Page 51

It’s my turn to suck in a breath. The word fuck from Brioni’s lips goes straight to my cock. I’ve never heard her swear like that, at least not sober. And though her brown eyes are glazed with lust, she’s obviously not drunk.

And the words fuck me, Liam are clear as day.

My heart is racing, but I stand up slowly. In my hurry to get changed into my suit, I didn’t bother to put on a belt. So I take my time with my button, my zipper, my boxer briefs. I even take off my shoes. Giving Brioni time to reconsider. I don’t want her to reconsider. But I don’t understand what’s changed, either.

Her bottom lip shines as she pants up at me. We’re staring hard at each other. This isn’t me taking her from behind. That must be the key. I’m standing between her open thighs, my cock like iron. I’m about to lose control.

“Please,” she whimpers.

I glance down between us. She’s so wet she’s dripping—evidence of her need for me is leaking from her pussy. Her body begs me silently, and that’s just as intense as when she begged me out loud. I take my shaft in my hand, rubbing the head of my cock along her wetness. When I nudge my tip into her entrance, she gasps, her knees spasming together reflexively.

I wait for them to fall open again. Then I clamp my hands to her inner thighs, keeping her spread wide for me. I won’t fuck her from behind, but I’m going to do this my way. She feels too fucking good for me to be tender or in control. Even with the barest tip of me inside her, she’s so goddamn tight that she’s squeezing me hard. I don’t hold back any longer. I shove myself deep.

She cries out at the force of me, her legs trying to spasm together again. I grip her inner thighs harder—a reminder of my strength, the muscles she was so desperate to see. As I pull myself halfway out, she arches her back, like she’s trying to give me the perfect angle. But it’s not the angle I want.

I splay one hand on her firm stomach and push her back down to the desk. With my other hand spreading her wide, I slam back into her. She bucks with the impact, screaming again, my name this time. Keeping her pinned to my desk, I start pumping. Her pussy’s so fucking tight she’s squeezing me like a fist, and she’s so goddamn wet I’m more lubed with each thrust.

I fuck her so hard she starts to inch up the desk. As I yank her back to the edge, I sling one of her long legs up to my shoulder. She’s still got her heels on, and it’s the fucking hottest sight yet. I kiss her smooth leg before sliding my grip back down, both my hands keeping her hips where I want them.

I slam into her again and again, and all the while she’s screaming my name. With her leg on my shoulder, I lean forward, knowing how flexible my Brioni is. I reach for her mouth and shove my thumb between her lips. She licks it eagerly, her tongue swirling before I pull it away.

When I stand back up, I drift my thumb to her clit, my other hand on her stomach to keep her pressed to the desk. She writhes as much as she can, and the motion of her on my cock nearly sends me over the edge. I focus myself by rubbing circles on her clit. Steadily, I increase my pressure, and her pussy starts clenching around me.

She tips her head back in ecstasy, screaming that she’s coming, and that’s when I let myself go. When I fully lose myself in this woman. We spasm together as I pump her full of my come, and Brioni thrashes on my desk with aftershocks.

We stay there as our chests heave, and I keep my grip tight on her leg as I hold it against my chest. Mine.

“Liam…” she says, spent.

With no breath to speak, I raise an eyebrow at her. But by the way she looks up at me, I don’t think she was trying to say anything else. She just likes saying my name. Saying and moaning and screaming my name. Telling the world who she belongs to.

Chapter 25

Brioni

I lurch Cora’s car through the empty parking lot of a suburban high school. This early on a Saturday, the expanse of asphalt is deserted. A late-autumn morning mist hovers like an unbroken cloud ten feet above us. Between that and the hard pavement, our lone red car feels smushed between two enormous dark plates.

Beside me, Cora jerks dramatically in the passenger seat, laughing every time she’s thrown against her seatbelt. And in the back, Gus scowls at both of us, wholly unamused. It took days of pleading before he finally agreed to our plan, and he’s still making it very clear he’s not happy about it.

“Why’d you start her on a stick?” he asks Cora, as if I’m not here.

“It’s like swinging with a practice bat,” she says to both of us. “You master this, then automatic’s a walk in the park. Besides,” she adds, turning to face Gus with a flip of her glossy brown hair, “you never know when the car you need to boost just so happens to be a manual.”

She says it cheerfully, but I feel my face go white. I don’t want to steal anything, certainly not someone else’s car. The fact that I’m driving without a license is bad enough, even if I’m only in a parking lot. Apart from underage drinking, this is the most illegal thing I’ve ever done.

The worst part is, there’s a certain little thrill to knowing that what I’m doing isn’t legal. But I do my best to ignore it, stomping it out as I stomp down on the clutch.

“She doesn’t need to be boosting cars,” Gus grumbles. “Doesn’t need to be driving either.”

For the first time, I worry that Gus, my guard and driver, might be offended by the fact that I want to learn to drive. But I tell myself that’s ridiculous. Biting my lip, I downshift shakily to turn at the end of the marked row. Gus doesn’t care. I don’t think Cora cares, either. With the O’Sullivan name, she could go to any tailor on the South Side and get alterations for free. She’s doing this to help me in this silly little quest of mine.

Because for some reason, I’ve convinced myself that driving is a way to make myself useful.

I want so badly to be useful because of my skills, my strengths. I want to have mafia skills, anything that could possibly help Liam with his endless responsibilities. If that’s driving, because business takes us out of the city, or simply because his men need help moving their fleet of cars, I want to be someone he calls on. I don’t want to be known for my weaknesses, and I don’t want to be weakness.

I don’t want to be Liam’s weakness.

I know that’s what he was implying in his office.