Page 32 of Bartered Innocence

Rian drops my legs draping his body over me as his hands cup the back of my head and his mouth devours mine. I moan into his kiss, matching the rock of his hips as he fills me deeply with his cock. He kisses down my jaw, breathing into my ear.

“I’m yours, you’re mine. I’m going to pump you so full of my cum that I’ll plant multiple babies in you,” he groans.

I shudder. I hadn’t given any real thought to having his children. I opt to push it away as a tomorrow problem, like everything else to do with this wedding. Butit’s possible I’ll get pregnant now that I know he’s going to come inside meagain, and I’m not put off by the idea as much as I probably should be.

Chapter13

Rian

Ignoringthe curses coming from my now-christened wife, I shut the door with a soft snick. Exhausted satisfaction aches in my bones, wanting to turn around and lie in bed with her instead. I know it wouldn’t be soft cuddles, more like mutual tiredness from the multiple rounds I put her through. I’ve never experienced anything like that before, but I’ve come to enjoy her sharp tongue more than anything.

Cillian is waiting across the hall, leaning against the wall with crossed arms.

I pause, narrowing my eyes. “I’ll stab you if you were listening.”

His lips curl into a mocking smirk. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

Aodhan appears next to us, slipping out from one of the rooms unnoticed. My gaze turns to him and he nods. “Found him. Cormac is already on location.”

“Good, let’s go.” I tuck the rest of my shirt in and take the gun Aodhan holds out for me. Placing it in my waistband at my back, I glance at Cillian. He is the most gruesome of us all, my bloodiest of enforcers, but he has the softest heart, even if he seeks affection in all the worst places.

His jaw tics, annoyance flickering across his face. “I got her.”

My eyebrows raise. “I trust you with her life. I just don’t trust you to not fall in love with her.”

He snorts, his tattooed fingers coming up to rub at his lips. “Sure thing, Boss. No falling in love with your lady. Got it.”

Any other time I would be annoyed with his teasing, but I don’t want to waste time. Aodhan falls into step with me as we take the back stairwell to the parking garage.

“He seemed easy enough to find.”

I nod, thinking the same. “He wanted to be. If there’s one thing those Outfit fuckers excel at, it’s getting out of situations they don’t want to be in.”

We head out the back exit in the stairwell far away from any guests staying in the hotel, and Luca’s prying eyes. Declan has the cameras looping until we’re off the property so that security isn’t alerted about anyone leaving if the Famiglia happens to be watching.

“Where’s he at?” I ask when we get into the car.

Aodhan hands over his phone, showing off the location, and I frown.

“He didn’t stay in Manhattan? He’s halfway to Jersey.”

“I assume it’s to show who he’d be more inclined to ally with.”

I text Cillian where we’re headed and tell him to call immediately if there are any emergencies. “I can’t speak for the Italians, but he’s a dumbfuck if he thinks either of us want to align with the Outfit. Those crazy fucks put the rest of us to shame.”

Aodhan snickers. “Maybe not the Camorra. But they are fun to watch, the way they circle jerk the agencies around. Government so pent up to catch anyone in the Outfit, they basically leave the rest of us alone.”

A smile faints my lips, and then all humor is gone when I think about the reputation of Sebastian’s father. “All I know is if I were him, I would have put a bullet between my father’s eyes a long time ago.”

I check through the various messages and emails I received during my wedding as we make our way to the dingy bar off the highway. When we arrive, both Aodhan and I tense at the empty parking lot. It’s either a wash spot or Sebastian sent everyone away for the evening. Either way, it’s not an ideal place to fly under the radar, especially on a day that we already garnered a lot of media attention.

We make our way to the door when Cormac appears from the back alley, nodding that it’s clear before we slip through the unguarded entrance.

Sebastian James doesn’t look up from the chair he’s slouched in, the cards in his hand casually in view for nearly half the table. His second, Nico, plays with the chips, dropping them over and over in a neat stack in his cupped fingers. A player across from them looks up, falls out of his chair at the sight of the three of us, and struggles to scramble to his feet and leave.

The dealer pauses, his face paling before looking at Sebastian. “Sir?”

“Deal them a hand,” he says, the lazy drawl of his words irritating me. Sebastian looks over his shoulder, his icy eyes taking me in with a mocking smile. “Maybe grab them a drink. They seem tense.”

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