s a distance behind me, and I’m almost home, when I hear voices and a scuffle. I pause, listening. I hear Tiernan’s voice at first, clear as day, but then I freeze when I hear the second voice. I know that deep, husky tone, tinged with laughter but laced with authority. I can’t distinguish the words that they’re saying, but I know they’re behind the little house.
I forgot Tiernan was home at the weekend. I’ve missed him so, since he’s been sent to St. Albert’s. I know it’s good for him, though. Every time I see him he’s stronger, more confident, and the anger that lines his features ebbs just a bit.
I walk quietly, so they don’t overhear me. I have no idea what they’re doing, but I’d still rather not be seen. I hold my breath as I near the front of the little house. There are bushes to the right but to the left, there’s a little pathway. If my estimation’s correct, they’re behind the greenery that flanks the house. I can creep up and not be seen. Now I can distinguish the words.
“Always, always, commit to the fucking fight,” Lachlan says. “You’re here for a reason, and it isn’t to get yer arse whipped. In a ring is one thing, but when it’s life or death, you’re here to strike. To destroy. To kill.”
I’m close enough to see them now, but I crouch beneath the bushes. There’s an opening right in front of me that gives me the perfect view of both of them.
Oh my God. They must’ve been at this for ages, for they’re both panting and dripping with sweat. I watch in wide-mouthed fascination as Lachlan strips off his sweat-soaked t-shirt, his muscles rippling with the effort of yanking it up over his head, then whips it to the ground. He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, his hands wrapped for a fight, and Tiernan’s opposite him, doing the same.
“Focus on your job. Never run, but walk. Take your time so you can focus, and strategize each move. It isn’t a brawl but a strategy. After you’ve been trained with us, you’ll be able to do all this without thought. Inhale on defense, exhale with each blow.”
He strikes at Tiernan, who’s caught off guard, and I realize with surprise I don’t know who I’m rooting on. Tiernan lands a harsh blow, and after Lachlan gets his breath back, he approves. “Well done. But really drive your elbow into the punch, lad.”