She didn't get a chance to answer before he swept her into his arms.
35
He cradled her close to his body, a hurricane of emotion moving through him as he stepped up the stairs. She was his woman, and she was finally here in his home. In their home. Because he had meant what he said; everything he had belonged to her now. All the years he’d spent amassing wealth, buying property and stashing money in offshore accounts, hadn’t been pointless after all. He had enough to care for Evan years ago.
He’d continued for this.
Because deep down, he thought Jenna might come back, and he wanted to offer her the world when she did.
He just hadn’t wanted to admit it to himself.
She leaned her head on his chest with a sigh, and he tightened his arms around her. He wanted to take her to bed, reclaim her body as his. But he loved her too much to place that demand on her. He would let her sleep instead. He would take her tomorrow. And then he would call Adam and figure out what the fuck was going on with the Institute.
They reached the door to her suite and she lifted her head. “Where is your room?”
“My room is next to yours, of course.”
“Why aren’t we in the same bedroom?” she asked.
“I thought you might want some time alone with Lily. I didn’t want to confuse her.”
He hoped she might protest, tell him she was his and would always be his, and therefore it was perfectly fine for Lily to see them sleeping in the same room. She nodded sadly instead, and his heart skipped a beat, dread pooling like an oil slick in his stomach.
She reached up to touch his face. “I’m still figuring everything out, but I love you, Farrell. I’ve always loved you.” She met his eyes. “Now take me to your bed.”
36
Her heart thudded in her chest as he carried her farther down the hall. She looked in his eyes as he reached for the door and stepped into the room. She had a sense of it in her periphery — of luxury, satin and silk, the musky scent of him lingering in the air, another fire blazing in a marble hearth very like the others in the house.
But her eyes were on him, her body already priming itself for his touch as he crossed the room, set her gently on a bed that dominated the space. She sunk into the coverlet, feeling layers of goose down give way under her body. He stared down at her, his eyes almost hard with desire, a look she remembered from their past during the times when he struggled to maintain control.
To take his time when he wanted to ravage.
To consume.
To seize.
But she didn’t want him to maintain control. She wanted him the way she’d always wanted him. Intense. Hard. Fierce.
She got up on her knees and reached for his sweater, running her hands under the cashmere, letting them explore the rippling muscles, lingering over his nipples before she lifted his sweater, leaned in to flick her tongue over one of them.
He grabbed her wrist hard. “Do you know what you’re doing to me?”
“I know,” she said, looking into his eyes, then lowering her mouth back to his skin.
He sucked in a ragged breath as she moved her tongue over his skin. But it wasn’t enough. She wanted him naked. Wanted to be naked next to him. Wanted to feel the press of his warm flesh against her own. The rigidity of his body against the softness of her curves.
She lifted the sweater, and he ducked to allow her to remove it. He was a god. Perfectly formed. Forged in fire. She reached for his belt buckle and pulled it from the loops on his trousers, then unzipped them and removed his throbbing cock.
“Jenna…” His voice was a warning.
She didn’t care. She didn’t know how they would make it work outside of this room, but here in his bed, she wanted him the way he was, with no reservation.
She closed her hand around his cock, feeling it pulse in her hand. She stroked him, then lowered her mouth. But she didn’t get far before he stopped her, pushing her upright by her shoulders.
“If you’re going to suck my cock, we’re both going to be naked, Jenna.”
She let him lift her sweater, heard him suck in his breath when he realized she wasn’t wearing a bra. His hands lingered there, cupping her breasts, heavy with her desire, rolling her nipples between his fingers until the tiny black panties under her silky trousers were soaked through.
She squirmed, and he pushed her back on the bed, then pulled the pants from her hips. She thought he might take the panties, too, but instead he simply stared at her for a long moment.
“You’re so fucking beautiful it hurts to look at you,” he finally said.
“Then stop looking and touch me,” she said.
He pulled her ankles and brought her to the edge of the bed, then kneeled between her legs and spread them wide. She was aching for him, her pussy throbbing for the feel of his tongue, his finger inside her. He ran his hands up her thighs and she braced for him to push the lacy fabric aside, close his mouth over her sex.
But Farrell rarely gave her something so easy. He wanted to torture and titillate. Wanted to bring her to the edge of orgasm again and again before he gave her release.
He kissed his way up her calf, lifting her legs to his shoulders so he could nibble behind her knees before continuing to the fleshy inside of her thighs. She fisted the sheets as he got closer to the apex of her desire, then lifted her hips when his mouth closed over her pussy, licking and sucking through the lace of her underwear. It shouldn’t have felt as good as it did, but the fabric between his mouth and her flesh only heightened her awareness, creating enough friction, enough anticipation for the moment when she would feel his mouth against her skin.
She was throbbing for him, desperate to be filled with his cock, to stretch around him, feel him pushing so far into her it hurt.
“Please,” she gasped, her pussy already reaching for orgasm.
“Please what, baby?”
“I want your tongue on my pussy, Farrell. You know that’s what I want.”
“I know,” he said. “But I’m calling the shots now.” He stood between her legs, and she looked at him, her brain clouded over with passion that left little room for anything but need. “Take me in your mouth, Jenna.”
She sat up, wrapped her hands around his swollen cock, stroked him a couple times before she lowered her mouth to his head, flicked her tongue against the tip. He pulsed in her hand, and she closed her mouth around his head, sucking while she massaged his scrotum. He groaned, and she ran her tongue along the length of him, licking his balls while she continued stroking his shaft, feeling him get bigger and harder. She made her way back to his crown with her tongue and took him in her mouth, letting him sink little by little until she was deep-throating his cock, feeling it bump against the back of her throat.
“Fuck, Jenna. Take it all.”
She let him rest there a few seconds before she started moving, sliding her mouth all the way up, almost letting him fall out before she pushed back onto him, working the base of his staff with her hand while she stroked him with her mouth, sucked at his head, started the whole thing all over again.
He held her head, moving it faster over his cock, reaching for his own orgasm before he finally pushed her away. He leaned down and kissed her long and deep, his tongue invading her mouth before he pushed her back onto the bed and ripped the panties from her body with one swift tug.
He pushed her legs open so wide her thighs protested, then kneeled between her legs again, covering her pussy with his mouth in a couple seconds, like a starving man desperate for sustenance. She gasped as her hips came up off the bed. The sensation was exquisite, the hot slide of his tongue on her sensitive folds, sweeping over her clit as his fingers found their way inside her. He sucked on the little seed softly at first, then more aggressively as he moved his fingers in and out of her. He was still sucking when he took one finger out of her pussy and eased it into her other hole, slowly at first, then faster as she stretched to accommodate him, her body remembering all
the things they’d done together.
“Oh, my god…” she moaned, the orgasm gathering like a storm at the center of her body. He was everywhere — his mouth on her clit, making urgent circles, his fingers in her ass, in her pussy, occupying every available space in her body, making her his again as surely as if he’d planted a flag in her flesh.
She moved against him, lifting her hips against his mouth in time to the rhythm he set with his tongue and fingers. The orgasm was there for the taking, and she was going to take it.
His tongue moved faster, one finger plunging in and out of her wet heat as the other touched the sensitive nerves inside her ass, the sensations working in concert to send a bolt of lightening through her center. She pressed down on his fingers and reached for her pussy, spreading herself wider so she felt everything even harder. Even deeper.
It was all it took. She was tumbling through space, her body convulsing around his fingers, against his mouth, as she came ferociously in his hands, shuddering again and again as she cried out, still moving against him. He didn’t stoop until he’d wrenched every last tremor from her body, until she was limp on the bed in front of him.
She was still reeling from the intensity of it when he flipped her over, pulled her hips off the bed. He nudged her legs farther apart, and she knew her dripping pussy was fully exposed to him.
“I can’t get enough of you, Jenna. Never could,” he said, rubbing the head of his cock against her folds. “I hope you’re ready for me, because I’m going to bury myself inside you.”
“I’m ready,” she gasped, already throbbing again, dying for him to fill her.
He positioned his thick crown against her opening, pausing just long enough for her to moan, “Please,” before he buried himself inside her with a stroke so strong and swift it sent a shiver up her spine.
He wasted no time moving inside her, filling her with long strokes that made her cry out with pleasure even as her body struggled to stretch around the massive length and girth of him. She didn’t care. She didn’t want it easy. She wanted him to claim her, and she moved frantically against him, claiming him as much as he was claiming her.
“Touch yourself,” he commanded.
“I can’t,” she gasped. “I’ll come again.”
“That’s right,” he said, lifting her body so her back was against his chest while he was still inside her. “And I want you coming. Now do it.”
She reached a hand between her legs and moved her fingers over her clit as he continued to fuck her. Her body ratcheted up the tension, the orgasm sweeping toward her like an explosion until she shuddered around him again and again, her hand dropping away from her body.
He kept moving inside her.
“I can’t…” She didn’t know what she was trying to say. She was overcome with sensation, with emotion. It was overwhelming, almost frightening, but too good to stop moving with him.
“You can, and you will,” he said, pounding into her, showing her pussy no mercy despite the two orgasms he’d already given her. “I’m going to come inside you, Jenna. Work your clit until you come with me.”
She was lost to reality. In a place where all that existed were Farrell’s commands. His cock inside of her. The orgasms that just kept coming and coming.
This time he didn’t press the issue, just reached around her, pinched her nipple before sliding his hand down to her clit, working it as he drove into her faster and faster. He was climbing for his own release now, and she was climbing with him, nothing but his hands on her body, his cock inside her.
He pressed her body tight against him, driving harder from behind. “That sweet pussy better be ready to come, love.”
The words sent her over the edge, pushing her the last few feet until she was flying again, weightless as her body exploded around him, his semen filling her as her pussy gripped his cock like a vise, barely giving him room to keep dragging out of her, driving back in. He shuddered against her back with a low roar. The sound of it extended her release, kept her coming over and over until she collapsed against his chest.
He stroked her breasts, ran his hand down her torso to her belly, pressed her back against him, still inside her.
“Mine, Jenna. You’ll always be mine,” he said.
The thought should have been a comfort. Instead it caused a deep seated rise of terror in her body. He was right. She would always belong to him. But that didn’t mean she could stay.
37
“Are those our horses, Daddy?”
“They are, and I think they’re going to be very happy to see you.” Farrell smiled, feeling like an idiot as he carried Lily on his shoulders toward the stables at the back of the property. He’d carried Jenna, sleepy and groggy, from the most intense night of lovemaking they’d every shared, back to her bedroom in the wee hours of the morning, not wanting Lily to wake up and find herself alone. He hadn’t wanted to let Jenna go. He wanted to weld her by his side, make her promise to never leave.
But that’s not how love worked. He knew she was still undecided about his life, and he would make no apologies for it. He could give her a life of complete comfort and security, but none of that mattered if she didn’t believe he could keep her and Lily safe. His eyes strayed to one of the two men who patrolled the property 24/7. It was a precaution. So few people knew he owned the house, he rarely worried about security here. But now he had Jenna and Lily to consider. He thought about Alex Petrov and his heart turned hard. He should hire more guards, just to be safe. He would get Leo on it today.
“Hello there, Mr. Black.”
Farrell looked up to see an aging man in a tweed jacket and boots approaching. “Hello, Mr. Sinclair. How are the horses today?”
“Right well,” the old man said. His twinkling eyes strayed to Lily. “Although in need of a bit of company, I think.”
“Well, they’re in luck,” Farrell said, swooping Lily off his shoulders. “I have someone here who would very much like to go for a ride. This is my daughter, Lily.”
The words felt unfamiliar in the best kind of way. Mr. Sinclair showed no surprise, and Farrell wondered if Mrs. Pendleton had warned him.
“Hello, Lily. I’m Mr. Sinclair. I have a beautiful mare that will be very happy to see you. Would you like to meet her?”
“Yes, please,” Lily said, her eyes shining.
“Then follow me, Lady Lily.”
She giggled, and Farrell followed them into the stables with his heart in his throat. He’d never given much thought to parenthood. Had never imagined himself a father, let alone a good one. But when he looked at Lily he saw Jenna. He saw her curiosity and excitement, and even her endearingly proper view on the world. The instinct to protect them was overwhelming. Now he knew what people meant when they said they would die for someone. They meant that they would gladly sacrifice their life to keep the ones they love safe. That living without them would not be living anyway.
It was true for him. He would lay down his life for Jenna and their daughter. Would kill any man who tried to hurt them. Would wrap the world in a bow and hand it to them on a platter made of gold.
And yet none of that was really up to him. It was Jenna who would have to decide if she would stay. All he could do was love them. Love them and prove, time and again, that he could keep them safe.
38
Jenna watched Farrell make his way across the lawn with Lily perched on his shoulders. She’d woken up in his arms as he carried her back to her room, careful not to wake Lily. She hadn’t slept more than two hours, lost in a kind of parallel universe where there was only her and Farrell. His hands on and in her. His mouth covering every inch of her body, relearning every crevice and curve. It had been painful to be back in her own bed, to feel his lips on her forehead before he’d slipped back into the hall. Now every ounce of her being was screaming for her to stay forever. To put aside her reason and practicality, just this once, to be with this man who brought her body and soul to life.
Watching him with Lil
y didn’t make the decision easier.
He was wonderful with her. Patient and kind, and so obviously enamored with every word out of her mouth. She saw the life Lily would have with him. Could envision the love that would be showered on her every moment of her life, the kind of love every child deserved from a parent. She could see it all right up until the time she saw one of the guards patrolling the property. Then she would remember that Farrell was a criminal. That there were men who would probably like to kill him. Who would probably like to hurt him by hurting those closest to him.
Then she would be consumed by fear all over again. Fear that she would make the wrong decision for Lily. That she would listen to her heart as Kate had suggested, only to have something happen to Lily that would make her regret the decision for the rest of her life.
Of course, there was another side to the coin. Farrell had money and power. He might have powerful enemies, but he had resources, too. Would those resources be enough to protect Lily from the ugliness of the world? Would it be enough to shelter her from the reality of her father’s work when she was old enough to understand?
She didn’t know, but as she watched Farrell sweep Lily gently to the ground in front of the stables, she had a sudden burst of hope. The future was unknown. Anything could happen, and that went for everyone, not just her and Lily and Farrell.
Maybe she could find a way to believe, just this once, that everything would be okay.
She was turning away from the window when something caught her eyes at the edge of the property. She froze, watching as several men dressed head-to-toe in black stepped onto the lawn from the woods. She was wondering if they were Farrell’s men when one of them turned, raised a gun. She followed the direction of his aim and saw one of Farrell’s guards step around the corner of the house. He dropped to the ground a split second before the sound of the bullets reached her. Then the men were moving, fast and low to the ground, toward the house.
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