Page 13 of Black Wedding
“I’m not going to deny it. You know you are hot and are physically my type, but no matter how much I might want to fuck you, that’s not what this is about. I need someone who believes in me. Someone who can stand by my side and let me lead, not feel the need to take over. I also need someone who will protect me when I can’t protect myself. That is what I am more interested in finding. So, I will answer your question, and then I’m going to bed because I’ve had a couple of beers more than I should. I’m moving into the land of mistakes,” I say, trying my best to sound firm and confident. His smile in response to my rambling is blinding.
“I am willing to take the time to show you that I am all those things. I may have only known you for a short time, but I already see that you are formidable. How your dad has never noticed is baffling, and despite the fact I very much want to fuck you too, we will keep this professional…for now.” He practically sings the last word, making it clear we will address it in the future. Hearing that he wants me too, the words rippled over my skin. Fuck, I want him badly, but I meant what I said, business first.
We talked for ages about how I hated my mother’s choice of lessons and how I trained in secret with Jimmy. I told him about the blood rush I felt at sixteen when I tortured my first traitor. He tried to report my dad to the police, but what he didn’t know is that the police are in our pockets. We own most of the officials in the city, it’s how we get away with so much shit. Liam leans closer as I describe the rush I felt using my dagger to draw that first drop of blood. How his screams were like music to my ears and fuelled me further. I drew it out, making sure he felt every ounce of my rage, every bit of the punishment. Right up until he was a sobbing mess, begging for death. Something I was only too happy to oblige.
This is a side of me that nobody but Jimmy knows about, yet as I spoke, I could see Liam revelled in my words, loving the power I could wield in my hands and the fact I wasn’t scared of it. Most men would think I’m crazy because I can kill without remorse, but I have my reasons. I have been surrounded by death from a very young age, I became desensitised, and if it’s well earned, I’m more than happy to give them what they deserve.
Liam talks about how he has a similar philosophy. He doesn’t just take on any job, he only takes on ones that he feels deserve it. As a result, he doesn’t inflict the level of violence that I can, preferring to slaughter swiftly and without a trace. That’s why he is the best. He is often long gone before anyone even realises that his mark has been killed.
Listening to Liam talk about hits he has done, how he chooses his marks, and what criteria he uses to guide his moral compass is intoxicating. I love hearing him talk about the power he wields over life and death and how he doesn’t abuse it. There’s something uniquely different about him. When I try to bring up his family or anything about his past, he shuts things down, changing the subject instantly. If his family really is a threat to my crown, I want to know all about them. I will have to work on getting Liam to trust me and open up about them.
We both talk for longer than we agreed, and mutual yawning makes us aware of just how late it is. Checking my watch, I confirm it has gone two in the morning, and we both agree it is time for bed. Liam, ever the Irishman, had drunk at least three more beers than me and didn’t have a wobble in his step or a slurred word in his speech. I, on the other hand, was way past tipsy. The happy, smiley, far too affectionate Bree has taken over, which is why I need to get her to bed before I say something stupid. Liam obviously has the same idea. From his standing position, he reaches out to help me off the sofa.
As I stand fully, the wobble from the drinks I consumed is evident. Liam is quick to catch me, making sure he wraps his arms around me to hold me upright. My heart races at our closeness and I feel the heat from our bodies melting together. Ever the gentleman, Liam half carries and drags me up the stairs to my bedroom. He stands me up outside my bedroom door, but I keep hold of his strong arms, not quite ready to let go. I can’t help that I am drawn to him, and I don’t want him to leave me here.
With hooded eyes, I look up at him, but instead of his signature cocky grin that I have come to like, he looks so serious. He looks like he’s brooding, but I don’t want to see that. I smile brightly at him and attempt to throw a seductive wink his way so he knows what my intentions are. But in my drunken state, it probably looks more like I have a problem with my eye. As Liam’s laughter fills the room my heart starts to swell.
Raising his hand, he finds a stray piece of hair and slowly tucked it behind my ear, his fingers leaving a trail of heat wherever they touch, from my chin, over my cheeks, and up over my ear. Liam’s touch causes my blood to rush and meet his fingers, a rouge-coloured blush spreads across my face. I can only imagine how red I must look. I wanted more of his fingers, more of the feel of them against my soft skin. More ofhim.
“Goodnight, Princess,” he whispers in my ear. Shock waves ripple down my spine, heat pooling in my core at the feel of his breath against my skin.
Using my free hand, the one not currently gripping onto the doorframe to keep my balance steady, I reach out and grab a fistful of his t-shirt. He looks down at it questioningly, but before he can say anything, my vagina gives out instructions, my brain no longer calling the shots.
I have to stand on my tiptoes to be able to reach, but as our lips press together, I have no regrets. His lips are soft yet firm. I lick my tongue across his lower lip to gain entry, and I’m instantly hooked on the taste that is all Liam. The soft moan I have no control of ripples out of my mouth and across his lips. My sounds of pleasure act like an electricity bolt striking straight through Liam’s body and he no longer holds back. Any hesitation he had about this happening is long forgotten.
Turning me quickly, he pins me with my back firmly against the cold wall, yet the front of my body burns from the proximity of him. His hands feel like they are everywhere, in my hair, holding my face, roaming all over my body in a desperate attempt to pull me as close as possible. I can feel his hardness getting more prominent against my stomach, but it’s the way he moves his mouth that really pushes me over the edge. His kisses are brutal, hard, dominant, and yet I crave them. I willingly submit my mouth and let him take my tongue, loving the feel of him abusing them. I want more.
As soon as he bites down on my lower lip, I groan loudly. I can’t help myself, I let my hand wander, and just as it sweeps over the impressive bulge in his pants, Liam freezes. We were in our own little bubble, acting on instinct without thinking. My hand travelling south made my intentions very clear and it’s obvious they differ from Liams.
He takes a step back, but with his body no longer there to hold me up, the alcohol wins and I start to crumble. Liam reaches out to hold me up using his arm, but his warm body remains a step away. Initially, I feel hurt that he’s rejecting me like this, but as he stares into my eyes with a small but genuine smile, I know he’s only doing what he thinks is right. It’s weird not seeing his cocky, know-it-all smirk, but the idea that our kiss made him smile causes my heart to swell and a matching grin spread across my face.
Liam looks like he is trying to find the right words to explain why he pulled away, but I am silently pleading with him not to say anything. I already know his reasons why the kiss shouldn’t have happened and why it can’t happen again. But for just one minute, I need to live in the moment of the best kiss I have ever experienced. He gives me a slight nod, understanding what I want.
“Night, Princess,” he says, placing a chaste kiss on my cheek. I feel my skin start to burn as my usual blush appears.
Before I even have a chance to say good night, he has gone, practically running into his own room. Leaving me standing in the corridor, my body on fire, my senses craving everything that is Liam Doughty. I want to follow him or have him burst into my room regretting his decision, but I know neither can happen. So I walk solemnly into the bedroom and get myself ready for bed. I already know that those lips and the hardness I felt growing impossibly large against my stomach will be featuring heavily in my dreams. But, for now, I need to remember that the only way anything can happen with Liam, is in my imagination.
Fuck! I am so screwed. It was a fucking miracle I had even a little bit of self-control, or should I say she did. I don’t think I ever wanted that kiss to end, and I didn’t plan on letting it until the sexiest moan escaped her lips. Instead of it being the turn on it should be, for some reason, all it did was remind me that we were doing exactly what she said she didn’t want to do. I don’t know why my brain thought that was the right time to get all honourable. I hadn’t gotten my dick wet in over three months. Planning a job as intricate as kidnapping Bree took focus, and now I have the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen throwing herself at me.
Had she not drunk her body weight in beer, she probably wouldn’t have felt the same. She made it perfectly clear when she was sober that this had to be all about business. Even though I’m not entirely convinced I want to be in this business full-time, hearing her talk about it has me all in. It isn’t so much that I want to run the company, I can’t think of anything worse. It’s more that I want to be there, standing by her side, watching her rule. I have no doubt in my mind she is strong enough to take on the world, but I like the idea of her having someone like myself to stand beside her. Someone to pull her up when she needs it and push others down who think they can take what is ours. I’m not saying I am entirely decided; I did spend my whole life trying to get out of the lifestyle my father forced me into. Can I forget about my shit upbringing and the horrible experience of working for my father, and commit not just to Bree but to the lifestyle I’ve fought so hard to avoid?
The next coupleof days pass by relatively quickly. The following day isn’t as awkward as I imagined it would be. She felt guilty for initiating the kiss. I could tell by the blush that spread across her cheeks and the way she lowered her gaze every time I caught her looking at me. It’s hard to believe that this force to be reckoned with, the same fiery princess who shot me the first time we met, is shy about a kiss. Then again, if it wasn’t for the stubble I had let grow the last couple of days, you probably would have been able to see very clearly that I, too, started to blush when I caught her looking. I hope she can’t tell I was thinking about how I have jerked off in bed multiple times, just imagining our kiss and where it could have led. I haven’t jerked off thinking about a real woman in a very long time; that’s what porn is for, but my head keeps creating sexual situations featuring Bree that are better than any porn clip I could ever find.
We don’t talk about the kiss or our obvious attraction to one another, choosing instead to skate around the issue and just cover normal subjects, like our plans for the business and how we will find out who is loyal to us. Or slightly lighter topics, such as activities we can do together to have fun and get to know each other. However, since today’s the day Kellan comes to visit and will be staying here overnight, I decide it’s a good idea to tell her about him.
She smiles at me as she moves around the kitchen, gathering glasses and plates to bring over to the table now that I have finished setting up the placemats and cutlery. When she walks to the table and I get a chance to fully look at all of her, I almost forgot how to fucking breathe, let alone speak. She is dressed in the tiniest little pyjama shorts you have ever seen. I can seriously see the lower roundness of her ass cheeks, that’s how small they are.
She has combined the shorts with her cami vest that stops before reaching the shorts, displaying a beautiful band of pale skin. When she reaches up to get a glass out of the cupboard, I get a delicious view of her belly button piercing. The sight has my dick straining so hard in my sweats, I legit thought they would poke a hole through them. Of course, that is without thinking about how the top of the vest scoops low enough to give off a delicious view of her sizable round tits. They look fucking amazing especially knowing she isn’t wearing a bra. I know that because the cami set is a faint blue colour, and I can see the outline of her nipple through it. I pull my eyes away before my dick gets so hard it will never go down.
We sit at the kitchen table; she brings the bacon, sausage, fried eggs, and toast through, putting them in the centre of the table for us to select what we want. I let her get her fill first, then I can polish off the rest.
“So, you’ve never mentioned anything about any friends to me before. I can’t imagine growing up with your family. Making friends had to be hard. Do you have any?” I ask, subtly trying to bring up a topic that I know will lead straight to Kel.
“Yeah, so it wasn’t easy at all. I’m sure you did your research on me before kidnapping me,” Bree asks pointedly, giving me a knowing look that is half pissed and half proud. Almost like she is pleased I would do such a thorough job. I nod, and she continues, “So, you know I went to Longstaff Boarding until I was eighteen. I didn’t want to go there at all. It’s a posh preparatory academy where they train you to become little model citizens. Women were taught etiquette while men were taught leadership. I hated the sexist inequalities of the place, but also the reputation I had there. Everyone knew who my parents were. The girls wanted to be friends with me because my mother ran the debutante programme. Only twenty girls from our year when they turned sixteen would become debutantes, and my mother held the golden tickets. Without being a debut, their chances of finding a rich dickhead to marry decreased significantly. Basically, it was the shit in my world. If you weren’t a debutante, you were nothing,” she spat, her fists clenching into balls as her anger warped her beautiful face into a scowl. I hated seeing anything but a smile on her face.
Well, I love it when she looks at me horny and ready to fuck, but I’m deliberately not thinking about that. I have only just got my dick down to half-mast, and that’s the best he could do. It’s like just being near Bree, and those ridiculous pyjamas, are a turn on. He is behaving like a teenage cock that’s never even seen a pussy before. Great, now I am hard again, thinking about Bree’s pussy. What was she talking about again? Fuck, get your head out of the gutter, Liam, and focus on the conversation, I berate myself in my head.
“I’m guessing you didn’t want to be a debutante?” I ask sarcastically, the answer already being plainly obvious.
