Page 112 of Sinister Intentions

Matt chuckled. “Someone’s gotta keep your ego in check,” Matt quipped, a knowing grin tugging at his lips. “Though I gotta say, I never thought I’d see the day…the great Vince Salvini…meeting his match—in the form of a little Irish girl.”

I narrowed my eyes and growled. “Woman.”

He bowed his head in acknowledgment.

But who was I kidding? The fact remained that Jemma was almost eleven years younger than me. And barely a woman.

I sighed, then rubbed my neck. “But yeah, she’s been a surprise,” I admitted grudgingly. The unfamiliar vulnerability left a bitter taste on my tongue. Who would’ve thought I’d fall for a punk, who gave me shit constantly?

Maybe I had some kind of masochistic tendencies I hadn’t yet explored.

Images of Jemma sprawled across my lap naked, with my hand covering her ass, appeared before my inner eye. How would it feel to spank her? How would she take it? Would she love the heightened sensory experience of sexual desire a well-timed spanking could give her? Would she be a bratty sub, or would she become more dominant with experience? Would she be timid exploring the expanses of this world or embrace it wholeheartedly?

I couldn’t wait to find out. Couldn’t wait to introduce her to everything.

I shook my head.

Just the way she occupied my mind was a weakness I couldn’t afford—not in my cut-throat world.

But damn it if I didn’t welcome it. Wanted it. Craved it.

And I would make it work.

Jemma…keeping her by my side was a risk I was willing to take.

Even if it meant going to war with Ivan Zotov himself. I’d annihilate anyone who posed a threat to my fierce, impossible, utterly captivating future wife.

I’d fight like hell to protect what was mine. No matter the cost.

And Jemma Donnelly was mine.

“Just get me that meeting,” I growled. “It’s time to show Zotov what happens when he fucks with a Salvini. And Matt,” I walked up to him and grabbed his shoulder.

Matt nodded solemnly. “She’s one of ours. I got it. We will all make sure she’s safe and protected.”

All traces of humor had vanished. He understood. That was the magical connection I’d had with all of my brothers. Somehow, we understood each other—very few words, if any, were necessary.

Matt grinned again. “Can I be there when you tell Craig Donnelly, though?”

I scowled at him again. “Fuck off, asshole.”

His chuckle followed me when I stepped outside.

“You better talk to your future father-in-law soon. I heard he can be quite impulsive and violent with his daughters’ suitors.”

I flipped him the bird but was immediately transported back to when Gabe went to Donnelly when he finally decided to get Sophie back.

Donnelly had been furious when he’d found out about Sophie’s pregnancy and the fact that Gabe was the father.

And here I was, having unprotected sex with Donnelly’s youngest daughter. Apparently, even though we were distant cousins, stupidity ran in the family.

At least regarding Donnelly, I had the upper hand. And I had no intention of waiting beyond today to tell Donnelly I was the one marrying Jemma. “Trust me,” I replied, my voice laced with determination. “I have no intention of waiting…or being scared.”

I crossed the deck to the surround sound of Matt’s cackle.

I would bet my life he was pulling out his phone right now and broadcasting this newest development all over our group chat. Little annoying asshole.

I rounded the corner.

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