Page 57 of Lawless Sinners

Then his hand leaves my wrist and slides into my hair, and the kiss turns savage, stealing the breath clean out of me.

For one stupid second I forget to hate him and wonder if this is simply how he kisses; if this is what Eilish will get when he finally decides to touch her.

The thought should cool the fire racing through me. Instead, it pours petrol on it.

Because I can already picture her standing where I am.

And the jealousy that follows is so hateful and unjust that I almost choke on it.

My fingers twist in his shirt, dragging him closer when I should be pushing him away, and the grunt he makes into my mouth is so low and rough that it ruins every lie I’ve ever told myself about being done with him.

The dressing room door opens and Fionn breaks away.

He steps back and checks the time on his wristwatch while I fight to remember how my lungs work.

One of the stylists freezes in the doorway with a garment bag hooked over her arm.

Fionn looks at her with the same cool irritation he’d give someone interrupting a phone call.

“Yes?”

My mouth is swollen, my pulse is a crime scene, and the bastard doesn’t even look bothered.

The stylist blinks. “Miss Kinnane is ready. You should cover your eyes, Mr. Harrington.”

“No need.” Fionn wipes the side of his mouth. “I’m leaving now. Her bridesmaid can help her choose.”

“Wait until he leaves before sending her out,” I manage.

The stylist backs away, and Fionn finally glances at me.

There’s nothing on his face.

No apology, no hunger.

No crack of emotion. Just that cold, controlled expression with the faintest touch of cruelty on his wet lips. The bastard knows exactly how hard I have to work to pull myself together.

“You wanted to know how I’ll kiss my wife,” he says quietly. “Just like that…but with my cock inside her. Have a good day, little wild thing,”

Jealousy twists with an anger so vicious that I’m moving without thinking. I storm up behind him, slide in front and block his exit.

“While you two are engaged, you’ll never fucking touch me again, Fionn. I’m not desperate for your Harrington cock or counting down the seconds until I see ya again. So, keep your hands to yourself from now on.”

“Fine.” He leans forward, calm and relaxed, his lips coming closer. “She’ll taste better when she’s officially mine.”

My lungs lock.

Bastard.

Chapter 12

Fionn

Three Harrington shipments have stalled inside Tallon-controlled docks in forty-eight hours. That isn't a coincidence. Someone is interfering with our cargo, and I want a name.

Lorcan paces the concrete floor of our logistics yard with his phone in one hand and a cigarette burning in the other.

Two refrigerated lorries idle near the loading bay. The cargo inside them is legal on paper, profitable off paper, and useless if the Tallons keep making our crates sit beneath their cranes for too long.