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I grip her ass to grind her hips against mine, and she writhes. With my cock buried fully inside her, I guide her toward her breaking point, shoving myself against her inner spot. She tightens around me, her pussy clenching my cock and her thighs viselike around my hips. I twist my fingers in her hair as she rides me through her orgasm. I love being the one to cause her pleasure like this.
So long as she knows who’s really in charge.
When she’s sweaty and spent, collapsed against my chest, I give her a few seconds of recovery. Then I pull her hair so we’re eye to eye again.
“You don’t get to order me,” I growl. I tilt my hips to remind her I’m still inside her tight pussy, and if I wanted to pump her full of my come, that’d be my choice.
“I didn’t mean t—”
I cut her off with another forceful kiss. If she’s dedicated herself to being married to the mafia boss, then I’m going to show her what that really requires. I tighten my grip in her hair. She winces but doesn’t cry out.
“You told me to come inside you,” I say. “So I’m going to come in your mouth.”
I let go of her hair. Brioni’s eyes are wider than ever. Not with fear, but with that fierce determination of hers. Her expression is steel.
She shifts her hips once, a little teasing maneuver that I didn’t expect. I try not to react as she slides herself off me. She takes her damn time about it, as if relishing every millimeter of my cock. I should tell her to hurry up, but being in her pussy is too fucking good.
When she finally pulls herself free, I stroke my cock lazily, enjoying the feel of her wetness on my shaft. Then she’s lowering herself to her knees. Folding her lanky body into the footwell as she places two gentle hands on my thighs.
Fuck. I almost come from the sight of her on her knees between by legs. She gazes up at me with that adrenaline-fueled lust in her eyes, then glides her tongue up my cock.
When her warm, wet tongue reaches my head, I explode.
I grab my shaft in one hand and her hair in the other. With her mouth obediently open, I spurt my hot come onto her tongue. Then I shove myself into her mouth, and she wraps her lips around me as I pump my seed down her throat.
She swallows every last drop of me.
I think I say her name, tell her how good she is, how good of a mafia wife she’ll be. Because Brioni Rose Timmons is perfect. If she gets off on danger like this, then she has what it takes to thrive in this dark underworld. And if this is who she’s been all along, then I’ve already found my soulmate.
There’s no other bride for me.
Chapter 28
Brioni
I really, really enjoy things I shouldn’t.
The adrenaline rush of dangerous driving, followed by climbing onto Liam’s lap and making love to him with reckless abandon—all of it was pure exhilaration.
Spending my days at the tailor shop feels almost banal by comparison. But I sink myself into my work, fulfilling the tasks I’ve committed to. Like Cora said, I’ll need a healthy outlet for this life.
The whir of my sewing machine soothes me, in chorus with Antoine’s across the shop. The floor of hand-knotted rugs between us seems to have an extra depth to its colors these days. My bright, sunshiny life as a seamstress counterbalances the darker thrills of mafia life. It makes the danger that much more of a rush by comparison, and I’ve only dipped my toe into this new world.
A few feet away from my workstation, Gus stands in grumpy silence between me and the front door. With his unwavering upright stance, he doesn’t look like he sustained any horrible injury from Liam’s punches, as brutal as they were. My heart cries whenever I remember the way Gus spluttered on the asphalt.
Antoine doesn’t like having Gus inside the shop, which is understandable. Gus’s overtly tough-guy presence is intimidating. And although he hasn’t driven away any of our customers, there’s an extra tension to every conversation.
But his presence in the shop is non-negotiable. The order came directly from Liam during his rage-filled shouting at the airfield, right before he punched Gus to the ground. When Liam’s angry, he’s scary, a crystal-clear reminder of the violence he’s capable of. Witnessing that element of him caused my whole body to shake. It made me nervous, but also a tiny bit… thrilled.
I know my stomach shouldn’t flutter at the thought of Liam’s dangerous side. And yet, I can’t help but feel intrigued by that part of him, the way he wields such power. I’ve always known he’ll make a good leader for the O’Sullivans, and seeing the evidence makes me that much more confident in him, that much prouder to be at his side, even if it’s just for now.
From his spot against the wall, Gus keeps his awareness trained on the glass storefront and all the people walking by. I feel awful for him, especially knowing that everything he endured from Liam was entirely because of me. I’ve told Liam that it wasn’t Gus’s fault, and I’ve apologized to Gus profusely, but it seemed like neither of them was swayed by my words.
While we’re in the shop, Gus only lets me out of his sight when I go to the bathroom, or when I’m changing in and out of my in-progress wedding gown.
Antoine’s creation is magnificent. It’s ivory satin with a chapel train, featuring slim long sleeves for the winter wedding. Our winter wedding.
Whenever Antoine has me stand in front of the mirrors, I do my best to keep my mind blank, not to feel one way or the other about this supposedly emotionless arrangement. But I can never truly empty my thoughts, not with Liam’s words ringing in my head.
