Page 121 of Mob Bride

Instead, I press her backwards on the seat. I start with her forehead and kiss my way down the entire length of her body. All the way down her arms to each fingertip. Down her legs to the top of her foot which she twitches.

I realize she’s ticklish. I run my thumbnail up the arch of each foot, and she squirms.

“I will tuck that little nugget away from later,cailín.”

“I’m sure you will, Daddy. Another divine way to torture me.”

“Maybe.” I waggle my eyebrows at her, and she laughs.

Oh, how I love the sound of it. I haven’t heard it nearly often enough, but it’s smoother than the finest bourbon, richer than the finest wine.

It goes straight to my balls and makes them ache, but I’m not ready to fuck her yet. Otherwise, this will be over way too soon. I’d embarrass myself because I’d barely be inside her before I came. I need time to calm my dick down, so I feast on her. I lick her from stem to stern. I press my tongue into her pussy, flickingit back and forth until she’s writhing on the seat, trying to press my head closer to her. I pull away and shoot her a warning glare. She immediately puts her hands over her head and tucks them to hold on to the edge of the seat.

“Good girl.”

The happiness I see when I say that makes me want to find a reason to say it every day for the rest of our lives.

I go back to what I was doing, and she squirms again. Not because she’s ticklish. This is for a different reason. It’s because she’s fighting not to come without my permission. I sense she’s nearing frustration rather than enjoying the edging.

“Daddy, may I come? I really need to.”

There’s a tremble to her voice. I shift up to rest my elbows just above her shoulders. Her legs open even wider to accommodate my hips between them. Then I’m inside her.

Thank God.

We laugh when we sigh at the same time. An instant later, we’re kissing. She draws back at first, not liking the taste of herself, but it doesn’t stop her. There’s nothing to say with words right now. We say it all with our bodies.

We’re saying what we should have before she proposed. What we should say before “I do.” But neither of us is ready for that. Are either of us ready for marriage?

Chapter Twenty-Four

Carrie

I’m breathless as I stare up at Shane. I sweep my gaze down the length of his body to where his joins with mine. I release the seat and tentatively run my hands up his ribs to his pecs. He balances on his left forearm as his right hand captures mine over his heart. We watch each other, neither knowing what to say.

When the car stops, and we feel it shift into park, we sit up. I peer through the window and realize two things. We’ve been in the car longer than I thought. We’re outside the Greenwich courthouse. Shane notices at the same time I do because we’re soon scrambling to get our clothes back on. I see everyone gathering on the steps, and my parents are there too.

Holy fuck.

We just pulled up to our wedding.

I glance down at my clothes. I’m in Shane’s—Sean’s—shorts and t shirt. The same ones I wore while my colleagues mocked me and sneered.

How shortsighted. How narcissistic.

If they believe I’m involved with Shane, then they should’ve thought twice about how they treated me. Even if he doesnothing to any of them, they should have a healthier fear of his family. I worried about him while we were apart. My reasonable mind knew they’d never do anything to him in that building. At least not with Dillan in the room with him and Cormac and Seamus in the ones next door. But that didn’t stop my worry.

It made me think about how far I’d go to defend him. I realized with what I’ve learned about the people in that building as well as how the agency works and how criminals get caught, I know how to get away with a shit ton of shit. As we get out of the car and join our families, I sweep my gaze over them, too. I’m already aware I’m protective of Mom and Dad because they’re my parents, but I’ve felt a new sense of defensiveness since hearing the NYPD approached them.

I recognize Breda and Ronan, but there are two women who look like mirrors of my future mother-in-law, and two men who mirror my future father-in-law.

“Your family genetics are unbelievable. Like, you should be in science textbooks.” I keep my voice down, but Shane laughs hard enough that I swat at his ribs.

“Easy,cailín. I laugh because the other women have said things similar to that.”

I don’t know who the women not related to Shane’s mom and aunts are, but there are four closer to my age. I assume they’re my soon-to-be sisters-in-law and cousins-in-law. I feel out of place at my own wedding. I know my clothes shouldn’t matter, but they do. I look down at my rumpled outfit and try not to wince.

“Carys?” It’s Saoirse—Cormac and Seamus’s mom—who steps forward.

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