“I know that. Or you’d have done them all the same. Different bombers, different tells.” He smiles. “Why, sweet thing?”
“Distraction. I wanted to get the crest. I needed the jewels. I wanted—” To see my little sister I don’t even know. But I keep that part to myself.
His fingers start to move. “Wanted what?”
“To cause some havoc.”
“Hmm.” He bites me again, harder. Then he looks at me. “It’s not that I don’t believe you, but I’m not sure I believe you have no idea about the first bomb. Lev Grant and the other man he was talking to—Hank?—looked at you.”
“Could have been looking at you,” I rasp, gripping the sides of the chaise.
He pulls his fingers out. “On your knees, leave the dress up.”
I scramble down, desperate, a pathetic creature ready to lick the floor for him. Which shocks me, because I’m not the least bit subservient. But to have him make me come? I’d crawl bare ass naked through a crowd.
He unzips and pulls his erection out. “Suck.”
I dive on him, sucking him deep, but he grabs my hair and pulls me off slowly so each rung of his piercings pulls against my mouth.
“It’s my business,” he says, going back to what I said earlier, “if my family gets hurt.”
“Fuck your family,” I sputter with my mouth full of him.
He pushes me back down, forcing his cock down into my throat and he holds me there, just long enough for me to struggle and start to choke. Then he pulls me up and off him so he can look me in the eye. “Those words get you killed.”
“But you’re keeping me alive, aren’t you?”
He smiles and pulls me up farther, toppling me on him, spreading my thighs so he can thrust deep within me. I cry out.
Seamus moves my hips so I’m riding him. “I’m greedy,” he says. “And curious. You had a sister, didn’t you?”
I force myself to ride him like nothing’s wrong and I throw myself into it, undulating on him so his cock and piercings pull and stroke me, and I say, “I did. They all died in the car crash.”
“Are you sure?”
“That’s what I was told.” I was told to say that by Iosif, so it’s sort of true. And I shudder because he’s grabbing me now, bouncing me harder, deeper, faster.
“And the crest?”
“I stole it,” I say, gasping as he bites a nipple, sucking it, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through me and I slam myself down on him with each bounce. “And lost it again. I hate power-hungry, twisted men. And Iosif took the crest. It’s mine. My father gave it to me, told me whoever has it owns the bratva.”
I’m slipping, sliding into an orgasm and, as I come, he fills me, cock pulsating inside me. “That finally sounds like the truth, sweet thing.”
SEVENTEEN
seamus
That furious fuckfestin the bathroom was hot as hell. Immensely satisfying and equally idiotic.
What I should have been doing after I lifted and looked at the ID in Lev’s wallet is find a way to talk to the two men.
I’m more interested in Hank Kerry, whoever he is. The man with the scar’s definitely involved in this, though. He’s older, maybe pushing late sixties. But I’m not one to make the mistake of thinking age has anything to do with lack of power or diminished danger.
It doesn’t.
I just don’t know why he’d look at me with the same depth of hatred on his face that Ava normally does.
No… not hate, actually.