Page 19 of A Trap So Flawless (Titans and Tyrants #4)

Somehow Darragh manages to keep me held up against his body with one arm while his other hand fishes keys from his pocket.

He leans me against the door as he unlocks it, trapping me between the wood and him.

I think the door is unlocked now, but he doesn’t open it yet.

He takes a moment to keep me pinned there, adjusting our positioning so that his crotch is aligned with mine.

Oh, God. He’s so hard. He groans into my mouth and grinds against me.

Heat, and a fresh wave of cramping, grip my pelvis.

I’m not sure if it’s only from the medication, or…

Or if I want him so badly it’s making me hurt.

The door swings open, and I gasp, swinging with it. But Darragh’s still got me. He elbows the door shut behind us both. Just before it closes, I catch a glimpse of his white shirt on the pavement. Abandoned in the rain.

There are boxes in the doorway. Dimly, I remember Darragh saying something about new clothes. He sets me down between the cardboard cubes and for some bizarre reason starts dumping out their contents. Sweaters and dresses and makeup and shoes fall like the rain outside.

My stomach drops. He has enemies here as surely as he does in Toronto. There could be anything inside one of those boxes.

“Are you…” I’m shivering. “Are you looking for a bomb?”

At that same moment, he seizes on something from the pile and yanks it out.

It’s not an explosive device.

It’s a box of condoms.

“You think I would let any of this shit into the house if it hadn’t been thoroughly checked first?” he asks, like he’s shocked I’d even suggest it. “I sent Rowan over with the key earlier to check everything. How the hell do you think this stuff was already inside before we got home?”

“Well, I don’t know,” I reply. I frown and cross my arms over my chest, embarrassed. I didn’t realize Rowan had left Callum’s house for part of the day.

Darragh’s gaze slits, then he smirks.

“Oh, don’t go getting all pouty on me now, pet.

Not when you were the one throwing your arms around me and kissing me like that.

And look what I’ve bought specially for you.

” He gives the box a meaningful shake, making the packaged condoms rattle around inside.

“There are birth control pills, too. But I know those will take a few days to kick in. Even though you’ll start taking them tonight. ”

“You got me birth control? Without me going to the doctor for a prescription?” I ask, focusing on the logistics of the act instead of the imperious “You’ll start taking them tonight” bit.

He crosses the floor to me, stepping over mini mountains of satin and wool.

“I told you once,” he murmurs, “that there was nothing in this world that I could not provide.” Then, he presses the box of condoms into my hands, orders me to, “Hold this,” then drops to his knees.

He hooks his fingers beneath the waistband of my leggings, groaning low in his throat when he pulls them down and sees that I am bare beneath them.

Darragh’s mouth is scorching velvet on my clit.

I suck in a breath so hard that I’m certain my belly button just about touches my spine.

The corners of the box poke into the flesh of my chest, the cardboard threatening to give out as I clutch it.

It’s like I’m trying to clutch onto some sort of control, a tether to myself.

But that tether is fraying. Already, my legs are trembling, my pussy clenching uncontrollably as Darragh drags his lips and teeth and tongue across my most sensitive point of throbbing desire.

“You don’t know,” Darragh rasps between greedy, merciless licks and sucks, “how much I’ve fucking missed the taste of you.

” He grips my pelvis, his thumbs digging into my groin and spreading me wide.

“I’ve been in fucking pain, Valentina,” he says between bruising kisses. “I think I’ve been fucking pining.”

That’s it. That does it. That throws me over the edge.

The thought of Darragh missing me. The thought of him pining.

My abdomen cramps. My pussy contracts. I drop the box, my hands flying blindly to grasp at Darragh’s shoulders and head as I double over with the force of the climax. I’m bent over him, practically hugging him, rubbing myself helplessly against his mouth as I come and shake and moan.

Darragh doesn’t carry me away to some soft bed then. He slides a condom over the jutting, swollen flesh of his cock, and fucks me right there on the floor. Right there, between all the beautiful things that he’s bought me and the door that he’s locked me behind.

He fucks me like he loves me. Like he hates me. Like he’s running out of time.

And maybe he is running out of time.

Maybe we both are.

We can’t stay together like this in Dublin forever. Soon, he’ll have to face the reality of his disinheritance and decide if he will let me go. Soon, we’ll find out what’s happened to my papà.

Soon, we’ll have to go back to Toronto. Back to our worlds that have shifted – shattered – and might never overlap in quite the same way again.

But for now, there is time. Time to feel the cool wood beneath me, Darragh’s heat above me and inside me. Time to hear the way he groans my name, like it’s a prayer, a broken fucking plea, when he comes.