Page 2 of Knot your Princess
He eyes up Franco and Luca, his eyes going slightly softer when he sees Sophia. It makes me want to drag him into the car through the open window and rip his head off for looking at her. I’ll admit that I’m jealous, wildly jealous of any man, whether they be alpha or not, who gets to lay eyes on her. I want her just for me. She is mine.
In my dreams.
“Drive on,” he says reluctantly, giving Sophia one last sorrowful glance. He won’t see her again now for days. I think it’s part of her mystery and why she is so sought-after amongst the alphas in her father’s pack. That and her sugary-sweet vanilla scent with a swirl of caramel that makes my mouth water constantly when I’m around her. I get a taste of it, now and again. Fewer times than I would like, but I’m grateful that she gives me those few token moments when we are alone. She is hot, so hot. She rides my cock like no other woman ever has or will again. Stifling a heavy sigh, I drive through the gates and, a quarter of a mile later, pull up outside the compound main housing building and cut the engine. Climbing out of the car, Franco and Luca standing by, eyes always watchful, I open the back door for Sophia to climb out.
She turns to me, her gaze meeting mine. She has removed her sunglasses, so I can stare for one moment into her eyes. A connection between us exists that I know she denies. I can feel the tension drawing us together like a magnet. We look into each other's eyes for a moment, suspended in time until she brushes past me, and I slam the door closed, probably with more vehemence than I should have.
The three of us lead her into the compound through the main entrance. The building is enormous and split up into the pack housing and the private residence where Quinn, his wife, and daughter live. Even though I have a close family connection to Francesca Quinn, I’m still not allowed into the private residence.
Quinn wants his daughter to make her way through the main compound every single time, and delivered at the residence door. Most of the time, I feel it’s showing the alphas what they can’t have, but I know it’s for her safety. If there were signs of an attack, we’d see it well before opening the door to let her into her home. It gives us time to prepare and to manoeuvre her to safety. If we let her in the side entrance which leads directly into the residence, we are blind as to what is on the other side of the door.
Thisis the length that Quinn goes to in order to keep his daughter safe. This is the reason why I shouldn’t be mooning over her and have my head in the game at all times.
Her safety is paramount, and if anything ever happened to her because of me, Quinn wouldn’t get the chance to skin me alive because I’d do it myself.
I love her, but I can never be with her. It’s forbidden.
And I’m fucked if that doesn’t make it sexy as hell.
ChapterThree
Cain
The scent of vanilla with a subtle undertone of caramel hits my nose. I look up to see her walking through the communal games room on the way to her private quarters. She is dressed in a tight white dress that shows off her curves and her bronzed shoulders, with the cascade of raven hair tumbling down her back. It sets my blood on a course straight to my dick. She is gorgeous but so entirely off-limits; it’s not an option, even in my wildest fantasies. Surrounded by three of the pack's biggest and baddest security, Aidan Quinn’s daughter is the pack princess. His only daughter and a prized omega possession.
Nico gives me a death stare as they pass. He is definitely in love with her. Those subtle little gazes he gives her when he thinks no one is watching. But I see them. I see everything around here. It’s part of my job as Enforcer of this super pack. We are one of the country's largest, and we all live on this compound in relative harmony.
I lay the cards on the table and lean back in my chair. “Full House,” I murmur, locking eyes with Sophia.
Those bright green pools of heaven skate over me before she moves on. Her face is blank. I have no idea if she finds me hot or abhorrent. I’m not bad to look at. Ten years her senior, I’m six foot, with black hair and blue eyes, a body I take care of and tats on my arms and back. I do all right with the women. Not that any of them compare to her. She is beyond hot. Scorching. Those legs that go for miles and a rack that my dick wants to slide in between and then into her waiting mouth that is open and ready to lick me.
I refrain from making a longing noise. Instead, I increase the intensity of my stare until she faces forward again, and then she is gone.
Nico has buzzed them through to the prime alpha’s residence, where she resides, locked away in her proverbial tower until Daddy lets her out again. I know why he does it. It’s to protect her. Quinn is the head of the London mafia, and there is no getting away from the fact that his daughter is a target. Sophia is kept separated from her three older brothers. They live out here with the rest of us commoners, not given the security of their sister because they don’t need it, but she is too precious to disregard. I often wonder if it’s a lonely life for her. She doesn’t appear to be happy. She isn’t allowed a relationship with a man, or probably a woman for that matter, if that’s what floats her boat. She has two friends, who have been thoroughly vetted, and even they aren’t allowed to come here in case they are followed. No, Sophia has to go out to meet them at pre-arranged events that Quinn approves well in advance.
“You’re a fucktard,” Hugh complains with a loud groan. “How? How do you do it?”
“Smarter than you, arsehole,” I mutter and stand up. “I’m out. Take my chips.” I shove them towards him, not interested in my winnings. What am I going to do with it? Spend it on myself? Yeah, not that sort of guy. Now, I'd keep every last penny if I could buy something pretty for Sophia. But that will never happen in this lifetime or the next. I like my head on my shoulders, and messing with Quinn in any aspect, but especially with his daughter, is a bad idea. Averybad idea. Men have paid with their lives for lusting after her overtly.
Idiots.
They should’ve kept it to themselves like the rest of us muppets.
I head in the opposite direction to where Sophia went, making my way down the long hallway to my room. I go in and shut the door, taking in the sparse surroundings and minimal furniture. I like it this way. Fancy furnishings are a distraction and one I can’t afford in my effort to keep this pack safe. The only luxurious thing in here is the thick black carpet that sinks under my feet. But only because I spend a lot of time on the floor exercising. We have a weight room and a boxing ring on the compound, but I usually prefer my own company. I have demons that lurk, and they come out at inopportune moments. It’s best to keep to myself as much as I can. It all stems from my shitty childhood. Insert eye roll here. Yeah. Yeah. But being abandoned on the side of the road to be picked up by a gang to sell on the black market does that to a guy. One baby alpha male, coming up. The pricks who bought me didn’t have a kind bone in their body and used me from the day I could walk to fetch and carry, clean, and do errands which grew worse and worse the older I got. Being sixteen and ordered to get in bed with your ‘mom’ is something that sticks with you no matter how drunk you get, how many people you beat up, or how many women you shag. I sometimes wonder what it would’ve been like to grow up here as part of a pack. Sure, almost everyone here is a criminal in some aspect, but they care for each other. Look out for each other.We. We care for and look out for each other.
Must’ve been nice.
A loud knock on the door brings me out of my meditative state. I tear my eyes from the big window over my single bed, which looks out over the small lake that sits on the far side of the compound.
I turn towards it and reach for the handle. I already know who it is. The scent is feral and masculine, a bit woodsy and dark. If ‘dark’ was a smell, of course.
“Aidan,” I say, opening the door and stepping back. “What’s up?”
“Cain. I need you to do a job,” he says, coming in and shutting the door behind him.
The two of us in this small room gives it the feel of being overcrowded. He isn’t a small man. Bigger than me by a few inches in height and bulk. His Irish accent is broad and rough. His daughter looks a little bit like him, but she favours Francesca’s — her mother’s — beauty more.
“Anything you need.”
