by Olivia Ryann
He moves his lips from my nipple back up to my mouth. I growl with sudden impatience, pushing him to the side a little so I can get his shirt off. He pulls his shirt over his head with a grin, and I slide my hands down his legs to the boxer briefs he wears.
“Jesus,” he says, his eyes fastened on my breasts. He reaches out with one hand and cups the heaviness of my breast. “Your tits have literally never looked better. They’re so fucking perfect.”
“You’re wearing too many layers,” I say, working on the last two buttons of his shirt.
He pauses for a second, then backs up, taking his boxers off. I’ve never been so glad to see my own boyfriend’s cock as I am in the moment when he shoves his boxer briefs off.
Arsen stands there for a second, stroking his rock-hard cock, looking at me. And I stare right back at him; he’s all lean flesh and muscle, looking hard and bearded. I’m not sure how I got so lucky, having such a man’s man want me, but I don’t question it.
“How are we going to do this?” he asks speculatively, looking at me. “I don’t want to hurt the baby, with your due date so close.”
“You won’t,” I promise. I bite my lip suggestively and turn over, putting my ass in the air. It takes everything I’ve got to balance myself with my pregnant stomach, but he doesn’t have to know that.
He growls and falls over me, stopping himself with an arm. He kisses the back of my neck and I shiver. Arsen’s hands cup my hips, and he kisses me on the lower back.
“Mmmm,” I sigh. He peels off my underwear, and then I’m bare before him.
Excitement skitters down my spine as his big hands shape my ass, and he reaches between my legs. I suck in a breath as he finds my clit with two fingers. It feels so incredibly good, I grind against his hand.
“You like that?” he says. I look back at him, blushing at the dirty tone of his voice.
“Yes,” I say. “You know what would be better, though?”
He just grins and slips his two fingers into my pussy. “Fuckkkkk. You’re so wet, princess.”
“So, fuck me already,” I say, pushing my ass back against his hand.
“If you say so.”
Arsen withdraws, fisting his cock and positioning it near my entrance. He notches his head against my pussy, going very, very slowly. He only gets the head in before he starts to curse.
“Fuck,” he says. “Goddamn, it’s been too long since I had you.”
“Oh, God,” I moan, clutching the sheets. “I need you so badly. Please.”
He slides home, filling me up all the way. I’ve never been quite so full, but I feel that in the best way possible. I feel him hesitate, so I encourage him.
“Yes,” I say as he withdraws and begins to plunge back in. “Right there, but harder.”
He starts up a steady rhythm of thrusting and reaches around to my front. Arsen begins strumming my clit, which sends waves of sensation through my body. I start moaning, using one hand to tweak my own nipple.
“Fuck, princess,” Arsen groans. “I’m not going to last long.”
“Then do it harder,” I whisper. “Fuck me like you mean it.”
I try to zone out. It’s not hard, between Arsen’s thrusts and his clever fingers on my clit. I close my eyes and concentrate on the orgasm building inside me. With each thrust, I get closer until suddenly I shatter, screaming Arsen’s name.
He comes just after me, his breathing ragged. I sag, losing the will to hold up my body any longer. We both melt into the mattress, boneless.
I lie there, trying to breathe. It’s uncomfortable, being trapped between my own clumsy body and Arsen’s more muscular one.
What am I thinking? Everything is uncomfortable these days. The idea of comfort is a fond memory.
Arsen gets up, kissing me on the lips. “Don’t move.”
Groaning a little, I flip myself over, scoping out Arsen’s ass as he moves across the apartment. Damn, I know we just fucked, but that ass is making me horny all over again.
Not to mention when he comes back, I’ll be able to ogle his cock. That thought makes me blush.
When he disappears from view, I lie back, looking up at the curtained windows. It’s getting light out, which in itself is nice. One more day closer to having this baby in my arms… and off of my bladder.
Little… Willow? Or maybe Isabella? Amelia? Tabatha? Roxie? Lauren?
I run through the liturgy of names, still undecided. Theresa, for my mother? Trying to imagine a baby with that name though, I’m unconvinced.
Arsen returns, walking over to the bed with a big wooden tray. It’s holding a small bouquet of flowers, a glass of orange juice, and a couple of slices of toast. He sets it down in front of me.
“For me?” I ask, raising my eyebrows.
His eyes sparkle as he winks at me. “It is Mother’s Day, after all. I figure that applies to you.”
Tears spring to my eyes. “Oh, Arsen. You didn’t have to do that!”
“There’s a little more,” he says as I take a sip of the orange juice. Before I can say anything, he places a blue velvet ring box on the tray.
I sputter, putting the orange juice glass down on the tray. I wipe my mouth, looking up at him. “Arsen…”
“Open it,” he says, cutting me off.
Tears begin to overwhelm me. I pick the ring box up. Arsen kneels as I open the box. I’m blubbering like a fool by the time that I take in the large, pristine diamond in its simple platinum setting.
“Fiore, once Katherine Carolla—” he starts.
I hiccup and sob, totally unable to control my emotions.
Luckily, he’s placid enough. “I love you. I’m lucky enough to be in love with you. You’re carrying my child. Will you do me the distinct honor of being my bride?”
Overwhelmed by emotion, I can only nod. When I can speak, I sob out, “Y-yes. I love you so m-much… it’s unbelievable, Arsen.”
He pulls me into his arms and kisses me. I’m safe and warm and loved.
And that’s all I ever wanted.
Everything else is just another cherry on top of my sundae.
23
Dryas
St-Malo, France — A Few Months Later
Staring out the the window onto the warm, lamplit street, I sip the rough whiskey that’s in my tumbler. I can see the cobblestones, can make out the letters on the sign on the building opposite me, so it is not too late. It is maybe eight-thirty, no later.
I take another swig. It is rotgut stuff, making me wince as it burns its way down my throat. But it keeps the dreams of Arsen at bay late at night, and makes the days pass more quickly.
Unbidden, the image of my brother swims up to me. Arsen, just as he realizes that I have stabbed him. When he looks into my eyes for the last time.
When he knows that he will never see his slave girl again, or his child be born.
Shaking my head to clear the vision, I slam the rest of the whiskey down.
Since I killed my brother last year, I have tried to refocus my energies. He was right about one thing; revenge has been in my heart ever since Aurelia died, bleeding to death alone in the street.
No longer will revenge be in my heart… no after I find the men responsible and slit their throats. Just for fun, I may drink their blood, too.
Bloodshed is my closest friend, these days.
I turn to the door of the little one-room apartment when I hear it begin to open. A man pokes his head in.
Thin and weasely, he darts a furtive look around around before his gaze settle on me. “Monsieur.”
“Please tell me you’ve finally got him,” I say, setting my cup aside on the mantle place. “Otherwise, you’re not going to be paid for this little adventure all around the coast of France.”
The man blanches. His English is very heavily accented, not unlike mine. “Oui, monsieur. We have got him in the very next room.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Are you sure? I don’t want this one to end up not being the right man, aft
er all. Remember, I only want to talk to the man who was dispatched to kill the girl.”
The man bows. “Oui, yes. This is the men that says he worked for La Fraternité. The Brotherhood, I mean to say.”
“And Father Derrik?” I ask, arching a brow.
“The man claims he worked directly for him. He says they worked… how do you say? Hand and hand? Into the hand?”
“Shut up,” I tell him. “Let me get my tools, then I’ll be right there.”
“Monsieur,” he says, disappearing.
I go over to my suitcase, opening it and grabbing the small black toolbox inside. I crack the lid, checking that it’s all still there.
A blowtorch. A brand. Several knives of varying lengths. A length of piano wire. And overlooking all of it, a portrait of Aurelia was taped inside the lid, where she was blonde and beautiful and remote.
I smile at the picture and then close the lid, heading out of the room to get some answers about Birgit’s death and The Brotherhood’s involvement.
And if it so happened that there would be a little bloodshed? I wouldn’t mind that at all.
If you liked this book, we suggest trying Addiction by Vivian Wood! It’s FREE right now with Kindle Unlimited. Read on for an excerpt.
It started innocently enough. Beautiful Harper gave Sean those eyes… those eyes that meant, yes, take me. But Harper didn’t know Sean’s secrets… She didn’t know that he liked it rough.
More than rough. He liked to dominate. To punish. To degrade. It was the only way that the black hole in his soul wouldn’t swallow him up.
He would push her a little too far, and she would run. They all ran, eventually.
But that’s not what happened... when he put his hands around her throat and squeezed, Harper moaned. When he told her to stay away, she didn’t listen, misbehaving until she got spanked. When he took out the handcuffs, there was excitement in her eyes, mixed with a little fear.
The doe-eyed redhead liked it. More than that, she wanted it. She said so, time and again.
That’s the thing about sexy strangers, though… you never know what they’re hiding. And Harper is carrying a burden so heavy that even Sean’s secrets pale in comparison.
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An excerpt:
On impulse, Harper leaned over and kissed him. He didn’t seem surprised, but instead of responding there was a shift. Sean grabbed her thigh and pulled her on top of him with ease. She straddled him, yet he was in control. With his hands on her hips, she felt safe even so many feet above the ground.
Sean leaned back slightly. Their combined weight tipped the cage dangerously to one side. But she didn’t want to stop. His tongue flicked against hers and his fingers bore into her thighs.
“Hey!” the carnie called. “You two at the top! Get on opposite sides.” Harper shivered and tried to pull away, but Sean wouldn’t let her. It was like being in trouble with a teacher. “Hey!” the carnie yelled again.
She knew everyone must be staring at them, and that made her heart beat even faster. Sean clenched her tighter. There’s something dark in him, she thought. Soemthing more than the obvious.
And it’s in me, too, she realized. Eating at me, bit by bit.
Sean bit her lip, sharp. It was almost enough to draw blood. Almost.
He released her mouth and trailed his tongue along her jaw to her neck. Instinctively, she tossed her head back to give him better access. He sucked hard. With the knowledge that he marked her, she started to pant.
“Hey, I said knock it the fuck off!” the carnie yelled. Suddenly the wheel began to turn again.
Sean’s hand slid up from her thigh across her torso to her breast. He pinched her nipple, hard, through the tank top and thin bra. Harper cried out. He kissed her again, softly, on the mouth. The pain was gone, and she was suddenly desperate for more.
The carnie’s face was red as he tore open their gate, but he didn’t say anything.
“Be a good girl now, sweetheart,” Sean whispered into her ear. When she stood up to exit, she realized her jeans were soaked with wetness.
Harper looked around, but nobody seemed to realize they were the ones who put on a show in the night sky.
“I better get going,” Sean said. “I’m opening the shop tomorrow.”
“Oh.” Harper nodded. That was it? What happened to the dominant guy on the wheel? You’re not even going to try to take me home?
“But I want to see you again. Soon,” he said.
“Okay,” she said. She sounded so much cooler, calmer than she felt. As if she didn’t really care one way or another whether he called her or not.
Inside, Harper knew she’d do anything, whatever it took, to peer into his darkness again. It had just been a glimpse, but it was intoxicating.
Grab it now! FREE with Kindle Unlimited!
A Note From Olivia
Thank you so much for reading Arsen and Fiore’s story! They rocked me to the core and kept me enthralled for too long. Now I’m onto Dryas’s story, working hard.
What should you do now? I suggest reading more of my books!
You can get The High Priestess right now to read a little more about Damen and Bianka… meanwhile, I am hard at work on Provoke, the first book of Dryas’s story.
Provoke is expected to hit Amazon in late December. ;)
— <3
About the Author
Olivia Ryann is the dark romance pen name of Wall Street Journal, USA Today, and Amazon Top 20 Bestseller Vivian Wood. She loves poetic phrases and bits of melodic memories. She adores dominant, hard men and soft, fragile women with backbones made of steel. She wants to put them together as often as possible, in unconventional ways.
Follow Olivia Ryann on Amazon to stay updated! https://www.amazon.com/Olivia-Ryann/e/B07GTTR9MB/
If you haven’t ever read any of Vivian’s work, we suggest beginning with Addiction and Obsession.
Cheers!
Olivia’s Works
Capture
Control
Covet
Cherish
The High Priestess
Vivian likes to write about troubled, deeply flawed alpha males and the fiery, kick-ass women who bring them to their knees.
Vivian's lasting motto in romance is a quote from a favorite song: "Soulmates never die."
Be sure to follow Vivian through her Vivian's Vixens mailing list (http://eepurl.com/buorZn) or Facebook page (https://www.facebook.com/VivianKWood/) to keep up with all the awesome giveaways, author videos, ARC opportunities, and more!
Vivian’s Works
Bad Beginnings
Bad Behavior
Bad Reputation
Dr. Hottie
Smolder
Hot As Hell
Wild Hearts
Addiction
Obsession
His Virgin
His Best Friend’s Little Sister
Claiming Her Innocence
His To Keep
Promise Me
Knocking Boots
SEAL’s Bride
SEAL’s Kiss
SEAL’s Touch
For more information….
vivian-wood.com
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