Page 53 of Sins of Arrogance (Syndicate Sins #1)

MICK

We take the helicopter back into the City because Kara likes Asian Fusion food and the restaurant with the best reviews is here.

Now, that was a logistical nightmare, but Kara was determined to take him. So, I made it happen.

Does she understand that was as much for her as it was for Fitz? My gut tells me she doesn't.

We're about twenty minutes into the flight when she turns her gaze on me. I haven't had my eyes on anything but her the whole flight.

Her eyes widen, like she's surprised to find me looking at her. Where else would I be looking when she's so feckin' sexy?

Her black dress has sleeves that reach right past her elbows, but her shoulders are bare and there's a deep V showing off her cleavage. She's wearing the necklace I gave her earlier, the bottom tip of the heart just touching the top of the deep crevice between her gorgeous baps.

It's some kind of stretchy fabric, so it clings to all her womanly curves and my dick is telling me what an idiot I am for this date thing. If we were back at the house in Martha's Vineyard, we could be getting naked.

We have nominal privacy in the private lounge of the helicopter, but the divider between the other part of the cabin with our security team and the lounge is half wall, half curtain.

Not soundproof.

Regardless, if we were still in Martha's Vineyard, Kara wouldn't have that sweet smile playing over her lips. Her eyes wouldn't sparkle like they're doing now.

And no matter how hot our chemistry, she'd be as apt to douse the flames between us as fan them.

I fucked up royally with the Dierdre situation. That's no reason to ask her father for permission to divorce me, but I hurt her. And that is not okay.

She doesn't feel valued and she's one of the two people I treasure above all others.

When the psych books talk about people like me finding their person , they're talking about Kara.

A strange look comes over her beautiful face.

"What is it?" I search her eyes, trying to figure out what she's thinking.

Just lately, that's not as easy as it used to be.

"It just hit home that my husband of seven years is taking me out on a date for the first time," she says wistfully.

"We've been on dates before."

"No, we haven't. You've taken me out to dinner for our anniversary. Out of duty, but this is the first time it's a real date."

And she likes that it is.

I may not know why it's so important to her, but I can see that it is. "It won't be the last."

"Is that a promise?" Suddenly she's looking vulnerable.

I don't hesitate. "It is."

"Zoey and Fiona date, even though they don't leave the house." Kara's hands fidget in her lap.

There's a message there and I take my time figuring out what it is. I don't jump to a lot of conclusions. That's not how my brain works.

But it's more than that. Getting it right matters.

Because I am not giving my wife a divorce and I'd much rather she was okay with that than fighting me on it.

"If I had realized that dating was important to you, I would have taken you for a picnic on the beach." Zoey and Fiona did that at least once a week during the summer.

And it clicks.

Zoey's a mafiosa, but she still makes time to spend time one-on-one out of the bedroom with Fiona. She's not an underboss, but even with my schedule, I could have made that happen.

I know why I didn't. My wife does not.

Pulling one of her fidgety hands into mine, I lace our fingers. "Spending time alone with you outside of our bedroom was too risky."

She gasps. "What do you mean?"

"My need for control. My intensity. You didn't question it when we were making love."

The look she gives me says not to be so sure. "You hold something back then too, though. I can tell."

She's right. "There are things I want…" I shake my head. "If I let go of my control, I would devour you."

"Maybe I want to be devoured."

"I hope so." Her threat to leave me all but destroyed the leash I have on my primal urges where she's concerned.

"Tell me what you're really afraid of, Mick." She's so earnest.

So open.

So different from me. "You probably think I didn't touch you last night because I was respecting your boundaries."

"And maybe you were a little worried I'd knee you in the groin if you did." She winks.

That thought hadn't occurred to me, but I'm glad it did to her. Because if she'd done that, it would have had the desired effect.

Not because she hurt me too much for me to perform, but my tender-hearted wife doesn't cause pain to others. If she does, there's a compelling reason why.

I could not have ignored her overcoming her basic nature to get my attention.

"I didn't touch you other than to hold you, because if I did," I tell her. "I was worried I would destroy all the boundaries between us." Like I've wanted to do so many times.

My lizard brain doesn't understand why I can't fuck her in the ass, or shove my dick down her throat. My need to protect her has been stronger than those instincts though.

Up to now.

"What kind of boundaries?" she asks, her voice catching, her pupils dilated.

Feckin' hell. She's turned on by the idea, not repelled.

"I want to come in your tight little ass and make you climax while I'm doing it."

Her mouth makes a perfect O, but nothing comes out. Not even a breath.

"I want to fuck your throat and see the tears run down your temples from choking on my cock." Said cock is hard as a rock and raging right now.

Kara licks her lips. "You do?"

"Aye." Fuck. How can she doubt it?

I pull her hand over the console between us and press it against the pipe trying to break my zipper.

She squeezes.

My hips buck.

"Stop." But I don't move her hand away, do I?

"I don't want to." She squeezes me again and rubs her hand up and down the log in my pants. "I want you to lose control, Mick."

She doesn't know what she's asking for. "You're going to get your wish if you keep that up. I'll fuck you right here."

"With the pilot and the security team just on the other side of the curtain?" She doesn't sound appalled by the idea; she sounds excited.

Fuck. Me.

Kara's hand strokes me through my trousers like she owns me – which she does – and I bite back a groan.

"You want me," she whispers.

"No feckin’ idea how much," I rasp, the muscles in my thighs locking up with restraint. "Get in my lap."

She hesitates.

I undo my seatbelt. "If you want this, get your tight pussy over here."

I don't talk to her like this. That's not part of our sex life.

But instead of offending her, it turns my wife on. She unbuckles her seatbelt and jumps up before reaching under her dress and pulling off her panties.

This version of Kara is going to kill me dead, but I'll enjoy every second on my road to hell.

"Come here, mo chroí ." The words rumble from deep in my chest.

Tugging her sexy dress up to her hips, she scrambles onto my lap. Without hesitating, Kara swings one leg over, straddling me. Her knees settle on either side of my hips on the soft leather seat, her dress riding up over her thighs.

I drag my palms over the silky skin of her legs, so warm and soft.

Breathing hard, she leans forward and braces her hands on my shoulders.

I kiss her. Hard.

Her mouth parts with a gasp, and I take full advantage. Our tongues collide, and everything I’ve been holding back – everything she’s just given me permission to unleash – pours out of me.

She rocks against me, and my hands slide to her backside, gripping the generous curve and pulling her tight to me. I grind against her, and she moans into my mouth.

"I need you now," she pants. "I need you in me. "

That’s all it takes. I yank at my belt, then my zipper. Then I line myself up, the head of my cock brushing against her wet heat.

"This is what you want?" I growl, my voice low and rough in her ear. "You want me to fuck you in a helicopter, knowing my men are just feet away?"

"Yes," she whispers, and that one word damn near undoes me.

She sinks down slowly, taking me in inch by inch, her breath catching as I stretch her open. But I'm not going slow. She said she wants me to devour her. So, I do.

Taking her mouth like the marauder I am, I surge up, forcing myself inside her to the hilt in one brutal thrust.

She cries out against my lips, but she doesn't try to pull away. Her hips cant back and forth pressing her needy little clit against my pelvis.

My fingers dig into her hips as I guide her body up and down on my swollen dick.

"You’re so tight," I mutter against her lips. "So bleedin' hot and wet."

"You make me that wa—" Her words cut off in a wail when I yank her downward as I shove upwards, hitting her cervix.

Fuck. I have to slow down.

Regain control.

But Kara's vaginal walls tighten around me, and my wife's body goes rigid in climax.

What the bleedin' hell just happened?

I rip my lips from hers and our gazes lock. She's moving against me, riding out her ecstasy, not a single sign of distress on her pleasure flushed features.

My lips find her neck. Her jaw. Her mouth again.

I'm not done. And neither is she.

Surging up, I carry her across the small lounge and lay her flat on the bench seat there. Then I start to piston in and out of her, forcing her body to take more pleasure.

Yanking her dress down her arms, I expose her generous curves. I want to squeeze her tits. Play with her nipples.

And that's what I do as I ride her pussy with all the power in my body so much bigger than hers.

"You were made for me," I growl. "Everything about you."

Pupils blown, she demands, "Say it again."

"You. Were. Made. For. Me."

She moans, loud enough I know even the pilot heard it. Good. Let them know who she belongs to.

Our bodies slap together, the wet sound of our joining loud in the otherwise silent cabin. Her dress is bunched up like a corset from just below her boobs to the top of her mons. The necklace I gave her glints in the soft light, a message and a claim.

She is mine.

Always.

"I’m coming again! Oh, Michael," she gasps, her voice tinged with awe.

It's not the first time she's climaxed so close together. Something else is making her sound like that.

"Let go," I growl. "Right now, Kara. Let me feel you."

She does.

Her whole body trembles as she falls apart under me, clenching around me in rhythmic spasms that drag me right over the edge with her.

I thrust once, twice, and then empty myself inside her with a low, guttural curse.

We cling to each other as we come down. I roll off the bench, landing on the floor, Kara on top of me. She laughs and it makes her swollen pussy clench around my still hard dick.

Then Kara slumped against my chest, both of us panting, sweaty, and completely wrecked.

"I hope your team enjoyed the soundtrack." Her giggle is soft. Sweet.

So like my wife, but the vixen who seduced me into fucking her on a helicopter full of soldiers has a dark side too.

"If they did, I might have to perforate their eardrums."

She rears up and stares down at me. "No." That's all she says.

And fuck if the jealous and raging beast inside me doesn't calm down.

"You didn't keep anything back from me this time." Her eyes glisten. "You were all here."

"I'm always all here when I'm with you."

"But you don't always let me see that all. In fact, you never have before."

Is that why she was so happy she orgasmed a second time with almost no stimulation? Hell, the first time she came didn't take any time at all either.

Is she that turned on by the real Michael Fitzgerald?

For the first time in my life, shock has my tongue completely tied.

One truth reverberates through my mind. If I want to keep my wife, I have to give her my true self, not the one I think won't scare her.

Bleedin' hell. I'm not sure mo stór is afraid of anything.

Who would have guessed the key to her willingness to stay with me would be me giving her full access to the sociopath she's married to?