Page 89 of Reckless Promises

“What do you want, Clover?”

“Please, fuck me.”

I’m so wet when he starts to glide in and out, that it doesn’t matter how tight I’m squeezing him. My body doesn’t stop shaking as he pulls back and strikes me with a deep thrust.

I wrap my legs around his hips, and all resistance has snapped. Cillian claims my mouth while he pounds into me so hard the bed rocks. The room tilts. The world breaks.

“Fuck. You’re so tight and perfect and mine.” Cillian lifts to tug the chain, and my nipples burn with my scream.

He pulls it again, and I arch for him, which he uses to his advantage. He slips an arm under my lower back and lifts to brace himself and fuck me harder. My breasts bounce as he thrusts in, and the chain flops over my chest. The cock ring is still vibrating each time he hits me deep.

Gunmetal eyes bore down on me. A man unleashed as he fucks me until he’s grabbing my hips so tight my body aches with him.

He tenses as he starts to come, and once more my own release rockets through me. I shatter with every one of his deep thrusts as he fucks me through it. And even when he slows, he continues moving in and out, glancing down to watch our bodies pulling apart and coming together.

“That was—” I can’t find the words because all of them wouldn’t be enough. So I kiss him instead.

And when he deepens it, I’m not sure what part of his body reaches into me, except that it might as well be all of him. Even when he lightens his kiss so his mouth grazes mine and he ghosts my jaw, he’s everywhere.

My husband.

32

Odette

I’m falling in lovewith Cillian. And all I can think is: Does he sense it?

Does he feel it?

Am I being naïve to consider it’s even possible.

Every day I discover new sides to him, and I realize more and more about how he isn’t who I thought he was at all.

Cillian’s nothing like my father, and from what my dad used to say about Ronan Cross, I gather he’s not like his either. Leaving me in a tug-of-war, wondering if I should be thankful or if its just a matter of time until he eventually becomes like them.

My mother once said my father wasn’t always as cruel. If that’s the case, could it also be true for Cillian?

I cling to the hope that he’s different. That it’s not possible for the man I’m falling for to become my worstnightmare. Each time I hand myself a piece of him, I hope he’ll continue to keep me safe. I didn’t want to let him in, but it’s all I can do when he opens me up and shakes things loose.

He makes me want things a mafia bride shouldn’t.

Interest.

Devotion.

Love.

My nerves are in a battle between what’s growing between us and what’s safe. And even if I’ve never felt closer, I’ve never been more terrified. Because he’s making me promises I don’t think I can survive if he breaks them.

He said he won’t let my mom and sister go down with my father, and I want to believe him. But how much is really in either of our control when there are always outside forces working against us?

Cillian walks up behind me, halfway done buttoning his shirt when he wraps his arms around my waist and looks at me through the mirror. “What’s on that wild mind, Clover?”

“Just deciding what to wear.” I force a smile, trying to bury my irrational thoughts before he can sense then.

“When will you learn?” He leans in to kiss the spot just beneath my ear before pulling back to finish up the buttons on his shirt. “You can’t lie to me.”

“Technically,I can.” I spin to face him. “It just doesn’t seem to do me any good because your annoying attention to detail sees right through it.”

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