Page 92 of Brutal Savage

“My ex. He’s taken a lot away from me.”

His eyes turn to slits, quiet rage within them.

“I’m sorry he hurt you. I’ll make him pay. I promise, Elara.” His thumb gently strokes the underside of my jaw.

My gut swirls with emotions, with nerves he put there.

I grab his wrist. “Thanks for saying that, but I’d rather he never found me. I don’t want anyone else getting hurt.”

A yawn escapes me.

“How about we get some rest? It’s late.” He lifts the covers for me and I slide in.

“Which side do you sleep on?” I ask.

“The one closer to the door.”

He starts to remove his shoes, placing them in the closet, unbuttoning his shirt next, until he’s pulling the sleeves off. The sight of shirtless Tynan is making me thankful I’m already in bed. My thighs squeeze into one another when his solid eight-pack of muscles jerks at the attention I give it.

I glance at the window, and he lets out a chuckle.

“No, please, keep looking. I like your eyes on me.”

“I wasn’t looking. I mean, I was, but not in that way.”

He chuckles. “You’re cute when you lie.”

Swallowing thickly, I return to ogling my husband, and the outline of his thick cock is hard to miss.

Okay, we definitely have a problem.

How am I supposed to share a bed with this man and pretend I won’t let him fuck me? And the more I look at him, the more I accept that fate. I mean, sleeping with him wouldn’t be the worst idea. I have an itch to scratch, and he’s a very willing participant.

But he wants to get you pregnant, you idiot.

Right. Okay. Maybe I forgot about that part.

He rummages through his dresser drawer, then he’s tossing a white t-shirt at me. “Put this on.”

I pick it up and give him a puzzling look. “I’m already in my PJs.”

“And as adorable as they are, I want you in my clothes moving forward. And make sure you’re not wearing anything underneath.”

Nerves skitter up my throat. “Um…”

He starts toward me, his knuckles falling across the side of my throat. “I’ll never force you, if that’s what you’re afraid of. But I think it’s good for us to start getting comfortable with one another, don’t you?”

No. I prefer to keep my distance.

“I’ll go change in the bathroom.”

He releases me, and I feel bare without his touch.

Rushing up, I enter the bathroom and drag in a long, shallow breath, my pulse skipping in my throat. I married the head of the Mob. I’m a mobster’s wife now. That’s going to take quite some time to sink in.

Maybe this will scare Jerry and his father. Maybe they’ll avoid a war with the Quinns once they find out I married him. Or maybe they’ll get cocky and think they can take on the Mob. Isaac always thought highly of himself, and so did his son.

Running away is probably the best option.

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