Page 6 of Mated to the Kingpin

Fuck. I grit my teeth and try to distract myself by roughly washing. But my cock still strains upwards, my balls heavy and full. Groaning, I give in to the need coursing through my veins. Bracing one palm flat against the front tiled shower wall, the water hitting and falling down my neck and back, I take my cock in hand.

I think back to the night before. Except, in my head, instead of the barest of kisses, I claim her mouth like I wanted. She opens under me, whimpering against my onslaught. Claire is the type of girl that deserves kindness and to be handled gently. Two things I’m not capable of, even in my head. No, when she gives in, I grip her ass with both hands, picking her up and carrying her into her apartment.

Stroking faster, I think about how I’d set her down and order her to strip down right there in her living room. In this fantasy, she’d do exactly as I commanded.

I imagine how her curves would look illuminated by the moonlight coming in from her windows. Her pale skin would glow and the dark curls between her thighs would look wet and inviting. I know from checking in over the years that she isn’t avirgin. I don’t give a fuck that I’m not her first. But I sure as hell am going to be her last.

I’d order her onto her knees and take out my cock. The thought of her staring up at me, face framed by wild blonde waves, her red painted mouth opening as her hazel eyes widen, has my balls tightening. I’d fist her hair and feed her my cock, oh so slowly.

I hiss out a breath at the idea of her choking around my length. She’d have to stretch her mouth wide and relax her jaw as I thrust in and out. Fuck, the sight would be so damn beautiful. I’d love seeing her struggle, but not give up. I’d see the determination in her eyes, her desire to please me, and the flush that would rise on her cheeks and chest as her body responds.

I’d take my pleasure and give her the barest of praise.

I moan as my balls empty in the shower. Instead of the wall, I picture how it’d be all over her cock-swollen lips and tongue, my seed spilling down her chin and onto her perfect tits.

My breath is ragged as my heart rate settles. The water is cooling and with a sigh, I clean the sign of my weakness from the tiles before shutting off the water and toweling off.

If I’d thought rubbing one out would help the need for Claire, I’m fucking wrong. If anything, it’s worse now. At least in my current form, I don’t have to worry about my knot being swollen. That only makes me think of Claire’s perfect pussy stretching to take it. Shaking my head, I wrap the thick towel around my waist and head back into my bedroom.

Tonight, I remind myself as I dress with the seriousness of arming myself for a fight. Tonight, Claire will finally be mine after ten too-fucking long years.

As I pull on a fitted black t-shirt and tough jeans, I can’t help the surge of excitement reminding me of the taste of victory awaiting me. I’ve waited years to claim what’s mine, and tonight will mark the beginning of our real story.

I can already envision how the wedding will unfold. Claire’s love for wildflowers—a detail I’ve kept tucked away in a corner of my mind—will color the ceremony beautifully. I won’t let this be just another family affair; I’ll make it personal, unique to her style and personality. I’ve kept tabs on Claire’s life like a hawk; I know her tastes better than I know my own. Her love for mismatched plates confused my mother when I made the request, but I hope Claire will notice. If she isn’t too angry with me.

Yet as I button my suit jacket, the weight of my past crashes over me. The memory of the night when I killed my best friend Seth, the pain of his loss and the guilt I still carry. Worse, the regret of not being there for Claire gnaws at me. I had saved her once, after breaking her heart and walking away from her. But how could I have faced her at Seth’s funeral? Even if I had been able to bring myself to attend, her parents declared me unwelcome in their lives any longer. I can only imagine the bitterness she must feel towards me for my absence, the lingering resentment towards the person responsible for tearing her family apart.

So I threw myself into the family business, distracting myself any way I could from the fact that I couldn’t go to the woman who is the other half of my soul. I’ve stalked her since, needing to know everything about her. Only Connor and Declan know of my toxic pastime. They only found out when I’d downed two bottles of whiskey and decided to go claim Claire that night. She was dating someone and had posted a photo of the two of them curled up in bed together, the caption talking about love.

My best friend’s had kept me from making an idiot of myself and doing something I’d never be able to take back. After that, I limited myself to a single drink of whiskey and they helped me keep tabs on her so I wouldn’t have to do it myself anymore.

As I hop in my car, my hands grip the steering wheel tightly. Each mile feels like an eternity as excitement clamps down on my chest. I’m damning myself, revealing how selfish I truly am. Because no longer is shame and guilt stopping me from taking what was always but never mine. I can feel our history coiling around me, mixing with anticipation for tonight.

Flashes of the earlier conversation with my father resurface in my mind—a reminder of the balance I must strike. The responsibilities of being alpha weigh heavily on my shoulders, yet they fade slightly as my thoughts of Claire reign supreme. Balancing duty with love feels impossible, yet the thought of claiming Claire solidifies my resolve to become the alpha I was meant to be.

The thrill surges through me, building to a crescendo as I imagine finally being able to make her my own tonight, and at the same time, bringing her into this life I’ve bled for, fought for, killed for. Tonight, the world will finally know Claire belongs to me.

Chapter 5

Claire

The audacity of Liam fucking O’Reilly.

I woke up, planning to head to the office where I work in PR for a corporation as normal, regardless of what Liam said last night. Then, after I’ve showered and gotten ready, while forcing down the green protein smoothie I’m trying to convince myself I enjoy, I get a text from my boss that has steam roaring out of my ears.

I don’t know what the hell Liam told my boss, but her message instructed me “to take all the time I need.” Like someone died!

Yeah. Just Liam O’Reilly trying to kill the future I’d envisioned.

Abandoning the half-drunken smoothie in the sink, I pace in my small living room. I proceed to have an argument with Liam, even if it’s only half-mutters from me and his responses are in my head. After going in circles with an imaginary Liam as obstinate as the one in real life, I stop and drop my head, hands on my hips.

I know who I need to talk to.

I march into the kitchen where my cell sits on the counter, tossed to the side as if it’s bearing the punishment of Liam’sactions. Pressing my thumbprint to the screen, I swipe until I find her contact and put my phone to my ear. She picks up on the second ring.

“Are you dying?” Lizzy asks, her tone half serious. I’d answer the same, since we rarely call each other and never as early as 7:30 in the morning.

“I’m so pissed off, Lizzy, you have no fucking idea,” I grit out, rubbing my forehead with my free hand.

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