I came here with this intention in mind, thinking I could kill two birds with one stone. Fulfill that fucking promise, and pick the woman I wanted to wed rather than have Da select one for me.
But now, I could have all that and more.
She wasn’t going to argue about my claiming her.
In fact, her desperation was going to make this even sweeter.
Far better for her to be beholden to me than vice versa.
Like any Irishman, I could scent a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow, but I had a feeling my pot was filled with platinum instead.
I wasn’t about to complain about that.
Did I look like a fool?
One foot in front of the other... tomorrow will be better.
Eight
Cammie
The way he stared at me was unnerving.
I was used to men being attracted to me. Used to seeing their eyes light up with desires I had no interest in allowing to flourish.
While I saw that in Brennan’s, I also saw a mixture of annoyance, disdain, temper, and a flash of something I couldn’t name.
I’d say it was triumph, but what about this situation was enough to make a man of his stature feel triumphant?
Nothing.
Not as far as I could see, anyway.
For days, I’d been wondering how I could meet this man, how I could start this conversation with him, and it seemed so unlikely that he was here.
Now I just had to get him to agree…
The urge to play with my bottom lip hit me, but I knew men like Brennan O’Donnelly were predators on the hunt for prey.
Any sign of weakness, even the slightest hint that the image I was projecting wasn’t as confident as I was working hard to make him believe, and I knew he’d be on me like a ton of bricks.
“Why would you be asking a silly question like that?” he rumbled, sounding so damn Irish at that moment that it made me second guess everything I’d overheard Inessa telling Victoria about our new allies.
Oh, she was smart. Not sharing anything about business or the like, but she spoke of them with fondness, with witty jokes that told me humor was a part of their fold.
Totally unlike ours.
“Because you helped get my mother killed, and left three little girls without any loving guidance in this miserable world we live in,” I told him woodenly. “I think you owe her enough to spare her daughter’s life.”
That had him rearing back, his shoulders colliding with the side of the door in surprise.
I knew it took a lot to shock a man like him—maybe I should get some kind of award?
Everything about him spoke of a cocksuredness that would, ordinarily, make me turn away from such a guy. But when the arrogance matched the man? That was like my form of heroin.
In someone who backed up their strength, their power, with every move they made, I wasn’t sure there could be anything more attractive.
Nyx wore his power around him like a cloak. It hid a lot of vulnerabilities, some I knew because I’d been around him long enough to experience them in the flesh—on the rare occasions he’d let me sleep with him, he cried out a lot in his sleep, and I knew he had terrible nightmares. On top of that, I’d been there when he’d been inked. Each new tattoo a mark of a pedophile he’d slain in his dead sister’s name.
He backed up his dominance with his lifestyle.
And Brennan was the same.
Except he wore a three-piece suit instead of a leather cut.
It felt disloyal to admit that I preferred the suit, especially how Brennan wore it.
He had close-cropped hair that was slightly tousled, in a way that had nothing to do with his hand running through it. But the cut was so good, so expensive, that it just added to his rugged appeal. He had gray-blue eyes that were shadowed by light brown brows, but that didn’t mean I didn’t feel like he could see into my very soul.
They were narrowed upon me, small striations having popped up along the sides as he frowned at me, evidently not appreciating my answer. His nose was long, and it led to a wide mouth, a flat upper lip with a prominent Cupid’s bow, and a pouty bottom lip that made me think things I shouldn’t be thinking right now.
Like, how perfect it would be to bite.
His chin and jaw weren’t as stubborn as Nyx’s, but there was power there too. A force of will that was different to the man I’d loved for years, but that told me he wouldn’t take any shit.
I liked that.
I needed that.
More than I wanted anyone to know.
Unwittingly, an ember stirred to life inside me.
I didn’t even register its existence, didn’t acknowledge what I didn’t sense, but it began to burn.
His long, strong form was so different from Nyx’s. He wasn’t bulky, but rangy, and it fit his tailored clothes to perfection. Though tall, over six feet at a minimum, the thin pinstripe added to his height, and made me feel like he was looming over me. Throw in a pair of Oxfords that gleamed so much it made me wonder if he had a spell on them that repelled the everyday dust from a stable, he was everything I wasn’t at that moment.
Polished.
Pristine.
Perfect.
I finally bit my lip, my defenses quivering, and knew it wasn’t my imagination when I saw his eyes darken.
“I didn’t get your mother killed. She got herself killed.”
Irritation had me spitting, “It takes two to tango.”
“And we were both insane when we disregarded the risks for some momentary pleasure.”
It was strange to think of my mother as a sexual being. In my mind, I still remembered her through the eyes of a teenager, where anything like that was disgusting in relation to your parents.
Mostly, I was perplexed by the distinct age gap.
For her, I understood it.
But Brennan O’Donnelly?
If he looked like this now, then I couldn’t imagine him not being able to get any woman he set his sights on...
“Are you an adrenaline junkie?” I asked warily, because I’d already been in limbo with one of those and I didn’t need it again. Not that I had a choice, of course.
Christ, my life sucked.
His scowl made an appearance. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“I’m just curious.”
“Well, don’t be.” His mouth pursed. “I didn’t get Mariska killed.”
That he was repeating himself told me I’d struck a nerve.
Good.
“For the longest time, I believed the raid was just an unhappy twist of fate.” Revulsion twisted its way inside me, unfurling like a snake uncoiling itself. “Her diary made me see things from a different perspective.”
“I’d like to see this diary,” he groused, shoving his hands into his pockets.
“You may.” I smiled. “After we’re married.”
“We’re not getting married.”
“We are,” I told him, my voice steely. “You promised her. It might as well have been a deathbed promise.”
“Just six years before she died, hmm?” He arched a brow at me. “Why the fuck would you even want to marry me?”
“To spare myself from a marriage to my father’s Sovietnik. You must have crossed paths with him at some point over the years. Can you blame me for resorting to blackmail?”
“So, I’m sloppy seconds?”
I shuddered with disgust. “You think I’d let that old pervert put his paws on me? I’d die first, and I will... I won’t marry him.”
His forehead puckered—he hadn’t expected that answer. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do. I’ll kill myself before I let my father control me to that extent. And his hold on me is nothing to what a husband’s would be.”
Just the thought of Abramovicz’s sweaty form heaving on top of me made my skin crawl. But what was worse? Being his wife. Having to obey him. Having to appease him. It was either that or face the prospect of daily be
atings, which ultimately resulted in my death anyway.
“You ran away before. Why not run away again?”
His question, and lack of concession, had me demanding, “And how do you know I’ve run away before? What the hell are you even doing here? You’re not exactly dressed for a ride.”
His top lip twitched. “I came to see you.”
That had me frowning. “Why? We’ve never met before... have we?”
He shook his head. “We haven’t.”
“So why would you come to meet me?”
He ignored my question. “Why won’t you run away again?”
My frown deepened. “Because Father won’t allow that. Not again. His intention is to see this through.” I tipped up my chin as I faced facts—my end was near unless I managed to convince Brennan to save me. “He’ll kill me if he catches me running, and I’d prefer to control how swiftly I die, thank you very much.”
“Wouldn’t we all?” he rasped, before he surprised me by storming toward me.
It was second nature to back off, to acquiesce, and I stumbled against the stall door, jumping when Terry neighed and nuzzled his nose into my back. Brennan didn’t even cast him a look, didn’t stop until I was pinned against the wall and one forearm was pressed either side of my head so he was looming over me.
Maybe I was a product of my environment—I’d seen the caked on foundation Mama wore from time to time. Or maybe I was as pathetic as I feared... but the way he looked at me, his gaze raking over my features, seeming to expose every single flaw, every single nuance, God help me, it was, I recognized with some sorrow, the most intimate gesture of my life.
Nyx had had me in positions that would make the people who wrote the Kama Sutra feel faint, but he’d never looked at me. Sure, his eyes had been on me, but he hadn’t seen the real Cammie.
He’d just seen a pussy.
A walking sex doll.
Brennan, well, he didn’t see that. He saw something else. Something I couldn’t put a name on.
He was so close that his silk suit brushed against me, his heat permeating the fabric so it burned me with its own brand too. He smelled like fire and sin and a whole host of other things I was pretty sure cosmetic companies didn’t pack into their aftershave, but my visceral response to him was unnerving.
The man had fucked my mother.
He’d been one of the catalysts behind her brutal death.
And yet, he’d brought her joy. A kind of happiness that three daughters couldn’t inspire in a woman—I’d read that in her diaries.
With that in mind, I rasped, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m wondering if you know what kind of man I am, and if you’re prepared for the repercussions of threatening me.”
Anger flashed in my eyes. “I know exactly what kind of man you are.” I could feel my lips curling into a sneer. “I’m just hoping you’re worthy of the faith Mama had in you.”
He tensed at that, and because I was so close to him, it transmitted itself to me, which, in turn, triggered a wave of emotions in me.
Relief.
Power.
So this was what it felt like to have it over someone, because with that slight gesture, he betrayed the truth.
Mama had been right to trust him.
Then, he destroyed that thought by moving slightly, and sliding one hand down to cup my cheek. He tipped my head to the side, his fingertips drawing the nerve endings to life. A shiver rushed through me as his breath brushed my mouth, before he let them trail up and over the curve of my jaw.
“Do you know you’re playing with fire?” he practically crooned in my ear.
“I’d prefer to be burned by you than by him.”
With our cheeks kissing, I released a shaky sigh when his stubble dragged against me, and though it wasn’t comfortable, it had me clenching the muscles in my stomach in surprise. His lips whispered along the skin he’d just teased, before his hand slid down to my collarbone.
The tips of his fingers trailed there a second, making my heart skip a beat as the tiny hairs at the back of my neck stiffened with the delicious sensations that he forced on me with the simplest of moves. Then, he cupped me there, and his hand was so large that it covered the entirety of my throat.
His thumb pressed against my pulse, and I was well aware that it was fluttering away like the panicked beats of the wings of a trapped bird. He pressed down and murmured, “I need to work on my street cred if you’re more scared of an old, fat fuck than me.” Then he dipped his head and forced our mouths to collide.
And he stole my breath.
Robbed me of it like he was a thief in the night.
I hadn’t expected this—why would I?
But a sharp gasp escaped me as he plunged his tongue between my lips with an ease that spoke of how comfortable he was in these situations, and reminded me of how uncomfortable I was.
I’d never been at ease with my body, had always felt like something being fucked rather than someone, but even as my mind spaced, and my brain whirred, he retained my focus by pressing down on my neck. Almost as if he knew when my thoughts were drifting, I’d feel the heavy pressure at the same time as his tongue stroked along mine.
It was wet and warm, and unlike Nyx’s kiss. I realized then that Nyx had always been disinterested in me, and had only wanted to fuck. Brennan, for whatever crazy reason, was into this.
More leverage over him, I thought, before he thieved me of that thought process by tilting my head to the side and pulling back, parting his teeth around my lip and biting down. That felt good and bad at the same time, and I registered the strange stirrings of warmth had begun to coalesce in my stomach as he let his free hand move down my arm, the calluses triggering a wave of gooseflesh into being as he grabbed my wrist and pressed it overhead. His fingers tightened on my throat in warning, and I knew he was telling me to hold it in place.
I obeyed.
I had no idea why.
But I did.
And when he did it again, with the other arm, in tangent with a biting kiss that made me melt into him, the gooseflesh didn’t just roll down my bicep, but it surged along my shoulders, at my nape, along my spine, making me feel things I’d never felt before.
A soft moan escaped me as he pushed his dick into my abdomen, pressing me up against the stable wall so that I was literally between two hard places. The pain he triggered when he bit down again had me gasping, and he took advantage. He no longer simply thrust his tongue against mine, I felt like he was eating at my lips, supping from them like I was a cool, long glass of water and he was dying of thirst.
Robbing me of breath with that kiss as he tightened his grip on my throat, my mind was no longer capable of rational thought, it was awhirl, like a hurricane was blasting through it, but that was nothing to my body.
I’d never felt anything like this before.
Sparks of pleasure ignited behind my eyes as, with every kiss, the pain from his bite was renewed. God, it felt so good! I groaned, my back arching as I thrust my tits against his chest, needing more, needing something.
I’d never felt so empty in all my life.
He speared a thigh between my legs like he knew what I was experiencing, and for a second, it almost nudged me out of my headspace, before he tightened his grip around my throat once more, and my hips bucked as I dragged my core against him.
Was this dry-humping?
Jesus.
Was it supposed to feel this good?
His lips ravaged mine, plundering and taking, but was it really that when I wanted to give him everything anyway? Thoughts of leverage had disappeared, and all I could focus on was the delirious drug that was slaloming through my veins that he ratcheted up and up like he was increasing the dosage with each and every thrust of his tongue against mine.
For the first time, I struggled to free my hands from his grasp, even though I’d never been so happy to be pinned in place. It was of their own volition, nothing to do with me
, as I chased more from him. The sensation of his hair against my fingers, the feel of his muscles as I clung to his shoulders to keep him close… to make sure he never stopped doing this.
Grunting, I fought back, my tongue tangling with his in the most intimate dance of all, unable to believe I was doing that, unable to believe the heat that was simmering with a life of its own inside my belly.
When he pulled back, he nipped at my lip again which had my head falling against the wall, the whisper of hurt making everything taste so much sweeter. I thought he was going to leave me, but he didn’t. His mouth dragged down over my cheek, scraping me a little with his stubble once more, which made my nerve endings hyper aware, as he relinquished his hold on my throat and found it instead with his lips.
A soft nip preceded him cupping one of my breasts, and as he squeezed the pliant flesh, he nuzzled the spot where neck met shoulder before he bit down. Hard enough to make me cry out. His knee surged higher, pushing up against my pussy, and I could feel it.
All of a sudden.
I knew what that light at the end of the tunnel was.
An orgasm.
It might as well have been a damn unicorn.
Gasping, my head rocked against the rough wall as he bit me again, before his hand slipped between my thighs and he held me there.
I wanted to grind into him, grind against him, but I didn’t. Couldn’t. I could feel him pulling away for real, and my dazed eyes took that in as I saw the feverish heat on his face, which told me he was as into this as I was.
Maybe more if the thick brand of his cock against my lower belly was indicative of anything.
“W-Why?” I whispered, not sure what I was asking, whether it was about the kiss, why he’d stopped, or the way he still held me firmly by the throat and the pussy.
“Because I’m Catholic,” he rasped, pinning me in place with more than just his body. I felt skewered in two as he grated out, “That means no divorce. That means forever, and forever is a long fucking time if we're incompatible.” His hand pressed harder against my pussy, and shamelessly, I wanted to ride it, wanted to see these delicious feelings come to fruition. A hard bark of laughter filtered from him as he drawled, “Though I don’t think incompatibility is going to be an issue… But whether you like the idea or not, Camille, there will be children. I’ll save you from that fat fuck, and I’ll stop you from having to sacrifice yourself, but—”
Filthy Sex: The Five Points’ Mob Collection: Four Page 7