King of the Cage: A Dark Irish Mafia Romance (Devil’s Own)

He was absolutely insufferable. As annoying as my brother had always complained. I could see why they were enemies. Bran’s easygoing, cocky confidence would rile Elio’s carefully disciplined, stoic approach to life.

I couldn’t stand him either, but I might have died if he’d stopped touching me. His thick finger eased down my slit. It was blunt and calloused, dragging in all the right places. My head fell back involuntarily, and a moan left me.

A deep chuckle washed over my skin.

“Now, that is a fucking sight to see.” Bran’s accented voice floated to me.

I stared down at him. His shoulders were flexed, huge and hulking, and other men’s blood dotted his neck, coloring his ink. His knuckles were all torn and messed up, and he looked like he couldn’t have cared less. His deep, green-eyed gaze fastened on me like I was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen.

He didn’t just look like a Celtic warrior at that moment, he was one.

Elio was going to lock me up in the dungeon at Casa Nera if he heard about this… and throw away the key.

Then he won’t find out.

Tonight, just for one night, I was going to do what I wanted, consequences be damned. I was a full-grown, red-blooded woman, and if I wanted to fuck an off-limits, sinfully hot Irishman in my very own bathroom, I was going to damn well do it.

“So, I suppose you do know how to do what you’re told now and again,” he murmured, lifting an eyebrow and jesting with a dark edge.

I swallowed the thick knot of lust and tension in my throat. “Not really, but there’s a first time for everything.”

“I’m honored to be your first, in that case.” He leaned in and licked a hot stripe up my inner thigh. “I’ll be the first, and the last man to give you commands from now on.”

I wanted his mouth on my pussy; I might die if I didn’t have it, and the fucker knew it. He was teasing me, and it was working.

My titter turned into a gasp as his hot breath hit my slit. He was so damn close, but not touching me, just making me wait.

“Is that right? What makes you think you’ll have another chance after tonight?” I arched an eyebrow back at him in the mirror.

He smirked and went back to studying my pussy, spread wide open for him. I stiffened, heat flooding through me with a sharp edge of embarrassment. Getting eaten out wasn’t something I did often. It was far too vulnerable a position to be in, and he was really drawing it out, forcing me to ride the line between lust and discomfort.

“Who says you’ll have any say in the matter?” Bran murmured, his breath hot against my thighs.

I gritted my teeth and bore the discomfort, waiting for him to touch me, or stand and fuck me. Waiting for something. Anything.

“Well? You want a fucking picture?” I demanded, my shame getting the best of me.

He laughed. “Yeah, I do, actually.”

His thick finger worked up my wet slit and dipped inside, before continuing even farther and circling my ass. I shivered.

“No, a picture isn’t good enough,” he said. “I want a fucking portrait of this sight. Painted in oils, rendered by yours truly, captured over the course of weeks… months, maybe.”

His possessive words sent heat through me.

“Whatever. It’s time to put up or shut up, O’Connor, before I get bored—” I’d barely finished speaking when his finger pinched my ass cheek, hard.

“Settle down, wee one, and keep being a good girl for me,” he growled against my skin.

I jerked, so shocked and outraged I could hardly speak. I opened my mouth to protest, but then his tongue landed on my slit, thick and wet, turning my protests to gasps.

“Look how perfect you are.”

His hands urged my legs farther apart so he could get closer, and his tongue flicked my clit. I was so turned on my knees went weak. Holding onto the counter to stay up, I tried to keep calm as his furious tongue buried inside my folds and rubbed hot circles on my clit. One of his big hands slid upward and dipped between my legs. A thick finger pushed inside me. God, everything about this man was big and calloused and rigid. His tongue worked me and gave me no mercy, his finger pumping ruthlessly inside me. I couldn’t think about anything but holding myself up. The world narrowed down to pleasure, cold tiles, and Bran’s hot breath.

I stopped being myself. I had no control. I was someone else.

His tongue left me. “You like that, Giada? Listen to you purring like a little kitten,” he murmured.

I clamped my mouth shut, only just realizing how I’d been moaning and panting.

“Fuck you, O’Connor.” I tried to wrestle back a shred of dignity.

“Oh, you will,” he said arrogantly, and then dived back in.

I screamed.

I was so close. I was going to come from being eaten out for the first time in my life. I’d never managed it before. I’d always been too tense. Too unsatisfied with how the man was touching me. Always needing more of something, or less of something else. Always too in my head about the smell and taste to truly relax.

Now, all those thoughts were gone. I couldn’t have cared about them if I tried. I was going to come, and there was no way to stop it. There was no way to stop him. There was something liberating about that thought.

I barreled toward the feeling, out of control but not afraid, for the first time that I could remember.

Then, a loud knock sounded at the door, echoing down the hall.

“Ignore it,” Bran instructed, fucking me harder with his fingers, his thumb running over my clit in circles, replacing his mouth. He stood, one hand between my legs working furiously, while the other went to my neck. He leaned into me, his tatted hand circling my neck and holding my face back, and kissed me.

My knees were about to give out. I couldn’t take the pleasure. It rushed at me from all directions.

The doorbell rang, and I flinched.

“Is there really someone at my front door right now?” I breathed raggedly against his lips, unsure if I was hearing things. I was having an out-of-body experience, so reality felt far away.

“No one is coming in, no one is going to save you from me…” Bran murmured, his lips pressed into my forehead. “You’re going to come with my fingers in your cunt and my name on your lips, and nothing is going to stop that… so just let go, wee one.”

His dark-green eyes fixed on mine as his hand worked its magic, and I was falling.

“Bran!” I nearly screamed as I came, my legs shaking and eyes drifting closed.

“Yes, sweetheart, say my fucking name and look at me while you come,” he demanded, and his hand tightened on my neck until my eyes popped open again. “That wasn’t a request.” He held me firmly imprisoned against him.

I shook all over, coming in waves. His fingers never stopped, drawing out the hardest orgasm I’d ever had.

The doorbell rang again, but I barely heard it this time. I floated somewhere far away.

He watched me come down and only removed his hand gently once I was slumped in his arms, boneless and spent.

He took the hand that had been inside me and brought his fingers to my mouth. I watched with fascination in the mirror as he rubbed his wet fingers on my scarlet-red lips. He hummed with approval as I licked the backs of his fingers, then he took them from my mouth and brought them to his own lips. He didn’t just taste me; he stuck his fingers in his mouth and sucked them like he was licking them clean.

The knock came again. “Bran — it’s important.” A muffled voice came through the door, drifting down the hall.

“Motherfucker,” Bran muttered, the spell over us broken.

“Go and see what it is.” My voice was far shakier than I’d have liked it to be. Damn it. Never mind rising above my random hookups. This guy had rattled my composure, and I needed a second to pull myself together.

Bran watched me step away and pull my dress over my bare ass, then jerk my head toward the door. He smirked.

“I’d tell you not to bother covering up, since we’re far from finished… but no one else gets to see you like this, and I don’t fancy putting one of my men’s eyes out, so you can keep the dress… for now.” His gaze raked across me, emanating a dark hunger that had me shaky all over again.

That look was what it was to be wanted. I wasn’t sure at that second if I’d ever really seen it before.

“Big talk… I prefer a man of action, for your information,” I tossed at him and turned to the mirror. I appeared wild. I’d been thoroughly debauched. I tried to piece my cool together while Bran headed down the hall to the front door.

I drifted closer to hear what was being said.

“It better be fucking life or death,” he said curtly as he opened the door.

One of his men was outside. His eyes stayed respectfully lowered as he nodded.

“I wouldn’t have interrupted if it wasn’t. It’s Quinn… Bran, she’s not hurt, but she’s in the ER.”

The air in the hall changed in an instant. Bran’s strong shoulders bunched with tension, and he straightened up, his hands curling into fists.

“I’ll be right out, and find me another fucking shirt,” he instructed his man tersely, then turned to me, unsurprised to find me eavesdropping down the darkened hallway.

“You have to go,” I said flatly. My heart beat fast, and disappointment flooded my veins. Had I really been so looking forward to Round 2 with this cocky asshole? Yes.

He nodded and walked over to me.

“Well, that’s fine by me… I got off, after all. I guess it sucks to be you,” I said with a falsely sweet smile at him.

He brushed my hair back from my cheek before reaching out and snatching me close. My breath left me as he whirled me against the wall and pinned both hands over my head, using one huge, battered paw to hold them. The other rucked up my dress and slid between my thighs. I still didn’t have any panties on, and his finger glided down my slit with ease. I was so wet from coming, his thick digit slid inside my pussy with little resistance. My back arched, pleasure spiraling through me.

“What the hell are you doing?” I hissed. “You have to go, remember?”

He nodded. “I’m making sure I have your attention. This cunt right here is mine, got it? Don’t even think about letting anyone else touch it, taste it, lick it, or get within five feet of it. You shouldn’t even get wet for another man… I’ll know,” he said, pumping his fingers into me.

They were so long and thick, the tip of his index brushed my G-spot, spots exploding before my eyes. I was rising already, happily on my way to coming again, when he pinched my clit and slipped his fingers from me.

“Hey!” I protested meekly and then swallowed my words. I wasn’t about to beg him to finish me off. I had some dignity, somewhere, if I could just find it.

He tucked my favorite knife into his back pocket.

“Hey! That’s mine. Why are you taking it?” I demanded hotly.

“So you don’t forget… you owe me, Giada. You’ll get your wee knife back when I collect.”

He leaned in, still holding my hands captive.

“Don’t forget who we are to each other, O’Connor. We might have gotten away with one bad decision… but two is pushing it. Unless you want to have an accident in the next few days, I’d keep my distance,” I told him, a sweet smile on my face. I wasn’t joking. If Elio knew what had just happened, Bran would be dead, or at least seriously injured.

“Haven’t you heard, Santori? I like to live dangerously. I’ll be taking what I’m owed… sooner or later.” He gave me a wry grin, releasing me and stepping back, giving me a mock salute.

Another knock at the door indicated that his man had returned, presumably with a shirt for his boss.

“I’ll be seeing you soon.” With a cheeky grin I knew I’d never forget, he turned and sauntered out.