Page 8 of Sins of Arrogance (Syndicate Sins #1)

MICK

My strategy is working faster than I expected it to.

My usually reticent wife has never once touched me in an even remotely intimate way with other people around.

But in staking her claim, she did the unthinkable. And I was more than happy to capitalize on her unexpected behavior, keeping the back of her hand pressed against my hard cock throughout dinner.

She didn't once try to pull away after the first time. Not until Fitz launched himself at her.

My son's distress deflated my erection faster than an ice bath. If Fitz wasn't so upset, I'd ask Fiona to watch him so Kara and I could have some time alone.

But Dierdre has Fitz riled up good and proper.

I set Fitz and Kara down on the sofa. "Look at me mo leanbh ."

Fitz obeys me instantly and I take that as a win.

I shrug out of my summer weight suit jacket and indicate the gun holster under my left arm. Then I put my left foot on the coffee table and lift my pant leg so he can see the small pistol holstered there.

I switch feet and show the double knife holster on either side of my ankle on my right leg.

After that, I reveal the hidden knife in my belt buckle and the razor wire that slides out of my leather belt. "I am always prepared to keep you and your mam safe."

"What if you aren't with her? What if you're working and the bad guys come for her?"

"There is not another man alive badder, or scarier than me," I promise our son. "And when I'm not with yiz, I always make sure at least six men are watching over you."

"And mommy too?" Fitz stresses.

Where is this coming from? Why does my son believe I value his mother's safety less than his? "Aye."

"Even when she goes somewhere without me?" Fitz asks doubtfully.

"Next to you, boyo, your mam is the most important person to me in the world." As the words leave my mouth, I realize where some of my son's fears stem from.

I've said something similar to him many times believing it would give him comfort. Now, I realize it has caused him to create a narrative in his mind where I don't value Kara's safety as much as his.

The way that Kara looks down at our son and doesn't meet my eyes tells me she buys into the same narrative.

Feckin' hell.

I'm not a man made to comfort others. Present situation a glaring example of that truth. But I cannot leave either of them believing that I won't burn down the world to protect Kara.

"I will never let anyone take your mommy away from us," I promise Fitz before lifting my wife's chin so our eyes meet. "Ye are mine Kara, now and forever. I will always protect you."

Her eyes soften like they do sometimes. "I know."

But she doesn't know. Does she? Neither does Fitz. Words are not enough and they're not my strong suit anyway.

I pull out my phone and send two texts. One to the head of security and one to the group message stream for the entire team dedicated to watching over my wife and son.

I get seven immediate responses. All of them affirmative. Not that I expect anything less. These men know their lives are forfeit if anything happens to their charges. They knew it long before I had to teach that lesson to the rest of our soldiers.

"From now on, when I'm not here, there will be security both inside and outside the apartment. Two of your guards will be visible at all times."

Kara's mouth drops open, but whatever she wants to say gets swallowed as our son nods enthusiastically. "Even when mommy is alone."

"Even then," I promise him.

My wife is not nearly as happy about the change as our son. I'm not sure why. There's no material change in her routine. The guards were always there, she just didn't see them.

"Did you think yiz didn't have guards with yiz at all times?" I ask her.

"Why would we have guards inside the house?" she asks back.

But clearly she didn't.

She still thinks I don't know about the little outing she arranged with Róise for her cousin's twenty-first. Kara has no clue that the minute she left the estate, I got an alert from her tracker.

She only got that far without me knowing because my wife is scary good at disabling alarms and hacking security footage. I had eyes on her the minute they reached the dock of the mansion further down the coastline.

After following them into the city, I watched over them the entire time they were there and made sure my wife made it safely back to the estate.

Then I told our blackgloves to take the mansion security firewalls to the level of a nuclear weapons facility. Should have done it sooner, but Kara's the only one who ever managed to hack through the ones we had.

And she had inside access. Regardless, even she won't find a way in now. Unless she gets physical access to the server room, and we beefed up security to that too.

"Because what happened to Róise will never happen to yiz." My wife is never leaving the estate without me knowing again.

Fitz draws in a sharp breath. "You promise, da?"

"Aye."

"Double pinky swear." Fitz shoves his arms out, crosses them and extends both of his pinkies.

What the feck is this? I look to Kara for an explanation. And of course she has one. There's nothing about our son she doesn't know.

"Enoch taught him. You cross your arms, and twine your pinkies and swear to keep your promise."

I do as she says, curling my pinkies around my son's smaller ones. "I double pinky swear to always protect you and your mam."

Fitz throws himself against me and hugs tight. "Thank you da!" He pulls back, grinning. "Can I go play with Enoch now?"

"Aye, if you want." I text the man stationed outside our door and Fitz's personal bodyguard who is on standby when my son is with me.

Less than a minute later, Kara and I are alone.

She's looking at the door as if she can still see our son through it. "I'd feel better if I knew Fi was watching him too."

"Then text her."

Kara nods, but doesn't move to grab her phone. "I still want him to see a child psychologist."

"Aye." A pinky swear isn't going cure my son of the trauma of seeing Róise disappear from the dock right in front of him.

"You're a lot more accepting of the idea than I expected you to be." Her gaze shifts from the door to me, her pretty hazel eyes filled with questions.

"I'm not an unreasonable man, mo chuisle ."

"That's not what the soldiers who hide behind bushes when they see you coming think," she teases me.

She's the only person who ever does. The only person I would allow to.

"If my soldiers are jumping behind bushes to avoid me, they need another lesson in doing their jobs."

"Yeah, sure. That's exactly what they need. Another reason to fear you."

Something goes cold in my chest. "What do you know about my lessons to the men?"

"Only that since you dealt with Troy, the men avoid you to a near comical level." She sounds amused.

Not distressed by the truth she's married to a monster. She has no idea what went on at the warehouse. And she never will. I promised to cut the tongue out of any man's mouth who so much as breathes a word about it around her.

"Not all the men." My crew doesn't avoid me.

They know better.

I don't tolerate weakness.

"If you say so," my wife sasses. "I better text Fi."

"I'll do it." If she texts her sister, Kara is as apt to end up joining them as to stay here with me.

And that would feck with my plans to drown myself in her tight pussy. Before Kara can argue, I send the text to Fiona.

She texts back immediately that they're all going to play a game of croquet.

Good. That should be enough time.

I drop my phone and pick up my wife.

She gasps but immediately wraps her arms around my neck. "I could get used to this."

Yeah. I don't think so. My wife is too independent to let me carry her around and keep her attached at my side like I want to. I crave her full attention, only ever really okay with sharing it with Fitz.

Everyone else only exists in our world because it would hurt her if they didn't.

I carry her straight into our bedroom and kick the door shut behind me. My hands don't shake, but they should. They would if I was a normal man.

I married Kara for what that marriage would give me. But now I crave her for her own sake. All the damn feckin' time.

When she put her hand on my thigh, pressed against my cock like she owns it? The howling wind inside me quieted.

Even the monster recognizes the truth. She does own us.

Somehow, after seven years of marriage Kara still doesn't realize that though. Not really. Or this afternoon wouldn't have been the first time she made a move like that.

It almost makes me want to thank Dierdre for coming to New York.

Kara's fingers trail up my nape, soft and trusting. She doesn’t speak. Doesn’t need to. She’s watching me with hunger and fear twisted together like silk and barbed wire.

Doubt she even realizes the fear is there. It's atavistic, not conscious. But the hunger has her arousal perfuming the air around us.

I drop her onto the bed. She bounces once, her tits jiggling in a way that tells me she's not wearing a bra under her sundress. Her hair falls across her face like a veil and I want to wrap it around my fist and yank it back.

The flush of arousal pinkens the swell of her breasts above the neckline of that sweet little dress. Her nipples already hard, creating shoals in the fabric and begging for my mouth.

I love her tits. So damn lush and sensitive. Nipples as big and dark as raspberries. I could spend hours sucking them, watching her tremble while she tries to hide how much she needs me.

But not tonight. My patience burned to cinders the second our son left the apartment.

"Ye started something at dinner," I growl, pulling my shirt over my head.

Her eyes go wide when they land on my chest.

She’s seen me naked more times than I can count, but it's the same look of voracious hunger every time. Like just looking at me sends her pussy spasming.

Our gazes locked, I undo my belt. "And I’m going to finish it."

Hers drops to follow the motion. She swallows.

Kara’s breath stutters, but she doesn’t look away. "You seemed fine with letting her touch you."

My hands still. "Ye want to talk about Dierdre now?"

Something not good flashes in her expression before it's gone, replaced with unmistakable hunger. "I don’t want to talk at all."