1
Kerry
I’m losing her. Just when I thought I had her.
Astero is cancelling my arranged marriage with Amy. Just when we were getting somewhere. My chest feels tight, my head buzzing with a myriad of emotions and the start of a headache. The bloody bastard thinks he can get away with this? As if I’m not called the Irish Demon? As if Kerry Alasdair doesn’t get what he wants?
My little leannán is looking up at me like it’s been revealed I’ve been a predator all along and now I’m on the hunt. Like our marriage arrangement was the only thing keeping me from hurting her. Like all of the sweet confessions that spilled from my lips just moments ago were all hinging on me getting the docks.
And that pisses me off even more.
Amy stands up slowly, like she’s trying not to scare a wild animal. Her brows are pinched, and she looks just as pale as she did after her blasted grandfather made her sit through his little torture session. “I-I can go. You want me to go, right? I’ll leave.” She turns to go, scrambling towards the door like I’m holding her at gunpoint instead of just looking at her.
My long legs eat up the distance she puts between us, and I wrap my hand around her arm, yanking her back towards me. The shriek she lets out makes me feel sick, but I don’t stop myself from holding her close.I can’t.
“Please, I don’t know what my grandfather is thinking, but I’m not part of it, I swear! You’ve seen how he keeps everything from me!”
“Amy.” My voice sounds so much deeper in contrast to her shrill, panicked voice. It also sounds deceptively calmer than how I feel, only a bit of fire to it, hinting at my true feelings.
She ignores me and continues rattling on. “I didn’t want anything to do with this world, I hate it! I’m innocent in all of this, you must know. Please, care that I’m innocent in this, please,please.”
“Amy.”
“I don’t want to be enemies with you!” She cries out, and I can’t help but soften at the genuine emotion in her voice. Not just fear, but also some level of anguish. The realization that she feels something for me and is mourning what she felt we had feels like a miracle.
I grab her chin, my touch barely more than a light caress, and make her look at me. “Then let’s not be enemies, leannán.”
The fear in her eyes slowly dissipates as she finally looks up at me. “Kerry…?” My name slips from her lips like I’m a ghost of the man she loves and who she just saw a glimpse of through the veil of the beyond.
It propels me to show her I’m still flesh and blood. My lips crash against hers, desperate to taste her after hearing her call me Kerry for the first time. She gasps into the kiss, and I slide my tongue into her mouth at the opportunity she’s handed me. Her fingers dig into my arms, pulling me closer, and I’m all too happy to oblige her. My hands fit against her hips, gliding along her sides, drinking in the feel of her that I’ve been cravingsince the first day we met. She tastes so sweet, just like I knew she would. Her little breathy gasps heat my blood until my cock is standing at full attention, needing her like I’ve never needed anything before.
She pulls away to take a breath, dodging me when I try to chase after her lips again, not ready to be done after getting my first taste of her. “W-wait, wait! You’re not mad?”
“Mad for you, perhaps,” I respond through labored breaths before kissing her again.
She indulges me for another moment before pulling away again, making me growl in frustration. “But you said the wedding is off. You won’t get the docks, which is the whole point of this.” She gestures between us, and I scoff.
I grab her hand, pulling her towards the dining table that sits before the expansive view of the city. There’s neatly stacked manilla folders on its surface, and I grab the top one, flinging it open. Dozens of pictures of her from over the years I’ve been observing her come spilling out across the tabletop. The gasp that comes from her lips makes me feel invigorated.
“You think I only give a damn about the docks, Amy? You think this is purelybusiness?You think I got on my knees before you because I wantedmoney?Fuck money. I have loads of it. Fuck power. I’ve had my fill of it. But you? I’ll never have enough ofyou.Five. Fucking. Years. Of desperation. Of self-control. Of careful planning. Of a chasm of yearning in my chest splitting me open. I won’t have all of my care undone by a pathetic little man throwing a temper tantrum.”
She stares at the photos and then back at me, before repeating the process over again.Good. Let her see. Let her understand who I am and exactly what I feel for her.“I…this is…not about the docks?”
My heart hammers in my chest as I stare at her for a long moment, trying to figure out how to express the mania of myneed for her. I do the only thing I can think of, and drop to my knees in front of her again, tugging on her hips and mouthing kisses to her stomach through her shirt.
She’s looking down at me like I’m crazy, and I don’t give a damn. I know I am. “Amy, sweet Amy, what can I do to make you understand? For you to see how mad I am for you? How far I’ll go just to hold you in my arms? How I would wrench down the moon just so I can see you bathed in its silvery light? The docks are nothing, not in the long run. The docks were anexcuse.They were what I needed to get you, the silly thing everyoneexpectedme to want. But you? You are so much more than the world I live in could ever give me.”
I feel almost high when I feel her fingers run through my hair, my cheek pressed against the softness of her stomach, her fingernails scraping deliciously against my scalp and making my cock twitch in my trousers. “I…what should we do then?” I can tell her voice is strained, that seeing me like this is somewhat overwhelming for her.
I can’t say I blame her. This ravenous need for her in my chest overwhelms me as well, turning me into a man out of control when I’m usually the opposite.
But this craving, this desire, thishungerfor her overrides any sense of sensibility, my desperate need for control, any pride I might be feeling. It consumes me until all I can think of is her, until my lungs only want to breathe in the scent of her, until my mind chantsI want her, I want her, I want her…
I glance up at her from where my face is pressed against her abdomen, her eyes darting around my face, lips parted, cheeks beautifully flushed. “What do you want to do, my leannán?” I barely recognize my own voice, gravelly with an unfamiliar whine to it. “Because I know what I still want. What I’ve always wanted.”
“And what’s that?” She whispers it, like she already knows the answer but still has to ask.
“You. In my arms. In my bed. With my ring on your finger.”
