Page 24 of The Celtic Resolution
Bruno’s teeth nibble lightly at my nipple then he catches the nub and lightly pulls away from me until my nipple slips from his teeth and he playfully bites the air. Then he’s back to kissing down my body. Our hands meet at the hem of my jeans and together we wrestle with the denim until my legs are free. He sheds his jeans just as quickly and then he’s back on me, buried between my legs and everything melts around me.
He licks against my soaked panties with zero hesitation and the subtle pressure of his tongue is enough to drive me crazy. I want more. I need more. I don’t want to be played and teased, I want to be gripped and held andfucked.
After tonight, I need it.
But Bruno continues to tease with flat, slow licks of his tongue against my panties until I can’t tell who soaked them more. His hands run up and down my thighs until one pauses on a nasty, twisted scar. A gift from Noah when he shot me in the hospital before kidnapping Evelyn a few years ago. The bullet went in badly and came out just as twisted so the scar is impressive for a gunshot wound. It’s making Bruno hesitate. His thumb lingers on the twisted, raised flesh and I can sense him wavering as if the fact I have scars has any influence on whether I deserve to get fucked or not.
“Hurry up!” I snap, moving my thigh out of his palm and dragging him back up by a fistful of hair. He comes willingly with a groan and our mouths clash messily as I roll us over and climb into his lap. His thick, hard cock presses against me through his boxers as soon as I settle in his lap and it’s all the information I need.
“Saoirse—” Bruno moans my name as if he’s about to say more but as soon as I shove my hand down his boxers and rapidly stroke his cock, he melts. Words turn into breathy, needy pants that match the pace of mine and soon my palm is slick with pre-come and his hips are thrusting desperately in the air.
So I give him what we both need.
Pulling my panties aside, I align his cock with my pussy and sink down onto him in one smooth move. He doesn’t fill me completely at first but my body weight helps me take him inch by inch. He’s just thick enough that the delicious stretch I enjoy so much heightens my pleasure. It’s a wonder I don’t come right there and then.
“F-Fuck,” I gasp, bracing both my hands on his muscular abdomen.
“Ah!” Bruno’s hands grip my waist and remain there until I bottom out and sit fully on his cock, with his fingers curling deep enough to indent my flesh.
But there’s no time to wait. As soon as I’m seated, I start moving with eager rocks of my hips back and forth, then subtle bounces that grow in eagerness as my body grows used to the slide of his cock.
His hands move. One curls around the back of my neck and pulls me down for a kiss and the other gropes my breast. Faster and faster I bounce in his lap, harder and harder I rock down chasing that delicious feeling that pushes me closer and closer to orgasm. Soon, kissing becomes pointless and we’re simply forehead to forehead sharing the same air as our mingled moans fill the room. His hips rise to meet me and each time I grind down against his pelvis, the additional rush of pleasure from my clit drives every sensation higher.
It’s fast and dirty, it’s too hot and not enough all at the same time. My mind locks onto the point of pleasure growing low in my belly and for a few frantic, sweaty seconds there’s nothing but the slick sounds of flesh against flesh, haggard panting and rough moans.
I come with a cry, throwing my head back and letting the pleasure take me. Bruno isn’t that far behind me and he seals theact with a deep kiss that makes me dizzy from how desperately I still need air.
It’s everything I need, and everything I didn’t know I needed.
It’s perfect.
The sun creepshigh in the sky as I drive back to the penthouse, sated but worried. Bruno and I parted on amicable terms but now that lust isn’t flooding my veins and my thoughts are more sane, the reality of what I just did hits. It’s not the first time I’ve slept with someone so recklessly and Bruno seems fun—aside from thetrying to kill mething he had going on—but ignoring all of that for a minute, I have to focus on the other daunting secret weighing me down.
I’m pregnant.
The father is unknown.
I have a baby growing inside me and I shouldn’t ignore it. But I’m going to. Focusing on work is much easier and more pressing right now even if that little voice in the back of my head constantly chants about the baby and the overwhelming responsibility that comes with it.
It taunts me for miles all the way home until I’m finally able to wrestle the thoughts back into a box and store them for later. I need to focus on work and the family first since the baby isn’t a pressing issue. It won’t even be here for another eight months so what’s the rush?
That’s what I tell myself, at least.
The rumors circulating about human trafficking are no longer rumors after what we found in that house which means there’s a very real threat out there that I have to get to the bottom of. One wrong move and the Irish/Italian alliance goesup in smoke. Bruno’s determination to find out who’s using his father’s name to do such terrible things might just be the smoking gun I need to blow this whole thing open. He’s an unknown player after being in prison for so long, and a fresh pair of eyes never hurt anyone.
Everything I’ve learned spins around my mind like a washing cycle as I yawn widely while walking into the penthouse. Maybe bed is the first call and then problem solving afterward.
“Saoirse?” Cian appears out of the kitchen with a cup of coffee in one hand and an electronic tablet in the other. “Shit, you look rough.”
“Long night,” I say as I toe off my shoes.
“I heard what happened at the house.” Cian offers me the coffee and I gratefully accept. “Nice catch.”
“Is it?” I stare at him over the rim as I drink. “We found a bunch of naked, abused women drugged up to their eyeballs in an abandoned house. You know what this means.”
“No,” Cian says. “There are a hundred reasons they could have been there. We don’t know for sure. You know better than anyone to not jump to conclusions.”
I should tell him about Bruno and the suspicion that someone is using the Del Prete name to move around the criminal underworld, but doing so goes against Cormac’s order to keep this as quiet as possible. Involving Cian probably isn’t the best move.
