Page 4 of Vengeful Vows

He shakes his head, chuckling to himself as he leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

I listen to the sound of my brother’s retreating footsteps for a moment before I move to kneel in front of Bree, my eyes roaming her body as she stares down at me with nothing but hatred.

“Seems we’re caught in a web, princess,” I murmur, taking a finger and tracing it along her calf.

Fuck. Her skin is even softer than it looks. How is that even possible?

“I’d rather die than marry you,” Bree hisses through her teeth.

“Perhaps.” I’m delighted by the trail of goosebumps my touch leaves on her skin. “But my father is a very demanding man. If a marriage is what he wants, then a marriage is what he gets.”

“I didn’t peg Declan Burke, the Irish scourge himself, as such a pussy.” Bree’s cheeks flush. “Doing what daddy says like a good little boy.”

“I’d watch yourself, princess,” I murmur, trailing my finger up and along her thigh as I snicker at the name.

“The Irish scourge” is a nickname given to me by the Feds, back when they thought they had something on the Burkes. Of course, we’d gotten out of it, like we got out of everything else.

Her body tenses, and I glance up to find her focused on my movements. I smirk as her throat bobs, and a flush creeps along her chest.

“Remember who’s in control right now. I wouldn’t test my patience if I were you. I wouldn’t want to do something I might regret…” My fingers trail higher, teasing her inner thigh.

“You’re the one on your knees for me, Burke.”

“I’m enjoying the view,” I admit, letting my eyes flick down to her chest, the sight of her peaked nipples through the thin silk of her cami making my mouth water.

I can’t deny Bree Murphy is hot as fuck, but that doesn’t mean I want to slide a ring onto her finger and disappear into the sunset.

Bree’s expression turns from one of hatred to disgust as she pulls against the restraints to no avail.

“The only way you can get a woman is by tying her up against her will? You’re pathetic,” she spits.

I wrap my fingers around her perfect neck and squeeze just hard enough that her eyes widen, and her mouth opens in a delightful little O shape.

Damn. The things I could do with that mouth…

“I suggest you keep that pretty little mouth shut,” I snarl, my face barely an inch from hers. A waft of jasmine and vanilla hits my nose, and I bite back a moan.

“Do it,” she gasps.

I squeeze a little tighter, our eyes locked.

“I think I’ll take advantage of our wedding night first,” I threaten before dropping my hand and standing.

“Fuck you!”

“See you at the altar,” I head to the door and yank it open, only to find my younger sister Paige strolling toward me, a scowl on her face.

“What did you do?”

“You’re needed in there.” I jerk a thumb behind me.

She goes to retort but I storm past, not wanting to hear her disapproving comments.

How did I get in so deep?

Kidnapping Bree was meant to send a message to Niall Murphy, a warning not to mess with us. That we are ready for war.

And once he hears I’ve made his daughter my wife? There will be more than just my balls on the line. He’ll come after my fucking head.

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