Page 27 of Sweet Deception (Irish Kings #4)

Chapter Twenty-Four

Well, this is weird.

I’ve never massaged another human being. Ever. Why would I?

I’m acting on instinct and operating outside the scope of my logical brain. That’s the only explanation for why my hands remain glued to Nika’s ankle and calf. Squeezing, pressing, rubbing.

The side of my face burns with the weight of her stare, but when I glance up at her, she drops her gaze.

Maybe she wants me to stop. Maybe everything about this dynamic has gone too far, and this is all one giant mistake.

“Why are you…” I strain to hear the whispered words, her voice soft as Napalm’s fur. “…being so kind to me?”

A strange lump forms in my throat. “Least I can do. I’m the reason you’re injured, aren’t I?”

I haven’t forgotten yesterday. The way her clever shampoo trap took me down. How I yanked on her leg to stop her from escaping. I never intended to hurt her, but clearly I did. I don’t know my own strength half the time.

Her stunning mini performance this morning only worsened things.

Surprise paints her beautiful face. “What?”

“Despite what you may think, making amends isn’t a completely foreign concept to me.”

Her hands cover mine. “Darren, you didn’t hurt me.”

I pull her ankle all the way into my lap, forcing her to shift toward me. “You don’t need to mask your pain on my behalf. Hurting people is what I do.”

I flinch. Why the fuck did I just say that? I need to quit talking so much.

Silence gathers around us as she digests my words. If the intensity of her stare burned before, it scalds my skin now. “Hey, it’s not your fault. I was messed up when you met me.” She shakes her head, squeezing my fingers before folding them in her lap. “My ankle’s been this way for over a decade.”

“What do you mean?” I lean closer to her and halt the massage so I can stroke my way up to her thighs. All that smooth skin wrapped around firm muscles pulses lust through my veins.

“I broke my ankle and dislocated my hip when I was seventeen. Continuing my dance training after that was out of the question.”

“That had to be devastating.”

“It was. My dream getting ripped away was awful but nowhere near as bad as losing my last living relative to a car accident at the age of thirteen. My grandmother.” The pain in her gray eyes pierces my chest, and suddenly, all I want to do is soothe her hurt away.

Even if that means turning back time and murdering the asshole who stole the last of her family from her. “I was in the car with her.”

Using my thumb, I trace her soft, smooth eyebrow and the white mark above it. “Is the accident also how you got this scar?”

She nods, eyes downcast.

No wonder she freaked out yesterday when I stared. “Sounds like you’ve lost a lot.” I glide my knuckles across her cheek in an attempt to comfort her somehow. To convey that I’m here with her.

Since when do I go out of my way to console women? Especially one who, during our first meeting, fooled me into bringing her to my hotel room so she could steal from me?

She scoffs. “You have no idea.”

I pause. “Don’t I?”

Every rational impulse screams at me not to overshare with this woman because the story forming on my tongue is ugly. For the first time, I realize that I care about what she thinks of me. That terrible, absurd feeling defies logic.

“I was given my first demolition order for the family when I was sixteen.” A cement block weighs down my chest. “I had a natural talent for it, so it wasn’t long before other jobs came in.

Around my third or fourth major assignment, I was showing off, trying to create a bigger and better blast every time. ”

For this next part, I force myself to maintain eye contact.

“Then one of my bombs detonated too early.” The heavy ache of guilt still presses me down, even if I rarely admit it. “Before anyone was a safe enough distance away.”

On occasion, images and sounds of that day still wake me out of a dead sleep.

The carnage. The acrid stench of scorched flesh. The unspeakable sight of body parts, blown here and there. I’d killed innocents…

Nika’s eyes widen as they flick over me. She’s probably deciding what kind of monster I am. Good. That’s exactly what she should be doing.

She needs to know the truth. This is more than just swapping stories about our pasts. If we’re going to keep touching each other like this, building trust matters.

Fucking hell. When did my life turn into a soap opera?

“You mean,” she inches a little closer, “you went through something that horrible and it didn’t break you?”

I shake my head. “No. Something in me…snapped. I became obsessed with perfecting my skills with explosives. And I guess you could say I also developed something of a reckless streak. I treat death like an opponent.”

“Yeah, I’ve picked up on that.” The edge in her voice confirms everything.

She’s disgusted with me, and I completely understand why.

I’m the one who does the dirty work. I build bombs, end lives. Who in their right mind could ever love a person like that?

I learned to embrace my role as the Kings’ chaos agent, their weapons expert…the man who laughs while buildings burn to the ground. Fuck love. Fuck understanding. I convinced myself I’d settle for fear and respect.

But in these past few days with Veronika Kotova, I’ve lost sight of that.

It stops now.

I roll my shoulders before retreating from her personal space. The sooner I screw my head back on straight, the sooner all this will be over with. That’s what I tell myself.

Then Nika’s warm fingers circle my hand. She raises it to her mouth and kisses the scarred ridge along my knuckles. Gentle, insistent, affirming?—

I can’t take this anymore.

My free hand slides around the back of her neck, and I pull her face to mine, where I devour her lips with an unfamiliar—even for me—intensity.

My cock’s up the second her hot tongue touches mine, and I can’t stop kissing her.

She winds her arms around my neck, holding me close with all her strength. I maneuver her lithe limbs until she’s straddling me and pressing down on my throbbing dick.

She presses herself tighter to me, and our kiss turns more intimate. Something between us is deepening. I can feel it.

She knows I’ve murdered people with these hands, and she still kissed them like they were precious. Like I matter to her.

In this moment, I want her more than I can ever remember wanting anyone or anything in my life.

When we break apart several minutes later, panting, our eyes lock. Hesitation blooms over her beautiful face. She’s a logical person. Of course she’s uncertain.

Too many complications dangle between us, and I’d be lying if I said that hesitation didn’t hold me captive as well. It’s just that my desire is stronger. Much stronger.

My hands rest on her thighs, and she loosens her arms from around my neck to lower her hands onto mine. She begins tracing the scars on my knuckles again, soft and reassuring, and all my resistance crumbles to dust.

“Sit up.”

She obeys my command and rises, her knees planted on the couch on either side of my hips. From this position, I grab the hem of her sweatpants and slide them down her legs. Her hands clutch my shoulders for balance while I unzip my pants and liberate my cock.

I’m hard as a rock, standing straight up in anticipation.

Gripping Nika’s hips, I guide her down onto me. We moan in unison as our foreheads fall together. Her sweet pussy devours me until she’s fully seated in my lap, my cock stuffed inside her all the way to the hilt.

When she tries to adjust, I dig my fingers into her skin. “Wait a second.” She feels so perfect around me that I need a moment to get myself under control.

I battle the urgency flooding my blood as I slowly drag her body along my shaft. She grips my shoulders so she can meet my motions with her own.

My name slips from her sexy mouth, both a curse and a plea. “Darren…”

I understand. We feel right together. This feels right, but it shouldn’t. Nothing can come from this…nothing beyond temporarily sharing carnal pleasure.

I increase our rhythm, pulling her down on my dick harder, faster. Our waists slap together, the percussion filling the room. I’m hypnotized by the obscene noises we create.

“Fuck, Nika.” My eyes find hers, and the exchange stokes a blaze big enough to melt flesh from my bones.

I want to sink into her pussy and stay there forever.

When she starts to move, too, flexing her hips against mine as I thrust inside of her, I fight to keep my eyes on her instead of rolling them back.

With my blood racing and my heart pounding and all my attention on her, this experience is more exhilarating than being in the driver’s seat of a race car.

What is that about?

At some point, I stop moving altogether, and Nika takes over.

She bounces on my cock, tossing her head back as she slides up and down, moaning. Then, she grinds her hips back and forth, riding me while I’m fully inside, her pussy strangling me down to the base?—

“Yeah, like that.” I drop my own head back, my fingertips pushing into the soft skin of her hips. I could come just from this.

Fucking hell, this woman…

“Yes, yes, yes,” she whispers, hot and raw, holding me tighter as she continues to rock forward and back, shifting the foundation of the planet. Right now, I’m nothing short of spellbound.

Because I’ve…

I’ve never let a woman fuck me this way.

The one in control of my sexual encounters, the one who leads these interactions has always been me. I’ve never even let a woman be on top of me before. Not one single time.

And yet, I pulled this woman into my lap like it was the most natural thing in the world, and here we are.

Nika’s fucking me as if I matter to her, like I’m the only man alive. And I can’t get enough. I don’t know how we’ll ever stop until she starts vibrating on top of me, her hips gyrating around my dick. She digs her face into the curve of my neck, where she cries out and spasms.

My arms circle her back, embracing her as her chest slowly stops shuddering.

This time is different from our night in Vegas. Even what happened last night doesn’t compare to this slow, intimate storm that just drenched us. There’s no tension between us, no hidden agendas. I’m completely comfortable and at ease, even though…nothing’s really changed.

Or should I say, almost nothing?

No, our shitty situation hasn’t changed. But maybe we have.

That’s the wild thought in the back of my mind as I maneuver us so we’re horizontal on the couch with her beneath me and still clutching me tight.

Tucking my face into the bend of her beautiful neck, I begin to bury my cock inside her in fluid, leisurely strokes.

I can hardly stand it like this. Her sopping pussy has me in a vice grip.

I groan nonsense into her neck, biting down whenever the sensation grows stronger.

Like the killer in a slasher movie and a hurricane on the water, climax is coming.

Unstoppable.

The pleasure crests and explodes, ripping a guttural noise from deep inside me. I flatten my body against Nika’s while my dick pulses in sharp, euphoric waves.

“Fucking hell,” I groan when I return from the brink.

The warm frothy thing that passes through me can only be called affection.

Even though I still don’t know if I can trust her.