Pulling back from her, I take her in. She looks as good as she did the last time I saw her—other than being a little too thin for my liking. Licking my lips, I want to play, but first I need to get down to business. I can playwith my prey later.
"I have a proposition for you," I whisper against her skin, finally giving a small hint to why I’m here.
"No," she says cutting me off, not allowing me to explain myself.
"Tsk, tsk. Now, princess, you haven't even heard what I have to offer," I scold her.
Shaking her head, she looks at me with anger filled eyes while she sneers, "I don't care. I'm not interested."
She tries to move away from me, but before she can get too far, I grab her wrist and pull her into my chest. Both of our hearts pound against each other so loud I can feel it in my ears.
"Come on, princess, don't be hasty. You'll want to hear what I have to say."
"Kieran," she whispers. My name on her lips brings me back to the last time we were together. The night I bought her at the auction, the one owned by that swine, Mikhail, theBratva heir.
Months later came the night my Da told me I still had to get married, no matter what, in order to take my rightful place. Only this time, I could pick the bride. It was the only reprieve he would give me, after talking with the other families in Ireland. They all agreed the marriage would be better if it appeared to be love.
“Our people will stand behind a new king, if he has the support of a significant other. And since I would like to retire soon, you need to find a wife.” His words ring through my head.
At that moment I knew exactly who I would choose. Not just because she's beautiful, but because she is strong, and won't take any shit but knows when she needs to bend to my will. It makes her the perfect person to stand by my side while I make the Irish Mafia the strongest it has ever been.
My jaw clenches, the anger I felt, rearing it’s ugly head, just remembering when I was told that she was gone. Every momentthat passed, made me angrier and angrier, needing to punish her. She took up so much of my mind, and now it’s two years later, and she still haunts me.
But I have a plan. I figured I’d use the requirement of marriage as an opportunity to tie Mia to me. Since I have the best men at my disposal, I found her quickly. Though it was harder than it should've been because she kept moving.
I grip her neck, not allowing her to move, her pulse jumping wildly beneath my fingers. I expect her to beg or try to escape, but she doesn't. She obeys my silent demands because her body knows who she belongs to, remembering my touch, even if her mind refuses. My gaze goes straight to her pillowy pink lips, the need to feel them against mine, to taste her, is burning within me. Not being able to help myself, I lean down and brush my lips against hers.
She whimpers at the touch, and I take it one step further, placing my lips firmlyagainst hers, licking my tongue against her mouth as I demand entrance. At first, she refuses, keeping them in a tight line as she tries to hold strong against me. But I know this act of defiance is just the stubbornness in her and she will eventually fold.
As predicted, a few minutes later, she opens herself up to me. Taking advantage, I plunge my tongue into her mouth. When I get the taste of her cinnamon gum, I groan. That's what she'd tasted that night, too. And cinnamon is my favorite.
My other hand roams over her body, wanting to touch every bit of skin that I can reach. The moment I get to her panties, her hands go to my chest, and she pushes me away. I allow her this time, letting her think she has some control. The movement stops our kiss, tears falling down her cheeks. "I can't give myself to you again. Please don't make me," she mutters.
Laying my forehead on hers, I mumble, "Why?"
"He won't let me." That response has me stiffening. What the fuck? Who would dare to tell her what she can and can't do? The only person who can demand anything from her isme.
"Who is he?" I demand.
eight
Mia
Kieran's body tenses with my words and his voice drops into a menacing tone as he demands, "Who is he?"
The dangerous tone sends a shiver down my spine. I need to get away from him. Not only can I not think straight, but he can ruin me and I've learned the hard way that I don't want to be involved with men like him. The night my mother told me his true identity, I knew I had to stay away from him—Kieran’s bad news. Even if Mikhail hadn't warned me to stay away from anything that has to do with his business or the city he lives in, I still would’ve stayed away.
I shake my head. "I'm not telling you." I can't tell him, because who knowswhat he'll do.
"Mo bhanphrionsa, you will tell me exactly what I want to know, and if you don't, I'll have to find out myself."
Goosebumps pebble all over my skin when he uses his nickname for me. The last time I’d heard it was the night we spent together in bed, and it's as if my body remembers what it was like to be his, even though my brain is yelling at me to stay strong. I steel my spine as I spit out, "Leave it, Kieran. It's for the best that I stay away."
He reaches for me and grips my waist, looking deep into my eyes, searching for something. I don't like it. It feels like he can see the real me, instead of the mask that I show everyone else.
Needing to look away, I try to turn my head to break eye contact from him, to help reinforce my walls. Using his other hand, he grips my neck, not allowing me to move.
"Mia, I need you to tell me who you're afraid of."
