Page 32 of Birthright (Sinners of New Orleans #4)

THIRTY-ONE

Sam

D onnie pulls into the driveway of my estate, the engine’s purr fading as he kills the ignition.

The day weighs heavily on my shoulders — the Serpents struck back, killing one of my enforcers at Saints and Sinners.

Their gunshots scared the shit out of the girls, and we had to kick out all of the patrons, bribing them with cash to keep the cops away.

I left Adrian and Naz to clean up the mess after I made sure the girls were okay. The pair is becoming quite the team after they worked together to help get me released. Naz learned a lot from Leo De Santis during his time in New York, and now he's become one of my top men since he's been back.

Before I left, John and I came up with a plan to retaliate and make sure this time our message was clear as day: retreat to your swamp and stay there.

There's a headache forming at my temples, and all I want is a hot shower and silence. The kind of silence that drowns out all the noise that's still ringing in my ears. Maybe a stiff drink too.

"Need anything else, boss?" Donnie asks, and I shake my head, exiting the car. The cool night air hits my face, offering momentary relief.

Roman is waiting in the front sitting room when I enter. He stands, coming to the entryway to meet me. "Boss." He nods in greeting.

"Everything good?"

"All quiet, boss. Olivia’s upstairs." His eyes flick toward the ceiling briefly.

"Have a good night." I nod to Roman, loosening my tie as I head toward the staircase. The silk feels like it's choking me after the day I've had.

The door clicks behind Roman as I trudge upstairs.

My thoughts drift to Olivia. I haven't seen her in days.

Not since she came apart on my tongue in her bedroom back at her apartment.

The sounds she made while I devoured her sweet cunt are playing on a loop in my mind and her taste still lingers on my tongue. I want to taste her again.

I need to shake these thoughts of her. I've been avoiding her because I know that I shouldn't act on these feelings.

I'm keeping her captive, for fuck’s sake.

Sleeping with her is a dangerous road to go down.

I should let her go, but that doesn't sit well with me either.

Even if I'm not convinced she'll run to the police the second I let her walk through that door. I just don't want to let her go.

Instead of making a decision, I've been avoiding her like a coward.

Halfway up the stairs, I hear something, a soft sound that stops me dead in my tracks.

" Sam... "

My name breathed out in a way I've never heard from her before. Not angry. Not afraid.

I stand frozen, one hand on the banister. The sound comes again on a hitched breath, my name carried with it like a prayer.

" Sam... "

Something sharp and unexpected twists in my chest. I should walk away. This isn't meant for me to hear. But my feet won't move, like they're cemented to the step beneath me.

Another sound follows, a muffled gasp that sends heat crawling up my neck. The door to her room isn't fully closed, a sliver of light spilling into the hallway, casting a golden line across the dark corridor.

" Sam ..."

My name again, this time breaking in the middle, followed by a sound that leaves no question about what's happening on the other side of that door. My imagination fills in the blanks, painting images I shouldn't be allowing myself to see.

I move without thinking, my feet carrying me to her door. I should walk away. I should turn around and pretend I never heard a thing. But my hand is already pushing the door open, revealing Olivia sprawled across her bed, one hand between her thighs, the other gripping the sheets.

Her eyes fly open, wide with shock, as she sees me standing in the doorway. She scrambles to pull the sheets over herself, her cheeks flushing crimson.

"Sam! I—" Her voice cracks, mortification written across her face.

I step inside, closing the door behind me. "Don't stop on my account."

"I wasn't—" she starts to say, but we both know it's a lie.

I cross the room in three strides, my body hard and aching. "I heard you, Olivia. I heard my name on your lips."

She swallows, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "This is embarrassing."

"Why?" I reach the edge of the bed, my fingers already working at my tie. "Because you want me as much as I want you?"

Eyes darkening, she watches me strip off my jacket, then my shirt. "I shouldn't want this."

"Neither should I." I climb onto the bed, the mattress dipping beneath my weight. "But here we are."

I hover over her, giving her one last chance to push me away. Instead, she reaches up, her fingers tracing the line of my jaw before pulling me down to her.

Our lips crash together, all the tension of the past weeks igniting between us. I tear the sheet away from her body, revealing her naked form beneath me. My hands explore every inch of her skin, memorizing the curves and valleys of her body.

"Sam," she gasps against my mouth, her fingers fumbling with my belt. "Please."

That single word breaks whatever restraint I had left. I kick off my pants and boxers, positioning myself between her thighs.

"Is this what you were thinking about?" I growl, nipping at her earlobe.

"Yes," she admits as her nails dig into my shoulders.

My hand slides between her thighs, finding her wet and ready. She moans when I slip a finger inside her, her walls clenching around me.

"So fucking wet thinking about me," I growl, and Olivia bucks against my hand, needy for what I can give her, as if she didn't just come chanting my name.

"Please," she whimpers, her hips rocking against my hand.

I add another finger, curling them to hit that spot inside her that makes her cry out. Her hands clutch at my shoulders as she grinds against me for more.

"I need you inside me," she pants. "Now."

I've never wanted anyone the way I want her. It's consuming, this need to claim her, to mark her as mine. And here she is, laid out before me and begging for me to fuck her.

Who am I to deny her?

I grip her hips, positioning myself at her entrance. She's so wet for me, and I'm throbbing with need. I want to take my time, savor every moment, but the desperation in her eyes matches my own.

"Tell me you want this," I demand, my voice rough with desire.

"I want you," she breathes out with an eager nod. "All of you."

I thrust into her with one powerful stroke, burying myself to the hilt. We both cry out at the sensation. She's tight, warm, perfect, like she was made for me. I give her a moment to adjust before I move, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in.

"Fuck," I growl, setting a punishing pace. "You feel so good."

Her legs wrap around my waist, pulling me deeper. I grab her wrists and pin them above her head with one hand while the other grips her hip hard enough to bruise. The room fills with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, our mingled moans and gasps.

"Harder," she pleads, her head thrown back in ecstasy. "Please, Sam."

I oblige, driving into her with everything I have. The headboard slams against the wall with each thrust, the bed frame creaking beneath us. I lean down to capture one nipple between my teeth, biting just hard enough to make her whimper.

"You like it rough, don't you?" I whisper against her skin. "You like being fucked like this."

"Yes," she moans, her body arching beneath mine. "Don't stop."

I flip her over suddenly, pulling her hips up while pushing her head down into the mattress. As I slide back into her from behind, the new angle makes her scream my name. My hand tangles in her hair, pulling her head back as I pound into her relentlessly.

"You're mine," I growl in her ear, not even recognizing my own voice anymore. "Say it."

"I'm yours," she gasps, her words punctuated by moans. "I'm yours, Sam."

"My dirty girl, aren't you?"

I can feel her pussy pulse around my cock when I ask the question. She's getting close, squeezing me as her orgasm gets closer.

I feel myself getting close, too, my release building with every thrust. The sight of Olivia beneath me, her back arched, peachy ass in my grip, her face pressed into the mattress as she takes everything I give her — it's almost too much.

"Touch yourself," I command. "Make yourself come on my cock."

She reaches between her legs, her fingers finding her clit. I can feel the moment she starts circling it, her inner walls clenching around me even tighter.

"That's it," I groan, my hips snapping against hers. "Good girl."

That sends her over the edge. She comes with a cry that might be my name, her body shuddering beneath mine. The rhythmic pulsing of her pussy triggers my own release. I drive into her one last time, burying myself deep as I come harder than I ever have before.

For a moment, I can't move, can't think, can barely breathe. All I know is Olivia and the blinding pleasure still coursing through my veins.

I collapse beside her, pulling her against my chest. Her breathing is ragged, matching my own. Pressing my lips to her temple, I taste the salt of her sweat.

"You okay?" I murmur against her skin.

She nods, her eyes still closed, her body boneless against mine. "Better than okay."

I told myself after the last time that I wouldn't let this happen again. But now that I've felt her pussy clench around my cock, I'm not sure I can stop myself.

This wasn't supposed to happen. I wasn't supposed to care about her. She was just a loose end, a witness to tie up. But now...

Now I'm holding her like she's precious, like she matters. And the terrifying truth is that she does matter. More than she should. More than is safe for either of us.

I stroke her hair, watching as her breathing slows, her features relaxing. She looks peaceful now, the anguish from earlier gone. Replaced by something else, something I'm afraid to name.

I've spent my life believing I couldn't protect the people I love. That loving someone means watching them get hurt. My mother's face flashes in my mind, her eyes wide with fear before the light went out of them forever.

I look down at Olivia, resting peacefully in my arms, and a cold fear grips my heart.

What have I done?