Page 22 of My Irish Mafia King

He clenches his fists, his forearms swelling with muscle, his chest seeming to expand. He’s never looked so powerful, never looked so intimidating. The morning sunlight shafts through the window against his pale hair, seeming to form a crown of light.

I’m not dealing with the restaurateur anymore. I’m dealing with the mafia prince.

“No?” he snaps.

“You heard me.” I fold my arms. His gaze flits to my neck... to the place where the pendant normally sits. He looks hurt by its absence. “Before Mom passed, I promised her I wouldn’t let the mob ruin her business. That’s a promise I intend to keep. I’m not running from them.”

“Lucy...” He takes my hands, holds them tightly. “Be reasonable. I can’t let you stay here.”

“It’s not your place toletme do anything,” I tell him. “Unless you’re going to kidnap me – traffic me...”

He groans and wraps his arms around me, pulling me against him. His heat pushes through his shirt and presses against me, every inch of me warming. “If I had any clue what Shane was doing to you, I would’ve put a bullet in his head months ago. If I knew about that other crap, I would’ve torn the whole Family down when I had the chance.”

“So you won’t force me to leave, then?”

He leans down, our faces so close that his warm breath shivers over me. Somehow, my hands find their way to his shoulders, gripping tightly as if he can save me... again.

“It’s for your own good,” he says. “If something happened to you, I couldn’t forgive myself.”

“Why? We’re strangers.”

“Is that really what you think?” he whispers. “You haven’t felt like a stranger since the moment I walked in here…”

I place my hand on his chest as he leans in further, knowing where this is going, both wanting it and being terrified by the idea.

“What you did to Shane… have you done it to others?”

“Yes,” he snarls.

“Is that the real you, then?”

“Thisis the real me. This is what I really want.”

Months of pent-up tension erupt when he crashes his lips against mine. For a moment, everything else disappears, stops mattering. Stops existing, even. I open my mouth to taste him, my tongue finding his. He groans and pushes me against the counter, his manhood thick and hard against my belly.

I move my hands from his shoulders to his neck, digging my nails in. “What are you doing?” I gasp.

“What I’ve wanted to do since the day I walked into the Crust,” he moans.

“You think kissing me will make me want to leave?”

“I’m not thinking anything right now,” he growls, kissing me again.

I wrap my arms around him as he lifts me off my feet and places me on the counter. He presses his groin against mine, and something melts inside me. All the tension drains into the blistering warmth of what we’re doing. My hips move as if they have a mind of their own, like I’m chasing the end of a rainbow and pleasure is the pot of gold.

He gasps, slipping his hand to my back, under my shirt, pressing his palm against my bare skin where it simmers like it belongs.

“Stop,” I whisper. “What if somebody sees?”

He takes a shaky step back, his lips red, his eyes wild. “I’ll take you somewhere nobody will see…”

“No,” I say fiercely, going against my instincts, my desires. “You don’t get to turn my world upside down and then give me everything I’ve wanted for…”

“Tá tú chomh hálainn le réaltóg,”he says, his voice lilting. “That means you’re as beautiful as a star, Lucy. Because it’s true… you drew me here with your light. Admit it; you’ve wanted this since I walked in here half a year ago. Just like I have. But I fought it with every fiber of my being. I fought it because I knew you were better than me… youdeservedbetter than me.”

I gasp when he pulls me away from the counter and cradles me in his arms, carrying me as though I weigh nothing. Holding me tight, he carries me into the backroom.

He pushes me against the wall. I wrap my arms around him, knowing I need to stop this, knowing I’m giving him the wrong idea. But I’ve thought about this countless times, imagined what it would feel like for him to push against me with lust swelling in his rock-hard body.

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