Irish princess, p.16
Irish Princess, page 16
“What are you doing?” she hisses, her hands still planted on my chest. There’s splashing further down the pool, and others getting in, but all my focus is on her.
“Punishing you,” I tell her cheerfully. “Fucking you—“ I rock my hips against her, and see her grit her teeth against a moan. “Getting you pregnant. Take your pick, Saoirse. It doesn’t matter, because no matter what you call it, you fucking love it.” I thrust upwards, and hear the muffled squeal that she bites back. “You’re going to come again on my cock,” I whisper roughly into her ear, leaning forward. “Because you can’t help it, no matter how hard you try not to.”
“You know what, Connor?” Saoirse hisses breathlessly into my ear as I fuck her slowly, careful not to move so much that it becomes obvious what we’re doing. With another woman, I don’t know if I could have gotten off like this, but with Saoirse it doesn’t matter. Her tight, wet pussy feels so incredible that all I have to do is be inside of her, and I’m close to coming. Just the rocking motion of her atop me is enough to push me steadily to the brink.
“What?” I tilt my head back slightly, looking into her flashing green eyes, enjoying her fury, her embarrassment. Enjoying that I’ve gotten under her skin again, the way she got under mine this morning.
“I think I’m starting to hate you,” she whispers, starting to pant. “Fuck you, Connor, I’m not going to come, I’m not—” her voice is a small, breathless whine as her thighs tighten around me, her entire body rigid with the effort of trying to both not be noticed, and not orgasm.
“Oh yes you will,” I murmur. “Any second now, I’m going to fill your pussy up, Saoirse, and you’re going to come. I know you will.” My toes curl tighter, the intense pleasure flooding me, and I know I won’t be able to hold back much longer. If we go on too much longer anyway, we’re likely to get caught—and while I say I don’t care, I also don’t particularly want to deal with Graham being pissed off that I fucked his daughter in the pool, even if she is my wife now.
“I’m right there,” I groan against her ear, my hand splayed against her back, as if I’m just whispering to my new bride. “Half the party is in this pool right now, Saoirse. All of them, splashing around, with no idea that I’ve got my cock up you. No clue that I’m about to come in you, that you’re doing your best not to scream with the pleasure I’m giving you. Just about every man here would kill to be where I am right now, Saoirse, but they’re not. Do you know why?”
“Why?” she grinds out, her hips rocking now too as her body chases the pleasure despite herself.
“Because you’re mine, Saoirse.” I wrap her ponytail around my hand, tugging as I kiss her neck, keeping up the pretense of just getting a little too handsy with my wife in the pool. “And I’m about to fucking come in you, in front of everyone.”
“Oh god, Connor, please no—” she whimpers it, because she knows that’s the point of no return. I wrap my other arm around her waist, pulling her down hard against me so that her clit is grinding against me, my cock throbbing as I go rigid with the effort not to buck with pleasure and give us away too, and I feel her entire body shudder as her second orgasm crashes over her. “Oh god, Connor, they’re all going to see, they’re all—”
“—going to see me fucking fill you up,” I finish, holding her down on my cock so every inch is buried inside of her as she presses her face into my neck, the throbbing sensation as my cum spills into her all the more incredible by the need to remain absolutely still. It feels so good, she feels so fucking good, and I grit my teeth against a groan of pleasure as I feel her rhythmically clenching around me, both of us coming at the same time.
I’m so sated in that moment that I don’t have a chance to grab her before she squirms off of me, her eyes flashing angrily. I hurriedly tuck my cock away before anyone can see, but Saoirse is already moving away from me, swimming towards the steps.
“Come here,” I growl. “I didn’t say I was done with you—”
“You most certainly are,” she spits in a low tone, moving faster than I would have thought anyone could in the water, her face and neck hotly flushed. “You’re done embarrassing me, or punishing me, or whatever you want to call it, you fucking asshole.”
Something in me seethes at that. I’d just given her two orgasms, when I could have just set her down on my cock and taken my own pleasure selfishly, and she calls me an asshole? No one might have ever talked to Saoirse the way I dare to talk to her, but no one has ever dared to talk to me the way she does either, and it doesn’t fucking turn me on. I swear it fucking doesn’t.
It just pisses me off, and I’m not about to let her get away with it.
She storms away, towards the back entrance on the other side of the house, and I follow her. There’s a small mudroom that she bursts into, with boots near the wall, long shelves and a table against one wall with things scattered across it, but I don’t take notice of what any of them are. I’m too angry, and I grab her wrist, spinning her around.
“We’re going to have a miserable time of it if you don’t learn how to speak to me with respect, Saoirse—”
“Oh?” She glares daggers at me. “Or you could speak to me with some—”
“You’re just a spoiled rich brat who needs taking down a peg—”
“Is that what that was out there? You taking me down a peg?”
“Stop acting like you don’t like it!” I glare at her. “The pretty ice princess, who never thought about wanting cock in her life? What a load of shit. The virginal little angel handed over to me in exchange for me doing her daddy’s bidding? You’re fucking panting every time I get my hands on you.”
“This isn’t what we agreed to, you making me do filthy things in public—”
I laugh coldly at that, even as I can feel myself getting hard again. Why the fuck does fighting with her turn me on so goddamn much? She’s fucking infuriating, she drives me insane, she’s made my life hell ever since she burst back into it—and I’m dying to fuck her again not five minutes after I just came inside of her.
“I didn’t ‘make’ you do anything,” I tell her mockingly. “You practically begged for it. You wanted to come as soon as I touched you—”
“Fuck you!” Saoirse snaps, and I laugh again.
“You need to find a different insult, princess. Or maybe just learn to admit that you like what I do to you.”
“Why don’t you admit that you want it?”
We stare at each other, chests heaving, as I step towards her.
“I told you the terms of this marriage.”
“So stop breaking them! You can’t tell me what you just did out there had any fucking thing to do with getting me pregnant—”
“You want to get pregnant?” I growl. “Fine.”
In one swift motion I grab her, spinning her around and bending her over with a hand between her shoulder blades, pushing her thighs apart with my knee. I hold her with that hand as I yank my trunks down, my rock-hard cock springing free as I push between her thighs, jerking her wet bikini bottoms to one side.
“Connor!” Saoirse yelps, but I’m already inside of her, plunging to the hilt, keeping her bent over as she grabs onto the wall for balance.
“We’ve been married less than twenty-four hours, and we’ve already gotten through the basic positions, princess. Keep it up, and I won’t have to fuck you much longer before you’re carrying my child.”
“Won’t have to. That’s—fucking—rich—” Saoirse gasps out between thrusts as I pound my cock into her, all pretense of being careful with her newly initiated body gone. “You came not—five—minutes ago—and you’re—already—fucking—hard—”
“I’m just incentivized to get as much cum in you as I can, so I can stop doing this sooner,” I hiss, leaning forward. “Then you’ll have to get mediocre orgasms somewhere else.”
“Are you sure you won’t just murder whoever tries to touch me?” Saoirse wrenches around, her damp ponytail flying as she glares over her shoulder at me, her back arching to take more of my cock as I thrust into her. “You can’t stand me even laughing with someone. You’re going to let some other man fuck me?”
“After I’ve had my fill and you’ve had my baby. I won’t have any need for you then, beyond the paperwork we signed.” My voice is as vicious as hers, spitting out the words, but all I can think as she tosses her head and glares at me is that she looks so fucking hot it’s unbearable, her bikini pulled to one side as I fuck her swollen, well-used pussy, her hair bouncing and her perfect body arched in front of me, her round ass pressed against my hips. I’m already close, my balls tight and aching, and no woman has ever made me come this quickly in succession before.
It just pisses me off all the more that it’s her who does this to me.
“We’ll see.” Saoirse’s ponytail swings again. “We’ll see when—you—come looking for me—and I’m full of—oh god—some other man’s cum.”
White hot rage seethes through me at that thought, and I grab her ponytail, pulling her hair back as I fuck her harder, slamming into her as hard as I can. “You didn’t even tell me to stop,” I hiss, leaning forward as I thrust, the pleasure so intense that it’s almost too good. “I shoved my cock in you right here out in the open, where anyone could see, and you didn’t even try to tell me no. You just took it. I bet you’re going to come too, aren’t you, princess?”
“No,” Saoirse pants, her gaze flicking wildly towards the door, and I rise up onto my toes, angling my cock as deeply into her as I can. She’s soaked, her own arousal and my cum from before coating my cock, and it’s so deliciously filthy that I know, deep down, that she’s right.
I’m going to go fucking insane thinking of her moaning and writhing like this for another man.
No. No, I’m going to get my fill, and then I’ll get tired of her, like any other woman. This is lust. It’s the newness of a novelty fuck. It’ll wear off, and then I won’t care.
God, I hope so.
“I’m not going to come,” she whimpers, even as her back arches and I feel her tighten around me, her fingers clawing against the wall. “I’m not, I’m not, I—oh god, fuckkk—”
I feel her biting back the moan as I plunge into her, feel her entire body clenching around me as her back arches deeply and she grinds backwards onto my cock, her third orgasm rippling down my cock until there’s not a damned thing I could do to keep myself from coming too. It feels too fucking good, and I clench my own teeth to keep quiet as I thrust into her all the way, feeling my cock throb as I release another climax into her, one that feels every bit as powerful as the first.
I let every drop spill into her, holding her in place until my cock is starting to soften, even with the risk of someone coming in. Then I pull out, tucking my cock back into my swim trunks, and take my hand off of her back. Saoirse straightens instantly with venom on her lips, but I grab her around the waist before she can speak, tugging her bikini bottoms back into place for her and patting her right between the thighs, directly on her pussy.
“Don’t you dare think about cleaning up,” I whisper in her ear. “I want every drop of my cum in you for the rest of the night.”
“I—“’
“So help me god, Saoirse, I will pin you up against this wall with my fingers so far inside of you you’ll be able to taste it, if that’s what it takes.” I glare down at her, bending to graze my lips over hers. “My cum stays inside of you,” I murmur, and I feel her shiver.
I pull back, grinning. “You really are a horny little princess,” I tell her cheerfully, and as she glowers up at me, I pat her once more between her legs, watching her flush deepen to a cherry red.
“I—” She can’t seem to get a word out, her face burning, her hands in fists. So she turns on her heel, fleeing out of the mudroom as I stand there, still humming with the pleasant afterglow of two orgasms and the lingering enjoyment of having pissed Saoirse O’Sullivan—now McGregor—thoroughly off.
Maybe marriage won’t be so bad after all.
15
CONNOR
My second night as a married man goes about how I expected it would with Saoirse as my bride, spitfire that she is. She avoided me as much as possible for the rest of the party, flushing every time our eyes met, and studiously looked out of the window on the ride back to the hotel, refusing to so much as glance in my direction—a repeat of our ride to the party, but for entirely different reasons.
We’re supposed to stay at the hotel a second night—a mini honeymoon of sorts—until everything is set up for our temporary rental tomorrow. Once I can wrest the family estate back from my brother we’ll set up there, as we’re meant to, but for now we’ll be staying in an apartment downtown.
Saoirse goes immediately into the bathroom when we get back to the hotel, and I hear the sound of the shower turning on. She stays in there for quite some time, and when she comes out, in soft-looking sleep pants and a tank top, she stalks directly past me to her side of the bed, pulls the covers over her, and rolls over to go to sleep.
Not a word, from the second she stalked out of the mudroom.
I let out a sigh, loud enough for her to hear, but go and shower myself, opting to leave her alone. As much as I enjoyed wrestling orgasms out of her earlier today, I wouldn’t actually take any pleasure in literally forcing her to have sex with me, and besides, I’ve already come in her twice.
The goal, I remind myself, is to get her pregnant as quickly as possible. Once that’s accomplished, I’ll be free to look elsewhere for pleasure, and I’ll remember the enjoyment that comes with the chase, a new woman to fuck, to explore, to learn and then say a polite goodbye to as I move on to the next. I’ll remember why I’ve chosen not to tie myself down to one woman—particularly one with whom my future is as entwined as Saoirse.
She’s well and truly asleep—or at least appears to be—by the time I get back to bed, and I put a decent distance between us as I lay on my own side. I’m exhausted from the day, and it’s not long before I’m asleep too.
I wake before her to get ready for my meeting, and opt to leave her sleeping, not wanting another repeat of our fight from yesterday. Her phone remains blissfully dark, and I choose not to think about that text message from Niall—the contents of which I still don’t know—as I head to the warehouse.
I’m one of the first to get there, Viktor and Luca arriving not long after. “I sent Levin back to New York with Caterina,” Viktor explains as we assemble. “She didn’t want to be without the children for much longer.”
“She’s taken to them, then?” I glance at him curiously. It’s well known that Viktor has two children from his prior marriage, two daughters, but it wouldn’t be unusual for a second wife to largely hand them over to a nanny.
“She’s their mother now,” Viktor says firmly. “And she’s quite taken to the role. She’s eager for our son to get here, of course, but she’s no less a mother to my two girls—and they adore her as well, even my oldest, now.” He smiles as he says it, his harsh Russian features softening, and I notice that when speaking of his wife and children, he looks almost like an ordinary man.
That’s what love does to you. It softens you. I don’t intend to be the taskmaster to my children that my father was—be they sons or daughters—but neither do I plan to coddle them. The world we live in—the one they will grow up in—is rough and dangerous, and I don’t wish them to be ill prepared for it.
Liam wasn’t well enough prepared. Our father ignored him and I couldn’t do the job of being a good son to our father and a father to my younger brother both, so he grew up with less direction than he otherwise might have had.
Now he’s paying for it, and I won’t see something similar happen to my own children.
“What’s the plan?” Luca asks, his hands in his pockets as he faces us. “Liam beat us to the punch with the priest’s blessing for his marriage. You’ve married Saoirse. The O’Sullivan families and McGregor families are one. We need to decide how you’re going to approach the Kings.”
“I know he’s your brother,” Viktor says gruffly. “But this would be a lot easier if Liam were removed from the playing field altogether, so to speak.”
“You mean kill him,” Luca snaps. “That’s not acceptable. Not to me, as a part of this alliance, and not to Connor—”
“You’re letting your wife’s friendship with Anastasia muddle this up again—“
“Enough!” I shake my head, stepping forward and silencing them both with a glare. “There will be not another word about Liam being killed. He is not to be harmed. He will be exiled with his wife—and both Manhattan and Chicago are off-limits to him,” I add, glaring at Luca. “As I said before, I won’t have him plotting with your wife.”
“There’s no plotting,” Luca says coolly, but he doesn’t argue further.
“I want to try for a peaceful takeover,” I say calmly. “Liam likely has already heard that Saoirse and I are married, but if not, we make sure that news gets to him. We then try to arrange for a meeting of our two sides, without weapons or violence, if Liam’s side will agree to that. At that meeting, we will propose that Liam and Anastasia be allowed to leave Boston unharmed, as long as they do so within seventy-two hours of the meeting, and do not enter Boston again, nor Manhattan or Chicago. Their safety will not be assured in any of those three cities after that time. If Liam agrees, he may go, and I will then take up the seat and address the Kings as to how I plan to run the table, going forward.”
“And if they don’t agree?” Viktor frowns. “If they won’t meet unarmed, or won’t agree to Liam’s exile, or banning him from the three cities?”
“Then we’ll address that then. Let’s begin with the offer for a peaceful meeting.” I glance at Graham, who has been uncharacteristically quiet up to this point. “I want an attempt at taking over without bloodshed.”
