Page 114 of Sins of Innocence

There's a picture of a very curvy Snow White showing more cleavage than a nineteenth century barmaid in the arms of a muscular, black clad man who looks more like a villain than a prince on the front.

On the back, it says:

Congrats! Here are a few things to help you have fun tonight, you two lovebirds! I expect my bestie to be walking funny tomorrow, Wraith.

E

Ellie is the one person in our party that knows Kieran and I are not lovebirds. She's also the one person in my life that is adamant I need a good dicking, and has been since a year after Troy's death.

Guessing exactly what kind of gift basket she would leave us on our wedding night, heat's already climbing into my cheeks as I pull the ends of the bow holding the cellophane together.

"What's that?" Kieran walks in from the en suite, drying his short hair with a towel.

Wearing nothing but a pair of black boxers, his warrior's body is on mouthwatering display. His chest is covered in a black ink tattoo of a two-headed eagle depicted in the Celtic style, a triskelion in the center of its torso. Under the wing on the right are the words Dílseacht agus Onóir. My Gaeilge isn't great, but I think that means loyalty and honor. Besnikëri dhe Nder is written under the wing on the left.

From what little I know of Kieran, that's probably Albanian for the same thing. The entire tattoo is an acknowledgement of his combined heritage, but there is nothing that might allude to his Italian sperm donor.

He has another tattoo, this one on his right bicep. It's fully Celtic from what I can tell. A claddagh in front of a dirk. The tattoos aren't the only marks on Kieran's body though. Faded scars on skin stretched over defined muscles tell a story of violence and survival.

This man may be a mobster now, but he's always been a warrior.

Kieran tosses the towel and points toward the bed. "What's that?" he asks again.

"Oh, hey." I try for a nonchalance I definitely don't feel. "Uh…it wasn't here when you came in earlier?"

Ellie came into Kieran's bedroom while my husband was in the shower? Why does that make me want to grind my teeth?

Even if this were a real marriage, I wouldn't be jealous of my bestie. She'd never move in on my man. Only that unfamiliar feeling inside feels a lot like a visit from the green-eyed monster.

Kieran shakes his head. "McLaren."

"Who else?" I pull the ribbon ends and it unties, allowing the cellophane to flutter open.

My hand comes to my mouth to stifle nervous laughter, but it burbles out of me. Overflowing with lewdly themed Disney adjacent items, the basket has a giant dildo sticking right up from the center.

A black tag tied on with gold ribbon on the dildo says: A little help with the bibbidi-bobbidi-BOOM.

"The only cock going inside your tight pussy is mine," Kieran growls, grabbing the dildo and tossing it across the room toward the wastebasket.

It lands with a dull thud but I don't bother to see if that was inside the basket or out of it. The intense heat in Kieran's dark eyes has mine trapped.

"You said you'd wait until I was ready," I remind him breathlessly.

He doesn't dial back his sexual dominance one iota. "You're ready."

"I am?" I am. I really, really am.

And that's not just my inner hussy talking. Every tiny molecule in my body is ready to have sex with Kieran.

Not ready to deal with that knowledge I dive back into the basket. There's a bottle of cinnamon flavored lube with a tag that says: Deliciously Dangerous.

Another bottle of silky lube probably meant for use with the dildo Kieran tossed has a tag that says: Make sure it fits.

Oh my.

Kieran takes both bottles of lube from my hands and puts them on the bedside table. Then he picks up a black leather sleep mask with faux fur on one side. "Sweet dreams, dark schemes?" he asks.

"Uh…" I've got nothing.