“No, you’re not.”
I whirl around to find Ronan leaning against the doorframe. His expression is calm, but the kind that precedes a storm.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. You’re not going anywhere. Right now, we’re all a target, so the last thing you’re doing is leaving the safety of this house.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “I grew up in this world too, remember? I’ve been dodging bullets longer than you’ve known me.”
The muscle in Ronan’s jaw ticks. “You’re my wife. And I’m going to do whatever I have to in order to keep you safe.”
“And that includes keeping me prisoner? But as I look up into Ronan’s eyes and see that dark possessive glint in them, my knees start to tremble. He looks…dangerous.
While it pisses me off that he treats me like a frail damsel that he needs to protect, it also does something else to me.
My stomach flutters as he crosses over to me, forcing me to back up against the wall.
I catch a whiff of his aftershave, of the rich musky scent, and swallow a groan.
Why does he have to be so impossibly sexy when he’s being an overbearing asshole?
I open my mouth to argue with him, but his hand is on me in an instant, his fingers curled tight around my chin, tilting my face up so I’m forced to look at him.
His grip is just tight enough to send a shiver of pleasure down my spine. “No more arguing.”
The room goes quiet except for the sounds of our breathing.
Ronan stares at me like he’s daring me to push back, like hewantsme to, but for once, I don’t fight him. Not because I don’twant to, but because the way he’s touching me, the way his body crowds mine, all I can think about is how much I want him.
As the ache starts to build between my thighs, I grab hold of Ronan’s shirt and pull him against me.
A look of surprise flashes across his face, but then his lips are on mine, and he’s backing me up against the wall and forcing my thighs apart with his own.
“Do you need to be reminded of who’s in charge, is that it,Tine Bheag?” he growls against my mouth.
His words have me whimpering as my clit starts to throb.
I swear, these pregnancy hormones have me practically feral with need, and I start aggressively tugging at Ronan’s shirt.
But Ronan takes me by the wrists and pins my hands above my head. “I’m going to take that as a yes.”
Smirking, he moves to pin my wrists with one hand as the other moves to unbutton my pants.
My body moves of its own accord, writhing beneath his touch as the ache between my legs becomes almost unbearable.
“Please…” I try to grind against him, but he moves just far enough out of reach that I can’t seek the friction I desperately need.
His lips travel along my jaw. “I’m not going to give you what you want.”
“Asshole.”
He chuckles before biting down on my neck.
The sting of pain mixed with my arousal has me growing slick between my thighs.
I moan as Ronan’s fingers trail along the skin of my lower belly, but he still refuses to give me what I need.
He licks the line of my ear. “Are you going to do as you’re told?”
