Page 41 of Sins of Arrogance (Syndicate Sins #1)

MICK

Kara comes back from checking on her sister with her spark missing.

What did Fiona say to her?

I force myself to wait to find out, to fix whatever it is, until the party ends.

The Labor Day guests are gone when I ask my wife if she wants to walk on the beach with me.

"Come for a walk with me." I put out my hand, expecting Kara to take it.

Fitz is spending the night with Enoch, watched over by a full complement of bodyguards.

I've given security their instructions to sweep every room, closet and nook of the mansion to make sure it's clear of revelers. The outdoor area has already been swept and the only people left are the cleanup crew.

My wife looks at my hand like it's a snake ready to strike. "A walk? Why?"

"Because I want to." Realizing that isn't exactly romantic, I add. "So, we can talk."

Kara likes talking. She likes romance. Which is why I try, even though it is not natural for a man like me.

More since I noticed the way she watches Miceli with Róise than before.

No Italian mafioso is going to make my wife think her Irish mobster isn't as good of a husband.

Instead of the soft look I'm expecting, Kara's expression goes frosty. "About the divorce you want so you can be with your first love? No thanks."

She turns to go and I'm so shocked by her words it takes me a second to reach out and grab her. Her body tenses when I touch her.

"What the hell do you mean?"

Kara yanks away from me and, not wanting to hurt her, I allow it. But then I swiftly step forward and swing her up into my arms.

She crosses her arms over her gorgeous tits, her expression mutinous. "Don't pretend like you don't know."

"How about you pretend like I don't know and tell me." It sounds reasonable to me.

Kara doesn't think so and tries to twist out of my arms. The daft woman is going to fall and break something.

I tighten my hold and start walking toward the boathouse. We need privacy and I still want to take her for a romantic walk on the beach.

My mouth twists at the thought. But I remember how impressed Kara was when Miceli did that with Róise.

"You told her. I can't believe you told her."

"I told who? What?" I pick up my pace until I'm jogging.

Something is going on with my wife and I need to figure out what.

When we reach the boathouse, I key in the code and let us in. Overhead lights triggered by the motion sensor go on.

Convenient for us when we want to use the boathouse at night and an additional security measure against anyone gaining entry to the property from it.

I installed them after my wife and her cousin snuck off the property to go into the City to celebrate Róise's 21 st birthday with some friends.

They reveal the hurt and anger shimmering in my wife's hazel eyes.

Confused by what could have caused it, I carry her to one of the oversized armchairs and sit down, keeping her firmly in my lap.

"Now, explain please."

"You told Dierdre about the IVF."

Shite.

"No, a stór , I did not."

"Then how did she find out?" Kara demands belligerently.

I sigh. "She read the contract."

"How?"

"My guess is she broke into her father's safe."

"She had no right."

"I agree. I'll tell my father they need to increase security." No way should Dierdre have access to contracts.

As a woman who will most likely marry outside the Northside Dublin Syndicate, allowing her access to sensitive intel is unacceptable.

I've benefitted from that weakness in their security in the past when she shared what she learned with me. But they need to shore it up now, especially if she's going to marry into the Russian bratva.

Kara shifts on my lap and my body has a predictable reaction, but her demeanor says that's not on.

Not yet, anyway.

"She said you told her."

"She's stirring trouble."

"Then send her home."

"You know I can't do that. The Northies are our allies. Your father promised Dierdre protection."

There's the additional benefit of pumping Dierdre for information. We've already got her phone cloned and have combed through her phone logs and texts.

She's been texting with Ilya. Or more accurately, he's been texting her.

She engages. Flirtatiously. But noncommittally.

But like any smart mob princess, she has her locations services disabled on it. So, he's not finding her that way.

So far, she hasn't shared anything about us she shouldn't.

But I wonder if the same is true for her father or mine. Just because I didn't know about the Bunker before I came to New York, doesn't mean they didn't. Making them the most likely source of Ilya's information regarding it.

I don't think my father would knowingly give that information to Ilya, but we're not the only ones with effective drugs for interrogation.

And after discovering Brogan told my da about Kara's jealousy after Fitz's birth, I'm not sure that generation is nearly as circumspect as they need to be.

"Then send her to one of our safehouses. That would fulfill the terms of the alliance."

"If she wasn't the daughter of one of the mob's leaders, it would. But she's is and it won't." Kara knows this.

But her irrationality is understandable given the provocation.

"I'll speak to Dierdre and tell her not to bring it up to you again."

"Don't you dare!" Kara glares at me, fire and brimstone in her eyes. "You're not going to let her know she got to me. Not after I managed to keep my cool and not toss her in the bay by her hair."

The image of my sweet wife doing something so unproper and violent makes me chuckle.

She's not amused though.

Swallowing the urge to keep laughing, I kiss the corner of her mouth, then her temple, and finally her cheek. "I don't want a divorce. I told you, I will never let you go."

"She said she gets what she wants."

"Not me," I assure my wife. "I belong to you as surely as you belong to me."

"Do you mean that?" Kara asks, like there can be any doubt.

"Aye."

"What would you do if another man told you he intended to take me away from you?"

I don't even have to pause to think. "Kill him. Slowly."

"So, you won't mind if I kill your ex-girlfriend."

"I'll help you hide the body," I tease.

As if my gentle wife would ever kill anyone.

"I'll hold you to that."

"As long as you let me hold you."

She relaxes against me and my body takes that as the signal to prove my claim of mutual ownership.

My mouth covers hers and the kiss goes incendiary from one heartbeat to the next.

I have her naked and straddling my still jean covered thighs so fast, even I'm not sure how it happens.

Kara doesn't mind, giving her body to me with the generosity I crave and will never be able to live without.

Her perfect nipples are already swollen and turgid, dark as berries from her arousal.

Arousal that is teasing my nostrils and calling to the primal urge to fuck and conquer. The tantalizing fragrance of her body's lubrication, along with the scent of her skin.

I lean down and kiss each gorgeous peak, first softly with my lips closed.

Left breast. Right breast. Then again with my lips parted, breathing hot air against the sensitive flesh.

And once more with a swirl of my tongue, reveling in the taste of her skin as much as its petal softness.

Finally I let myself taste her with carnal intensity, gently tugging with my teeth before sucking her nipple into my mouth.

She's squirming and moaning before I move onto her other delicious tit.

These baps are mine.

She knows it. And I know it.

She groans and presses herself against my mouth.

No more holding back. No more denial of the truth.

We belong to each other.

The invitation is too sweetly given to ignore. I pull back, taking her nipple between my teeth and teasing it with the tip of my tongue.

"Stop teasing me, Michael! You know what I need."

She needs to come.

But not yet.

She's so sensitive here. After giving birth to Fitz, that sensitivity only increased. Making her climax from nipple stimulation alone isn't something I always have the patience for.

But when I do, it is always worth it.

For both of us.

"You are so perfect for me, mo chuisle ."

Whimpering, her breathing grows increasingly erratic.

I gently nip her swollen berry.

She arches up, making her pillowy softness indent against my mouth. "Oh, yesssss..."

I pull her nipple and the surrounding aureole completely into my mouth and start suckling hard.

Incoherent pleas fall from her lips, her fingers tunnel into my hair and yank. Not to get me away, but because she needs something to hold onto.

Concentrating all my expertise and knowledge of my wife and her responses, I move from one delicious tit to the other, savoring each over and over again.

Pushing her toward completion, but not letting her come.

Not yet.

She writhes in my lap, rubbing the apex of her thighs against my steel hard cock, unconsciously pleasuring us both.

Primitive need holds me back from giving her my fingers.

Sliding my hands over her backside, I press them between her fleshy cheeks, touching the sensitive rosebud.

She goes wild against me.

Someday, I'm going to claim this tight little hole, like I've claimed the rest of her. I don't know what holds me back.

A harsh laugh sounds inside my head, mocking me.

I know all right.

If I fuck her ass, she'll see the part of me that is more monster than man. The brutal need I hold in check every time we make love.

Just like I hold it back now. But I let my fingertip press, barely breaching her tight sphincter.

My wife is so responsive, incredibly beautiful in her passion.

How could she think for a second I want another woman?

There is no other woman.

They do not exist to me.

Only her. My Kara.

The pulse of my beating heart.

She writhes, alternately pulling my hair and pushing my head against her creamy curves.

"Michael!Please.It's too much."

A dark laugh rumbles in my chest and I suckle harder.

"No." An agonized groan. "Yes." She cries out, "Don't stop. Oh, harder, please, Michael, just a little harder."

I give her what she wants and when her body bows in ecstasy, I bite down more firmly on the tender bud in my mouth while releasing the hold on my most basic instincts enough to press my finger into her ass to the first knuckle.

She screams and comes with one body-racking shudder after another, while I keep stimulating her breasts and she dry humps me until I come in my pants for the first time since she got pregnant with Fitz.

I shout loud enough to wake the dead and she finally goes limp, slumping against me.

I pull her as close to my body as I can. "Mine."

"It goes both ways, Mick." She nuzzles into my neck.

Yes. It does.