Page 75 of Arranged Devotion
“Liam.”
He thrusts himself inside and I gasp, bliss exploding behind my eyes as he fucks me.
The table shakes and wobbles. Liam’s not kind and he doesn’t seem to care if he shatters the whole building. He slams into me with a reckless need, plunging in deep and snarling like a beast, kissing my neck, praising my body as his mouth finds my tits and his big palm wraps around my throat. I become his, all his, my body glowing and burning with the ruin he brings to me, the way he fills me and fucks me, the way he makes me filthy and builds me whole again. As he grips my hair, his cock plunging in deep and soaking and incredible, I know this is what’ll ruin me, this right here, the way this man makes me feel, both alive and terrified of how much more I want from him, the way I can’t get it out of my head either. He’s all I think about, all I want, as he drives himself inside me.
“When you finish… I’m going to fill you… and then I’m going to taste it. So please, love, finish fast, because I’m not strong right now.”
“Liam, keep going.”
“Faster, love. God, I’m going to fucking come inside of you. I’m going to fill you to the brim.”
“Oh my god, don’t stop.” I grab his hips as he hammers me and I can’t take it anymore. He moans and as I feel his warmth fill me, my triggers pull and I explode. I shatter, breaking, coming, gasping, sweating, grinding, greedy for every sensation, every spine-destroying moment, every inch of him.
As promised, with a gasp, he pulls out, drops down, and licks me.
Licks my cum-filled pussy with a greedy snarl.
“Perfect,” he says, eyes and lips shining.
He kisses me, making me taste the swirling combination of our sex.
And god, I’m sick, but I love it.
We stay on the table for a minute, breathing and coming down, until he leads me into the bathroom with him. Wordlessly he turns on the shower and we get in together. Streams of blood turn the water pink at first. I lather and soap him, washing anywhere blood might be hiding, until the water runs clear.
He starts to talk. He tells me about the meeting, the attack, saving my brother, coming to find me. I can’t imagine what he went through and how he came out of it on the other side, but I’m immensely grateful for what he did.
“You saved him,” I whisper, water running down our faces as he kisses me. “You didn’t have to, but you did anyway.”
“I knew you’d want me to.”
“Thank you.” I hug him hard, pressing my eyes shut. “I don’t know… what I would have done…”
“You don’t have to find out.”
He holds me in the warm water, the strength of him, his solid body, his mass of muscle, comforting me even though it feels like the steady, perfect, understandable world I thought I knew crumbles all around me.
CHAPTER 20
LIAM
“We should have more guns.” I pause at the edge of the path entrance. It’s a sunny, beautiful Sunday morning, and Central Park is crowded with buskers, joggers, tourists, and walkers.
“That’s not what we’re doing here.” Finn watches a young couple walk past grimly. He’s not happy about this either, but it was Declan’s call. “It’s a meeting. Nothing more.”
“They tried to kill us.”
“I’m aware.”
“Now we’re fucking talking to them?”
Finn starts forward without answering.
The Whelan family isn’t all that complicated. The brothers individually have their issues—Cormac’s a psychopathic killer, Seamus is a reckless fighter, Declan’s got the weight of the world on his back, and Finn’s still healing from all the ways he’s been broken over the years—but as a collective, their roles are clear.
Declan is the boss. His word is law. They might bicker and disagree, but in the end, they follow orders.
Which is why me and Finn aren’t strapped to the fucking teeth.
