Page 18 of Thorns of Deceit
She smirked, but her cheeks turned a deeper shade of red. “Maybe I was taking notes on how to pleasure a man.”
“Leave note-taking for another year or two,” I instructed, and I certainly hoped she’d heed the warning. For both of our sakes. “You’re out of your league, Raven.”
“Funny, I thought the same thing when you demanded I marry you.”
I shook my head. “Your wild tongue will be the death of me.”
“One can only hope.” She flashed me an innocent smile. “Although, I would think you’d love a woman with a wild tongue.”
God help me. The minx would be the death of me before I even bed her.
“I don’t want to discourage your interest in me,” I said slowly, barely keeping my wits about me, “but playing with fire won’t be good for either one of us.”
She shrugged, then let out an exasperated breath. “Fine, no more watching you jerk off.”
My idiotic dick thickened with images I was quick to push out of my mind. My young, virgin wife couldn’t handle the kind of sex I liked, and if she got a glimpse of what I was into, she’d probably jump out of one of the windows of our penthouse.Ours, not mine. That was fucked up, wasn’t it?
Raven gazed out at the city below, oblivious to my intrusive thoughts. It was almost as if she were separating herself from this world. I wanted to know how she was feeling, what she was thinking, and fuck if that didn’t mess with my head.
I’d never wanted to be married, especially to someone who, as far as we’d been able to find out, lived her life outside of any criminal enterprise. Growing up as an heir to the Callahan mafia had jaded me. I’d seen and done plenty of questionable things. The torturing of the mayor was one of the more vanilla things I was guilty of. In fact, I couldn’t remember a time when life wasn’t brimming with blood and death.
So what the fuck was I supposed to do with my young wife now? My dick took over while my mind flashed images through my mind of her on my bed, her face down and her ass up as she fisted the sheets and begged me to fuck her.
Dammit, these stupid ideas and this foreign, visceral need to fuck her would make living with Raven difficult, if not impossible.
“You’re staring.”
Her voice pulled me out of my thoughts, and I noticed she was watching me. Wonderful. At this rate she could murder me and I wouldn’t even see it coming, because I was too busy picturing her ass up on my bed.
“Maybe I can’t help myself because you’re so beautiful.”
She rolled her eyes. “More like you want something. Just ask, Aiden.”
I liked her bluntness. I liked the way she said my name even more. Fuck, this would be so much easier if I didn’t like her at all.
“What makes you think I don’t already know all there is to know?” I countered.
“Then why are you staring like you want something?”
I sat up, the couch creasing beneath my ass as I angled to face her. Although we were far apart, it was enough to make her flush, and a sick part of me liked that. I enjoyed the way she responded, and I was desperate to break through her walls.
“Where is your father?” I questioned.
She winced but quickly schooled her face, her features doll-like once more. “Not in the picture. Probably dead.”
My brow wrinkled in confusion. “Probably?”
She shrugged. “Yeah, probably.”
I waited for her to explain, and when she didn’t, I continued to prod. “What makes you think he’s dead?”
“Maybe it’s wishful thinking.” Her eyes locked with mine, and she pinned me with a look of defiance that had me shifting again, tension pulling at my groin. What was it with this woman who had me behaving totally out of character? “He destroyed my mother, so I hope he died in the most painful way.”
Her shoulders hunched like she regretted saying all that, but I wasn’t going to chide her for being honest. After all, sometimes I wished the same for my own mother, who had a tendency to make everyone around her miserable.
“Sounds like he deserves that,” I said, purposely sticking to present tense, but judging by her blank expression, she didn’t pick up on it. My instincts flared further. What was this Scottish mafia princess’s story?
“He should be brought back to life and then die a painful death every single day. Like the Titan Prometheus.” I raised my eyebrow in surprise while she continued. “In Greek mythology, he was punished by Zeus and chained to a rock, where an eagle would eat his liver each day. Since he was immortal, his liver regenerated overnight, only to be eaten the next day in an endless cycle.”
