16
ROBBIE
The kitchen is busy, but thankfully not hectic; we are short staffed today since a gastro bug has been making its way through the team, so I’ve placed myself in the kitchen to help out. I grab some vegetables and start dicing them, focusing on creating uniform pieces. The sound of the knife hitting the cutting board at a steady rhythm, blends with the sizzling of pans and the occasional chatter among the chefs.
I’m quick with a blade. Working here throughout the years has taught me a thing or two. For vegetables and meat, I’m fucking lethal, however, I never had the stomach to carve human flesh, unlike my brother. That side of the business is strictly Aiden’s.
Speaking of, he’s been uncharacteristically quiet this week.
I’ve heard from him twice; once was a short text to confirm that he’s still alive. The second was a quick phone call to let me know he wouldn’t be coming into work for a while. I can’t help but wonder what could be going on with him. Aiden hasn’t missed a day of work since Éabha’s trial almost ten years agoI hope everything is okay with him.
“Robbie!”
I turn around to see Simon, the security guard for the bar, coming up behind me with a concerned look on his face. “We have a problem.”
Placing the knife down, I wipe my hands on my apron and turn to face Simon fully. “Spike?”
“No, worse. I can’t get hold of AJ.”
We walk towards the doors of the bar and I peek out, spotting them just as Simon adds, “Walsh’s men are here. They’re looking for AJ.” He glances over his shoulder, dropping his voice to a whisper, “they’re armed.”
“Shit,” sure enough, I catch the fat one’s gaze. He grins, pulling back his coat enough to reveal the glint of a gun tucked into his waistband. “Megashit.” Pulling my phone from my pocket, I dial Aiden’s private number and pray to every deity I can think of that he answers.
* * *
AIDEN
I’ve never wanted to touch someone so much in my life. I’ve never been so tempted to taste them. I’ve never had my cock throb so much that it fucking hurts. But right now, with my bug showing me exactly how she likes to be touched, all I want to do is bury my head between her legs and make her scream my name.
“That’s it, baby.” I crawl down the bed, wanting the fullshow of her pleasure. “Show me how you like it.” My lips press against her inner thigh, my tongue teasingly tracing circles as I eagerly await her response.
She moans.
She likes it.
I’m going to fucking burst.
I didn’t touch her yesterday or the day before that, and I wasn’t allowed to even watch her the day before that. Not like this. She hid her body under the blanket, and I could only see the movements of her hips and the way she arched her back.
This was my idea. I’m not deluded enough to think that I can change the trauma her body has suffered from years of sexual abuse, but I want to create a safe and pleasurable space for her to explore her desires and reclaim her sexuality. I’m building trust. I slowly add my own touch to our intimate encounters, ensuring that she feels in control and respected every step of the way.
Even if my balls are as blue as a smurf and I’m craving the taste of her sweetness, I ache to feel her walls tighten around me, and I will, eventually. Right now, my sole focus is on Katie and she’s driving me wild.
Her glistening fingers have my full attention, and I want nothing more than to suck them into my mouth, savouring the taste of her desire.
Her whimpers and moans would bring me to my knees if I wasn’t already on them. I need to touch her. I need her juices coating my tongue and her body trembling beneath my touch. Every nerve in my body is on fire, yearning for the moment when our bodies finally collide and I can coat her walls with every drop of my seed, branding her as mine.
“Fuck, Katie,” I growl, precum spilling from the tip of mythrobbing cock, sticking to my boxers as I watch two fingers slide in a V between her glistening folds, then dip inside her.
She’s close; I can see the desperation in her eyes as she bites down on her lip, trying to hold back her release.
I nudge her legs apart as they attempt to close, my hands gripping her thighs. I’ve got a front-row seat to this, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to miss it. “Chase it, baby. Claim it.” My hands slide up her thighs, tracing the path of her trembling body. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
Her head rocks back as a low moan escapes her lips. “Aiden…”
That’s the first time she’s called my name in the heat of the moment. Is that permission? Can I touch her?
One word, and I swear to Christ, I will devour her like a starving man.
