Page 122 of Corrupted Pleasure

“Aaah… Liam… I’m coming… ”

The orgasm slammed into me so hard, I rolled my head back and my lips left his. It was so intense that white dots swam in my vision. I swore I fluttered up into space where nothing existed except for this feeling and Liam.

“Fuck, fuck.” Liam grunted and his hands on me tightened. He powered into me, fucking me through my orgasm and my pussy clenching around his shaft. “Who’s fucking you?”

“You,” I moaned. “You, my husband!”

The orgasm swallowed me whole, my heart fluttered away from me and I was certain it went to him. This orgasm was unlike any other we’d shared and I rode the wave, hungry for such an out of body experience.

My fingers dug into Liam’s shoulders, holding on to him. His shoulders tightened beneath my fingers and he came, his cum filling my insides.

I closed my eyes, relishing in all the sensations swirling inside me. This man was in the center of them all. His head rested in the crook of my neck, his breathing matched my own.

My whole body laid slack against him and I inhaled his scent deeply. Two heartbeats drummed as one. It took a while for my mind to settle and for our earlier conversation to come back to the forefront of my mind.

Seconds stretched into minutes and a strange kind of peace washed over me with these latest revelations. All this felt so right.

Slightly shifting from me, my gaze sought out his.

“Why did your father put that clause in his will?” I asked him curiously. “From everything I heard from Juliette, she always says you don’t want more kids and never wanted to marry.”

I didn’t expect him to answer honestly. I wasn’t even sure what prompted me to ask him. He held my gaze, turmoil replacing earlier lust.

“In our family, blood relations are everything,” he started and I stilled in his arms. “I’m not saying it is right, but Killian and Juliette won’t be recognized as my descendants. Not in the Brennan family. Not in my slightly illegal businesses.” I scoffed softly at his terminology, but I didn’t interrupt. “Unfortunately, my father has earned us a few enemies that would take the first opportunity and strike once we weaken.”

I frowned, not following his meaning. “Aisling, Wynter’s mother, is my half-sister. My father seduced the daughter of a powerful Pakhan.” When I gave him a confused look, he explained. “The head of the Russian mafia. Father smuggled her out of Russia and kept her as his mistress.”

I gasped. “While your mother was alive?”

His hands roamed my back, the movements soothing.

“My mother had been in a coma for several years by that time,” he explained. “A traumatic head injury. In our world, marriage is for life and getting remarried wasn’t an option while she was alive.”

I nipped his chin gently.

“That would have been good to know before I said my vows,” I teased him, trying to lighten the mood.

“My Davina,” he purred. “Once I got you, I wasn’t going to let you go.”

It was definitely wrong that his words didn’t make me want to run away screaming. Coming from parents that couldn’t commit to each other nor me, this commitment made me beam. I knew firsthand, he’d never abandon his children like my parents abandoned me. And deep down, I knew he’d never abandon me.

“Back to your father and his marriage,” I reminded him, before I could get sidetracked.

“My parents’ marriage wasn’t a happy one, it was arranged. Nobody blamed my father for finding himself a woman, least of all me. I just wished it wasn’t that specific woman because it started a war. Although, Winter Volkov was amazing. Gentle and kind. Kind of hard to believe her father was the ruthless Pakhan.”

“Winter?” I gasped in shock.

“Yes, Wynter was named after her grandmother, just spelled differently,” he explained. “Anyhow, my mother died a month before Aisling was born. My father married his mistress, but she ended up dying a month later giving birth to Aisling. God gives and God takes. My father loved Aisling’s mother more than anything on this earth. He has never been quite the same since her death.”

So much tragedy. My arms tightened around him, hoping to offer comfort.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured, my fingers brushing through his thick hair. “For the loss of your mother and your father’s loss.” I thought back to my grandfather and how much he talked about my grandma. He loved her very much and there wasn’t anyone else for him after she passed away.

“Thank you.” His nose brushed against mine, the move so tender and affectionate. He seemed to do that frequently, like his own personal telltale affection. “Anyhow, the Pakhan wanted Aisling back, to replace the loss of his daughter. He blamed my father for her death. We wouldn’t hear of it and the feud escalated. I slowly pushed all the Bratva out of New York; however when Aisling became old enough, she caught the eye of another rival mafia family here in the city. So more bloodshed followed.”

“Jesus,” I muttered. “Talk about drama.”

He nodded his agreement and for a moment both of us were lost in our own thoughts.