But that meant he’d spied the makeshift sack on the bed, so now what was she to do? The truth, that’s what. There was no point in lying; he was far too intelligent to fool. “I’m leaving, Lachlan.”
His anger gave way to that cocky grin he wore too often—the one that made him look even more handsome and grated on her nerves nevertheless. “Nay, ye’re not, lass.”
“You’ll keep me here against my will?” she railed, drawing on the anger that sparked to life inside her.
“Aye, I will keep ye here, though I imagine it won’t be against your will if ye’d but listen to me, ye stubborn fool.”
“Stubborn fool, is it? Why I…”
“Hush!” he commanded, placing a finger over her lips. “Ye’ve said more than enough, and it’s my turn to do the talking. Ye were very young when ye made that declaration in front of our families, and I didna believe it was anything more than my stubborn girl railing at being told what to do.”
“Of course I didn’t want to be told what to do!”
“Shhh!” he demanded again, and she complied, albeit reluctantly.
“I confess I didna know how I felt. There wasna any other young lady who occupied my mind, who drove me to the brink of madness in every direction. Between wanting ye, and arguing with ye…Hell, I wanted to take ye and I wanted to wring your neck at the same time. But it didna matter. Ye weren’t mine. Understand?”
She nodded, but she wasn’t sure she understood at all.
“Calum’s death was a terrible thing. My brother was a good man, and I’d give my life to have him back. But I confess that the day I learned he’d passed on, grief wasna the only thing occupying my mind. God help me, Scarlett, I thought of ye. But I also thought of all the years that had passed, and how ye must have come to feel something for Calum by now…I didna want to come second to a dead man in your heart.”
What he was saying was unbelievable, but the honesty in his eyes was unmistakeable. Still, if she told him how she felt, how she’d felt all this time, she was risking making an even bigger fool of herself than she’d done before. If she left, she kept her pride. But if she stayed…could she have the one thing she wanted more than anything? It was a greater risk than she’d ever taken and she was sorely tempted to grab for the sack on the bed and dart off to London, but…
“Lachlan, you’ve never come second. Never. I know I was young and we both know I didn’t want to be forced into marriage, but I never lied. I loved you. I’ve tried to forget it for so long, but God help me, I love you.”
“There now, that wasna so hard, was it?” he grinned.
She opened her mouth to give him a piece of her mind for such a response, but he laughed and pulled her against him.
“I love ye, Scarlett, with all my heart.”
And when his lips descended on hers this time, no part of her wanted to pull away in fear. All of the stiffness had gone from her body and she clung to him while his hands roamed over her. She could feel his frustration mounting quickly.
“Wives shouldna be allowed to wear clothes. The things just get in the way,” he joked as he unfastened the clasps on her gown. He didn’t stop at her waist this time, but continued until the gown fell away to pool around her feet.
She experienced a moment of hesitation when he reached for her shift next, but she called up her courage and didn’t stop him. And the look in his eyes when she was finally bare to him banished every ounce of fear and embarrassment that had threatened to interfere a moment before. His gaze swept over her hungrily just a moment before his hands followed suit, touching her everywhere.
And then his lips were on her body, kissing softly down her neck, leaving a heated trail over her collarbones. He cupped her in his hands as his tongue made a path across the upper swells of her breasts, and she couldn’t stifle the cry that escaped her lips as his mouth latched onto her nipple, drawing it into his mouth and suckling gently.
As much as part of her wanted to stand there motionless, indulging in the feel of his hands and mouth against her body, her hands would not be stilled. They covered every inch of his back, his sinewy arms and his hard chest, and she found the buttons that held his shirt closed and unfastened them as quickly as her trembling fingers would permit her.
She slid the shirt off him and returned quickly to run her fingers through the fine sprinkling of copper hair on his chest. Everywhere she touched, her hands made contact with chiseled muscle. And the hardness of him reminded her of what she rubbed against earlier, the hard length of him that had pressed intimately against her abdomen. But as she reached for him, he stilled her hand.
“Not yet, mo gràidh,” he whispered huskily as he reached for her instead, his fingers running through the soft, dark curls at the apex of her thighs. And the second he moved lower, her knees nearly buckled beneath her. But he held her there as he rubbed her, then moved lower to explore her delicate folds. As she felt him slip inside her, his low groan mingled with her own moan of pleasure.
He lifted her off the ground with one hand and cleared the bed with the other, laying her out before unfastening his trousers. The pants fell to the floor and a gasp caught in her throat. His member was rock hard and something about seeing him that way made her mouth water in anticipation. But before she could contemplate her response, he climbed on top of her and she felt that hard shaft against her entrance that had grown slippery with his touch.
He balanced himself above her on his muscled arms, and she briefly remembered her mother’s talk, her fear that Lachlan would crush her. But he kept himself supported as he thrust forward ever so slowly. As incredible as he felt, she closed her eyes, waiting for the unbearable pain she was told would come.
“It’s OK, mo gràidh,” he whispered. “It lasts for but a moment, I promise ye.”
And she believed him, despite the look of hesitation in his gaze. But he remained still, though his jaw clenched violently. It took her a moment to realize what was wrong—he wanted her, but he didn’t want to hurt her, even if it was for but a moment.
Though she didn’t know exactly what she was doing, she understood that it seemed what he was hesitant to do was thrust further. And so, she put her feet flat on the bed for leverage and thrust upward, forcing him through the last separation between them before he knew what she was doing.
“Scarlett!” he called out too late, and she could tell by his tone it was half in pleasure, half in alarm.
Though she stilled, letting the pain subside, she moved again a moment later, letting him know with her body that she was all right. In fact, she was more than all right, she realized as he met her thrust a moment later, filling her completely. He withdrew until only the tip of him remained inside her, and she nearly bucked upward to draw him back inside her. But he made it unnecessary a moment later as he sheathed himself inside her once more.
He repeated the rhythm and quickly she felt the fire he had set inside her blaze hot and bright. It compelled her hips to move to meet him, to wrap her legs around him to keep him close, to grip his shoulders tight to keep her body from coming apart.
His pace increased, and her fire burned out of control, the flames lapping through every inch of her body. She was so close, though to what she did not know.
“That’s it, mo gràidh. Ye are the most exquisite sight I’ve ever seen. Don’t fight it,” he whispered through his own groans and ragged breaths.
Once again she believed him, reaching for some unknown end. And when his pace became frantic, losing its rhythm entirely, she no longer had to wonder. The world spun wildly out of control as her body exploded and imploded at the same time, every inch of her being shattering into tiny, exquisite shards of ecstasy.
He followed her into his own rapturous release, groaning her name as he thrust hard once more, spilling his seed deep inside her.
“I want to go home, Scarlett,” he told her as he cradled her in his arms sometime later, her body more relaxed than it had ever been in her life.
“Are you aski
ng me or telling me?” she managed to query, though even her lips were too relaxed to do more than murmur.
He chuckled as he ran his hands along her side, gliding up and down from her ribs to her thigh. “It wouldna do me any good to force ye, now would it?”
“Then aye, my love. I would follow you anywhere.”
Chapter 8
Several months had passed since that unforgettable day of rapturous bliss—nine months, to be precise. And wasn’t it just like her arrogant, virile Scot to plant his seed in her so quickly.
Scarlett paced back and forth across her bedroom floor, her chest heaving, her heart pounding and her blood boiling. She was ready to hurl the heavy pewter pot on the table across the room at the handsome, brutish, ogre of a husband who stood by the door, leaning casually against its frame. The grin he wore was so irritating she imagined his handsome mouth the target of her pewter weapon. Her fingers itched to reach for it, thinking he would never see it coming. Then again, just to irritate her he was probably even now at the ready, his arms only appearing relaxed, but prepared to thwart whatever attempt she made at knocking the oaf unconscious.
“Do ye intend to pace there all night, mo gràidh?” he queried leisurely.
“It makes no difference where I pace, here or there, I will give birth to my daughter wherever I please!”
“Aye, if there was ever a woman who could turn my son into her daughter by sheer will, it would be ye. But I tell ye the babe is my son, and very soon ye’ll see I’m right.”
“Oh no! There will not be two of you in my home; two scoundrels to contest with daily. I will not have it!”
“Dinna fash. Don’t worry—with your influence, I’m sure ye will mold him into the perfect gentleman, nothing like the man who sets every kind of fire ablaze in ye.”
Another pain gripped her suddenly, wrapping around from her back to her abdomen, tightening her enormous belly and nearly doubling her over. She gripped the table’s edge for support, but he was across the room in a flash, all evidence of the cockiness in his expression gone.
He rubbed her back, applying pressure low down where the pain seemed to originate. And while it didn’t take it away, his fingers soothed and took the sharpest edge off the pain. She slouched against him as the labor pain began to ebb and he brushed back the damp wisps of hair from her face.
“All right, mo gràidh, ye win. Have any child ye like, just get it over with. It’s tearing me up to see ye in so much agony.”
Despite her weariness, she couldn’t help but smile at her victory.
A few short months ago her life had been serene, almost perfect. And now…
…It was even better.
~*~
MAFIA & BAD BOY COLLECTION
~*~
Forbidden Lust
~Bonus Story~
A Steamy Biker BDSM Mafia Romance
I don’t know how I ended up here and I don’t know how I will get out.
One minute I was having fun with my friends at the bar, enjoying my twenty-third birthday celebration and the next thing I know I’m waking up… with him….
Mikhail Maximoff is sexy, charming, strong, a natural born leader, and the most dangerous man I know besides my father. Growing up the daughter of a mob boss teaches you to be tough and to read anyone before they read you.
I failed to do that with Mikhail. And now I’m his prisoner. I’m not shackled, or chained as you may be thinking. My prison is all emotional. He has given me an ultimatum that I am to live with him in his mansion and be his, to do whatever he wants.
If I don’t comply then my best friend will be murdered. No one knows where I am. And there is no way out. I’m trapped in a hell that I never could have imagined.
But as the days blend into each other I find myself becoming more drawn to Mikhail. He is so strong, so mysterious, so commanding, and controlling. I’m usually the one in that role and this is the first time I’ve been forced to be the submissive.
And I like it.
I don’t know how this happened… but I find myself never wanting to leave this place…
But I feel I am losing myself in the process…
Will I get out before it’s too late?
Does the caged passion have a hold on me?
* * *
CHAPTER 1
“Happy birthday to you!”
The group finished singing the song and everyone quickly raised their shot glasses and downed them in one gulp. Then they proceeded to slam the shot glasses on the table and let out a whooping cheer.
Tori Rhodes let the whiskey burn down the back of her throat and then slammed her shot glass down with the rest of the group. It was her fourth shot and she could feel a slight buzz starting to creep through her head, but the evening was just beginning. She was a girl who could hold her liquor like a guy, in fact she had won many drinking challenges and drank guys twice her size under the table. Some guys were such wussies.
She was hoping the last shot would go to her head quickly so she could get the memory of her friends singing happy birthday to her, which they all insisted on just because they knew it would embarrass the hell out of her. They were wrong of course. Tori never got embarrassed; she just got annoyed. And nothing was more annoying than that.
It was her twenty-third birthday and she and her friends were at Hank’s Bar, a local favorite hangout where they always went when it was somebody’s birthday, or a Saturday, or a Monday… or really any time they felt like getting ripped. It was a great way to unleash after the boring family dinner she had just suffered through with her father, uncles, and cousins. Tori loved her family, but they could be a bit smothering and her father was completely over protective. It was kind of strange to see how one of the most feared Mafia Bosses in the city turned to jelly if he thought his little girl might be in danger.
It was almost like he didn’t even know her. Tori was a tough girl; she prided herself on it. She had started studying martial arts when she was eight and quickly rose up the ranks and achieved a black belt by the time she was fourteen. It had come in handy to all those people who were stupid enough to mess with Tony Rhodes’ daughter; if they didn’t get the memo about not being nice to the mafia crime boss’s daughter then she would deliver a few well-placed kicks to give them another reason not to mess with her.
By the time she was a junior in high school Tori had earned a reputation as a bit of a hellion who could beat the crap out of anyone who messed with her, including any guys who just wanted to push their luck.
And there had been a few guys here and there, after all Tori was one of the prettiest girls around. Even though she was only five foot three, she was curvy and athletic. She loved to get physical and in addition to her martial arts training, and her gun training, she ran five miles every morning and spent an hour in the weight room. But she did not resemble a body builder in any way. It was funny how so many women were afraid to touch the weights at the gym and then asked her how she stayed so toned, but still lean, and curvy.
She had been told that she looked like a shorter version of Jessica Biel. Tori always took that as a compliment and she had to admit she agreed with it to some extent, except Tori had been blessed with a head of gorgeous, fiery red hair. And a personality to match behind her sexy, hazel eyes.
“Well, girl you got another year in the tank! You are getting closer to the big two five!” Laila, Tori’s best friend said.
“No, I do not fear age; if anything I just get a bit sexier every year!” Tori replied.
Laila gave her a high five and motioned to the waitress to get them another round of shots.
Laila Lewis had been Tori’s best friend since they were in high school. She was tall, athletic, but often too sweet for her own good. She was usually complaining about some guy who would not call her back. Tori suspected they were such good friends because she brought Laila out of her shell a bit and Laila held her back as well. It was a good balancing act between the two of them.
“Well, so
mebody thinks highly of themselves!” Laila said.
“I think highly of me too!” Tori replied. She was really starting to feel that last shot now.
“I wonder how highly your father would be thinking of you if he knew how much fun you were having right now?”
“I can handle my father,” Tori replied. “We have an understanding; I do what I want and then I don’t tell him any of the things I do.”
Laila and their other friends erupted in laughter. Her father did not approve of alcohol at all—he never touched a drop. Tori found this ironic being that her father owned several bars and also dabbled in the drug trade quite extensively. The only reason he owned bars, laundries, and convenient stores was so that he could launder the money he made from his illegal activities. She had called her father a hypocrite a few times; it had not ended well when she did that though. She was the only person who could piss him off beyond a certain point and live to tell about it.
“So when you go into work tomorrow hung over, your dad is just going to pretend not to notice? Don’t you have to pick up rounds tomorrow?” Laila asked.
“Rounds” as they referred to them were when Tori went around to various community businesses and collected the “protection” fee that they owed her father. Of course they knew and she knew that they were paying to be protected from her father. It was a slimy deal, but it was the family business.
Tori had known about her father’s business since she was about twelve years old. He tried to keep it secret from her but after she found out she was fascinated to learn every asset of the business. Tori did not approve of a lot of the things her father did, especially the violence he often did or had done for business reasons, but she loved her father and this was the family business she had grown up in. She didn’t know if she wanted to do it forever, but she figured if they didn’t do it then another crime family would. That was the way the world worked; her father did not have a monopoly on organized crime. There were a lot of other crime families around.
Bad, Very Bad Shifters- The Complete Mega Bundle Page 85
