Page 36 of Stolen Rival (The Stolen #1)

PATRICK

My wife has a glow as she says goodbye to Rosanna. It’s clear the two have bonded, which doesn’t surprise me in the least. I meant it when I told Sorcha that she and Rosanna were alike.

Although… perhaps this wasn’t my best idea. Sorcha has enough spirit without adding an equally feisty woman into the mix. Despite my misgivings, though, the way she’s standing that little bit taller as she slams the car door and tramps toward the house makes me glad I did.

Especially as I plan to confront her with what I overheard her saying to Cathal. Carrot and stick.

I’ve had a few days to mull over my strategy, to gain control of the anger bubbling beneath the surface that she still believes there is a way to escape me.

It’s about time I laid it on the line. There isn’t a square inch of this planet she could run to where I wouldn’t be able to find her.

Especially with the challenges of her brother being in a wheelchair.

On some level, she must understand that, even if she’s trying to convince herself otherwise .

“Good day?” I ask genially.

A momentary flash of confusion whips across her face. “Yes, thank you.”

I step back to let her pass, then close the door. “Would you like to join me in my study for a drink?”

Two deep lines pop between her eyebrows. “O-kay.”

I motion her forward, following in her footsteps. She crosses the threshold into my office, then hovers, as if she isn’t sure where to sit.

“Take your pick.” I sweep my arm at the choice of seating. She chooses the couch. Interesting. “What would you like?”

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether this is a conversation befitting a triple brandy or something lighter like a gin and tonic.”

My lips twitch. Once upon a time, I’d have cut her sass down with a few barely veiled threats. Now, her backchat amuses me. I’d go as far as to say I relish it when she shows her spine.

Crossing over to the drinks cabinet in the farthest corner, I pour myself a glass of water with ice and make her a gin and tonic. I join her on the couch, hand over her drink, and lightly touch my tumbler to hers.

“To new beginnings.”

Her head tilts to one side, confusion dancing behind her lashes. She’s off-balance, wondering where I’m going with this, and I am enjoying every second of her bewilderment. She takes a sip, then sets her drink on the table to her left.

“Why don’t you drink?”

I contain my surprise that she’s noticed I avoid alcohol. This woman notices things. She has a keen eye and attention to detail that many would gloss over or ignore completely. I’m not sure whether that’s good or bad.

“I don’t like how it makes me feel. Tell me about your day.”

She pauses for a second, perhaps considering delving further into my obvious brush-off. Not that I have any plans to tell her the real reason I’m teetotal.

“No doubt your spy will tell you soon enough. I’m pretty sure Rosanna was a plant, and she’ll report back to Garrett, who will then relay every detail to you.”

I chuckle. “Rosanna would never agree to play that part. If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine, but if you think I have the means to find out some other way, you’re wrong.

” After setting my glass down, I move closer to her.

“I wanted to reward you, like we agreed. No agenda.” Reaching out, I tug on her earlobe then gently brush my fingers down the slope of her neck.

“Oh.” Her shoulders relax, and she settles back into the couch. “We had a lovely time. Rosanna is terrific. I hope we can do it again sometime.”

“I’m sure we can arrange that.” I slide my hand around the back of her neck, gently massaging the nape. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”

Clasping the cross hanging on a thin gold chain around her neck, she scissors it from side to side. “I don’t understand you at all.”

I chuckle. “Few do, mo mhuirnín. ”

“You like that, don’t you? Keeping people on their toes?”

“Yes. It goes with the territory. In my line of work, it’s important to keep both your friends and your enemies off-kilter.”

“And which one am I?”

Gently, I run my thumb over her bottom lip. “A little of both.”

She clasps my wrist, but instead of pulling me away, she holds me in place for a second or two before parting her lips and sucking my thumb into her mouth. My stomach vaults, memories of our one time together in New York reminding me how good she felt, all womanly curves and warm flesh.

And how out of control she made me feel. Something that won’t happen again, either in the bedroom or out of it.

There’s a popping sound when I remove my thumb. “Come here.” I pat my lap, and she scrambles over to my side of the couch, straddling me. I plant both my hands on her arse and grind her down on my rock-hard cock. She moans, rubbing herself on me, thrusting out her chest as her back arches.

Sliding my hands up her sides, I cup her tits and push them together, burying my nose in her cleavage.

Her nipples bead, telegraphing what her body craves, even if in her mind I’m still the enemy.

I’ll always be her enemy. Nothing I can do or say will ever make up for the fact that I gave the order that wiped out her entire family.

But if this is what being enemies with Sorcha is like, I can’t say I’m mad about it.

I pinch both her nipples through her clothing and twist them roughly.

“God,” she moans. “I hate that I love this.”

“I know.”

“More.” She groans, throwing back her head until the ends of her hair brush against my hands, her hips circling with increasing velocity.

“Take what you need. Grind on me.”

“Fuck. Fuck. ”

I snap a hand around the back of her neck and smash her lips to mine. Pushing my tongue inside her mouth, I duel with hers. The smell of her envelops me, all sweet woman and a hint of lilac from the shampoo she uses.

This wasn’t how I planned for this to go, but plans change. There’s plenty of time to put her in her place, but right now, her place is right where she is.

Keeping our mouths locked, I palm her right tit, kneading, massaging, plucking at her diamond-hard nipple.

Her movements are wild now. She’s close, panting, moaning out words that don’t make sense.

I shove her shirt up and scoop her breast out of her bra.

Breaking off our kiss, I fasten my mouth over her right nipple, and I bite down.

“Oh, God.”

As she explodes, I suck her breast, bruising her.

Marking her. By the time she comes down from her orgasmic high, I’ve left four love bites all over the soft, plump flesh.

It’s been years since I gave a woman love bites, but as I watch the skin turn red and purple, I don’t regret a fucking thing.

For the next few days, every time she looks in the mirror as she gets out of the shower, she’ll see my mark, and she’ll know who she belongs to.

Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes wild with the force of her release. I shift her weight to give me room to unfasten my belt and unzip my trousers. Reaching into my boxers, I pull out my dick.

“On your knees, mo mhuirnín .”

She blinks several times in succession, her eyes flickering from the purple crown weeping at the slit and my face. “I-I don’t know how.”

“Sure you do. It’s my thumb, only bigger.” I cup her chin and tug until her mouth opens. I shove my thumb inside, and sure enough, she sucks. My dick twitches and I groan. “Just like that. ”

I reach for a cushion and toss it at my feet.

She hesitates, uncertainty warring with curiosity playing out across her face.

I could force her, demand she service me, but I don’t want to.

It’s more of a victory if she chooses to suck me off.

Any man can force a woman through sheer will, but that’s not my gig. Never has been, never will be.

Wrapping my hand around the base, I tug, a soft moan echoing in my chest. The entire time, I keep my eyes on her.

On the third tug, she places her hand over mine, stopping me.

As she lifts herself off my lap, I widen my thighs, leaving space for the cushion she moves into place.

She kneels before me, and I release my dick and brace both hands behind my head.

The first tentative swipe of her tongue draws a hiss of air from me.

There’s something intoxicating about an inexperienced woman that I wouldn’t have thought would turn me on. Until Sorcha.

As the seconds pass, she finds her rhythm, her head bobbing, tongue caressing, her tiny hand pumping me until I have to bite my lip and think non-sexy thoughts to stop myself from blowing my load too soon.

I murmur words of encouragement and stroke her hair.

She’ll hate me when this is over, when I revert to the original plan to make her understand that her life is tied to mine and no amount of pushing against the establishment will ever set her free.

I might as well show her a little kindness while my dick is down her throat.

My spine tingles and I grunt, shooting jets of cum into my innocent wife’s mouth. Give her credit, she takes it all, gagging and choking as she swallows.

When she’s taken every drop, I pull out of her and zip myself up, then hold out a hand, and she takes it, pushing herself to a standing position. I pat the seat beside me.

“Sit down. ”

She does, her teeth drawing across her bottom lip. “Was that… okay?”

Okay? It was fucking incredible. I’ve got nail marks in my palm from fighting to maintain control and not lose myself to her again. “Better than okay. You did well, especially for your first time.”

Her cheeks pinken. She’s adorable when she embodies a submissive role, but it’s not her natural place.

She’s a fighter, a scrappy little thing who will constantly push her boundaries until she breaks free.

I can’t have that. Dylan made sure our futures were entwined, and I won’t have a slip of a girl tearing my dreams down.

“I know what you’re planning, Sorcha.”

Her tongue flicks over her lips, and she swallows. “What do you mean?”

“I heard what you said to Cathal.” When she keeps her expression schooled, I smile. “What was it? Oh, that’s it. ‘Don’t you worry, Cathal. I’m working on a plan to get us both out of here as soon as possible. Then we’ll be together forever. You and me against the world.’ That’s right, isn’t it?”

She swallows again, wrapping both arms across her abdomen. “I… You’ve misunderstood.”

“I don’t think so.” Reaching out, I clasp a lock of her hair, twirling it around my finger.

“Whatever you’re cooking up in that pretty little head of yours, forget it.

You’re wasting your time. I’m always watching.

There is no escape. Wherever you go, I’ll find you and make you regret every second we were apart.

You think you’re trapped now? That’s nothing compared to how fucking excruciating I could make your life.

You are stuck with me forever, mo mhuirnín .

The sooner you come to accept that, the better your life will be. ”

I tug on her hair, yanking her head back. “Think about what I’ve said. I can be a cruel man, Sorcha, or I can be generous and giving. Which one you end up with is entirely in your hands.”

Releasing her, I stand, grab my water and drain the glass. “I have work to do. Make yourself scarce.”

“You… you arsehole. You told me you’d never do this to me again, but you’re a liar.”

An uncomfortable feeling circles in my chest, one that tastes of regret and broken promises.

She’s right. I did say that, but then she changed the rules with what she said to Cathal.

When I just stare at her, a sob breaks free from her throat, and the daggers she sends my way would kill a lesser man. “I hate you,” she whispers.

She whips around and storms out, slamming my office door behind her.

Several minutes later, I’m still staring at the door, a river of hate running through my veins. Not for her, but for myself.