Page 53

53

DON’T WORRY ANGEL

RORY

S leep won’t come. My mind keeps circling… How did Matteo react when he realized I was gone? How did my father? Would they think to look for me here?Would the Irish cut their losses and send me straight back?Was Aidan already working on brokering the best trade deal for the Bratva Princess?

No.

I push back against the intrusive thoughts.

Helping me gains Aidan and the Irish nothing… and he has every reason to give me back. But somehow… I know he won’t. I trusted him in blind faith when I jumped on the back of his bike. And again hours ago when he handed me a dry Breakers hoodie and some boxers before he disappeared. “I’ll be back.”

He’s not here. In the loft.

And neither are his brothers.

I know, because somewhere around three a.m. I gave up on sleeping. I wandered through the quiet loft until I found Reagan curled up on the giant sectional in the living room. The Irish princess sits up, pausing her movie when she spots me hovering in the hallway.

We stare at each other for a few seconds before she cocks her head. Lifting the edge of her blanket, a silent invitation. I crawl into it, thankful for the company. What starts as quietly watching a movie quickly devolves into me unloading onto her everything that’s happened with Matteo. Needing to get it out.

“I hope Aidan doesn’t send me back.” I wrap the blanket tighter around myself. “If my father doesn’t kill me… Matteo will. He’d have the right, after what I did… Or maybe Aidan will save them the trouble and finally kill me himself.”

Reagan shakes her head, adamant. “Not even on the table. Even when he hated you— a Kostalova— he couldn’t do it. Now—” she trails off, a little smile playing on her lips. “I think if anybody so much as looks at you the wrong way, he might drop them off the French King Bridge.”

I sigh. It’s what I want to believe, but Aidan took off so quickly after we got here… I haven’t talked to him about any of it. Or confessed that I don’t have a plan in place yet. It’s not like we’re exactly—friends. I don’t even know what to call what we are.

And it might not even be Aidan I need to worry about. Koen’s the boss. And the eldest O’Rourke has little love for me. If he wants me gone—I doubt Aidan would stand in the way.

Reagan yawns, settling deeper into the plush cushions, and both of us quietly return our attention back to the movie.

Minutes later—she’s asleep.

But I’m still too keyed up… The boys have not returned. After Reagan caught me keeping a vigilant watch on the elevator doors, she assured me we were safe here. “If all four of them had to step out, there’s no doubt a small military presence, at the very least, is on the other side of that door,” she laughs.

Just before dawn, I retreat into Aidan’s room, hoping maybe laying in bed might help sleep come. I’ve just settled under the covers when I hear them… The deep tenor of male voices fills the loft.

Suddenly nervous, my heart threatens to pound right out of my chest. I’d spent the entire night wishing Aidan would come back so we could talk, but now...

I twist my fingers in the comforter while keeping my gaze fixed on the bedroom doorway. But nothing could prepare me for the sight of him when he rounds the corner…

Blood.

Blood everywhere... splattered across his clothes, his face... a mosaic of crimson.

Is it his? I rise, trembling, from the bed. Concerned. Taking cautious steps closer. There’s too much blood for it all to be his. He wouldn’t be standing… Aidan remains half in the hall, leaning on his shoulder against the door frame, watching me. A wild and dangerous look in his eye.

I stop. Barefoot on the hardwoods. Not daring to go any closer. Scanning his blood stained fingertips.

“It’s not mine.” The sound of his voice pulls my gaze up. His eyes finish the rest of his sentence. Relief sweeps through me for not one, but two reasons.

“Matteo?”

Aidan dips his chin in a slow nod of confirmation, watching my face carefully, searching my eyes for a reaction.A beat passes between us.

“Good.”

His eyes flash with surprise, brows lift slightly.

“He deserved it.” I hold his eyes.

Something flickers in them and whatever it is seems to propel him forward. Before I know it, I’m in his arms. Aidan’s kiss is hungry—starving. But he pulls away just as quickly. “I’m sorry,” he says, shaking his head and turning away.

I tighten my grip, stopping him. Aidan looks down at me with confusion.

I rise on my tiptoes, gently touching my lips to his, tugging him closer to me. Not caring when some of that dark blood smears across my arms—my face.

There’s no hesitation. He comes as I call. His lips crash against mine, punishing in their desire, as if he’s devouring me whole.

Picking me up, Aidan carries me through the bedroom, past the rumpled bed and into the bathroom. He walks us straight into the shower without breaking the kiss.

When my back hits the smooth tile wall, he reaches down and twists the knob.

Water rains down on both of us and I shiver, the freezing water heating fast. Aidan sets me down under the stream and rips off his shirt. The water falling from him is tinged red, washing away Matteo’s blood as it streams down the hardened muscle. Aidan steps into me, green eyes locked on mine, fingers finding the hem of my borrowed sweatshirt.

Slowly, he peels the soaked fabric up and over my head. A feral gleam enters his eye when he slides the boxers down over my hips and I kick them away.

My back is to the shower wall again before I can form another thought. His fingers trail south over my bare skin, finding a nipple and gently pinching it until it hardens, and I release a soft moan. He deepens the kiss, tongue sweeping into my mouth as he explores my body. The feel of his hands on my skin is like a hit of the sweetest drug.

I can’t get enough of him. With my mouth still on his, I reach down and unhook his jeans.

He stills, breaking our kiss for the first time. His eyes scan mine, a question in them.

I answer it by pushing down on his jeans until they’re off. Until the only barrier between us is the icy wall I have built around my heart. But the heat Aidan draws out with every touch is wearing that ice thin.

He reaches up, brushing a lock of my wet hair behind my ear. Following the strands down, his fingers trace around the curve of my breast. This time, the shiver shooting through my body has nothing to do with the cold.

He explores further, running his fingernails over the ripples of my abs, where he hesitates.

His body stiffens and I look up, confused, but Aidan stares at my ribs. More specifically, on the dark purple bruises from Matteo that have barely faded. A symbol of the punishment I endured for allowing Aidan to touch me.

“I killed him too quickly.” His voice is haunting as he stares at the marks—finding more.

I drag his chin up, tearing his eyes away from my skin. “It’s okay,” I reassure him. “It doesn’t hurt,” I lie. It hurts. But only if someone touches it and God, if I don’t want Aidan to stop touching me.

He shakes his head. “It’s not okay,” his jaw tightening, “No one will ever touch you like that again.” The dangerous edge to his voice ignites a spark deep inside me, only making me want him more. “If they do—they die.” Aidan’s pine green eyes are nearly black when they finally meet mine. I see nothing but unquestionable certainty in his dark gaze. And I… I believe him.

I showed up at the rink today, tail between my legs. Scared, alone, practically begging for his help. He could have laughed or sent me right back where I came from. But—he didn’t. Aidan could have hurt me, or worse. But I knew. Knew . He wouldn’t.

Weeks ago, he pressed his gun to my forehead, demanding I give him a reason not to do it. Not to kill me.Something passed between us at that moment. Something I can’t explain… I looked into his eyes and my tortured heart saw his, and I just knew he wouldn’t do it.

Aidan didn’t even ask a single question before pulling me onto the back of his bike. Bringing me here… to his home. Where he knew I would be safe. And then he left. He went back... And he eliminated the threat. The Irish Devil made Matteo Carroza pay.

“He will never touch me again because of you, Aidan.” I reach up, cupping his face in my palm. The Irish enforcer leans into my touch, his eyes closing at the sound of his name on my lips. “You—your brothers...” I hang my head, no longer able to meet his gaze. “I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”

He grips my chin, jerking it up. “You owe us nothing . Do you hear me?” His eyes blaze as they hold mine. “I don’t know when it happened or how, but—you’re one of us now. And we protect our own.”

“I can’t let you risk?—”

“You’re mine , Rory. My complication, my problem, my angel, mine to protect.”

I think I stopped breathing. Hearing his words—the corner of my mouth twitches up. Aidan’s eyes drop to my mouth and he lets out a groan, “Do that more often.” And then his mouth is on mine again. His hand travels down, down until—I hike up a breath, shuddering when his fingers find my clit.

He pauses there—a single finger moving in slow, gentle circles—waiting. I bite my lip and dip my chin, knowing exactly where this is going and wanting it more than I’ve ever wanted anything. Aidan’s green eyes sparkle. His slow circles drive me mad, building up a delicious tension that runs deep, low, and wild.

I raise my hips, searching... no, needing more.

Aidan’s other hand explores the rest of me. Fingertips trailing down my arm, leaving a tingling warmth in their wake. Jolts of electricity ripple through my body at each point of contact, sending little shivers down my spine and building to an impossible intensity deep within my core.

Hot water streams down my chest, further fanning the heat from the flames that Aidan continues to stoke. As he increases the pressure, a whimper escapes. He swallows the sound with his mouth, again running his tongue along my lip until I open for him.

He rewards me, shoving his finger inside me and curling it up against a spot I don’t know if I knew existed.

I see stars.

Arching my back against the glass, I beg him for more. When Aidan adds a second finger, my knees nearly buckle, but he holds me in place. His fingers slowly pumping in and out, fucking me nearly to climax. The fire in my core becomes inescapable, consuming every thought.

I squirm in his arms. Aidan’s hand closes around my throat to keep me in place. His hold is firm, but gentle. Reminding me of the first time we met, I feel the tension in his grip all the way through my core.

He withdraws his fingers, and I let out a whine of protest, “No?—”

“Don’t worry Angel,” he assures me with a devilish wink, “I’ve got something better.”

I swallow hard. He feels the movement under his palm. The hunger in his eyes sharpens into something more serious as he stares deep into mine. “Are you sure?”

Not breaking our gaze, I dip my chin. A little smile on my lips. Aidan leans forward, hot breath from his mouth right up against my ear, leading to a full body shudder.

“Not good enough—I need to hear you say it, baby.” The contrast between Aidan’s velvety voice in my ear and his firm grip around my throat… the way his hardened body presses me against the shower wall, has me spiraling toward the edge

“Fuck me, Aidan O’Rourke. Fuck me, how you think I deserve.”

He drops to his knees.

Surprised, I try to follow, but his hand holds firm on my throat, holding me back, and that’s when I feel it... Aidan’s tongue trailing up against my clit. My entire body quivers while I twist and squirm. The feeling is too much… overwhelming me. I want to both run and submit to it all at the same time.

He increases the pressure, slipping two fingers in while he sucks my clit. Working me closer and closer to the edge. I throw my head back, my body going taut, so close to unraveling. When Aidan’s teeth graze the little bundle of nerves, I’m done for. Screaming as I come. Exploding like a rocket. He finger fucks me through my orgasm until I go limp in his arms.

Rising, he kisses me roughly as I come down, my knees shaking as he slips his tongue into my mouth.

“Don’t get weak on me now, angel.” He lifts me up into his arms and I wrap my arms around his neck. I still, when I feel the length of him push against my entrance.

My eyes go wide and I keep them locked on Aidan’s. Slowly, ever so slowly, he slides me down onto him. I gasp when he pushes further still. He lets out a groan and I feel myself tighten. My breath catches as he stretches me. I shudder when he pushes even deeper.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathes. His mouth is against my neck—still for a moment while I adjust to him inside of me, filling every inch. Slowly he starts to move, in and out. Each time exploring deeper—pushing harder.

My nails dig into his back, pleasure growing as I chase a second orgasm. My hands find his hair, holding on for dear life as Aidan plows into me. Clinging to him. Letting him take whatever he wants. He fucks me fast and hard and my eyes roll back when he shifts slightly, hitting just the right spot. He senses it and his hands tighten on my ass where he holds me against him. The way he’s making me feel is immaculate. I release little whimpers as I get close.

The hot water streams down over us and Aidan’s voice in my ear nearly does me in. Eliciting shivers through my body. “Come for me baby,” he kisses my neck. I can feel the tip of his tongue graze along my skin. “Come for me again.”

And then he bites down.

I’m done for.

Releasing a scream, I tighten around him, convulsing with the sensation shattering all my barriers, breathless as he fucks me ruthlessly through my second orgasm. Drawing it out until he comes alongside me, his breath ragged.

By the end, we’re both a panting mess against the shower wall. Water pouring down over us, streaming down my face.

Aidan reaches down, turning off the water with one hand, the other keeping me from collapsing. Opening the shower door, he retrieves a towel off the hook.

I’m exhausted, fully sated, and limp in his arms. All defenses obliterated. Aidan could do just about anything he wanted to me right now and—I’d probably let him. Especially if it felt anything like what we’d just done.

Aidan carries me to his bed, gently lowering me down and wrapping me in a soft towel.

He disappears again into the bathroom, emerging a half second later with his own towel wrapped around his bottom half.

Aidan’s body is truly a masterpiece. Every bit a professional athlete, his body a testament to years of training and pushing himself to the limit.

But it’s the tattoos that set off a fresh jolt of electricity through me. Covering nearly every inch of his upper body, dark ink snakes across his skin. Intricate designs I want to trace with my fingers. They tell a story I don’t understand. The ink distracts me from the myriad of scars covering his skin, faded white lines and jagged marks which could have originated from either side of Aidan’s double life. My gaze falls to the green Breakers shamrock inked over his heart and the green roses along his neck.

He notices me staring and walks slowly toward the bed. I push myself up, but Aidan clicks his tongue, “Don’t even think about it.” Confused, I look up. He points at the pillow behind me. “Sleep.”

Seeing the uncertainty on my face, Aidan frowns. The mattress dips under his weight when he climbs into the bed. Joining me.

Next thing I know, there’s a hand wrapped around my middle, tugging me back down and holding me flush against Aidan’s hard chest. I’m stiff in his arms, anxious over what we did and how I’m supposed to act.

Again, I hear Aidan’s voice, a soft whisper against my ear, “Don’t overthink it, ice princess. Just sleep.” His arm tightens around me and I let myself sink further into him. The warmth radiating from him spreads into me. My body relaxes despite my mind still reeling. “Sleep, baby. Where it’s safe.”

I play the words over in my head. Safe ? With Aidan ? This should be the last place I should consider safe. Not long ago, he’d held me hostage in this very room. But yet... wrapped in the arms of one of the Bratva’s greatest enemies, I finally feel the elusive pull of sleep. My eyelids grow heavy, a feeling of calm settling over me.

Safe.

Aidan weaves his fingers through mine, drawing lazy circles along my palm. I have my answer moments later when sleep finally drags me under.

Safe in the arms of the Irish Devil who stole me.