Brutal Vows (Queens & Monsters #4)



The viper stares at me with her red lips parted and her mermaid eyes wide, her dark hair falling around her face and her lush tits straining for release from the deep V neckline of her dress as she clings to my shoulders.

The hem of her dress has ridden up, exposing her bare thighs.

Thighs I want to kiss, bite, and bury my face between.

Right here on this fucking carousel. Right now, I want to make this fiery, dangerous woman come with my mouth. I want to hear her moan my name and feel her pull my hair as I finger fuck her and lick her clit until she’s screaming.

Then I want to fuck her, deep and hard.

Heat rushes to my dick. It throbs, stiffening. I almost groan with need.

I knew I shouldn’t have come back to New York.

I should’ve stayed in Boston until the wedding, then moved Lili into my home and avoided her lethal, luscious aunt for the rest of my bloody life.

But it’s like my dick has become one of those divining rods, always pointing right at her hidden treasure. It’s obsessed with her.

After our first meeting, I left with a hard-on that kept returning despite repeated attempts to jerk it to satisfaction. I woke up in the middle of the night every night that next week with a dick so rock-hard and aching, I couldn’t go back to sleep unless I made myself come.

Thinking of the viper, of course. Imagining in carnal detail every single filthy thing I’d like to do to her.

The list is endless.

Those full, red lips I’d force my swollen cock past.

That long, dark hair I’d wrap around my wrist twice and use to pull back her head.

Those plush, soft tits I’d lick and fondle, sucking her nipples until they were deep pink and rigid in my mouth.

And that sweet, hot pussy I’d fuck in every goddamn position, over and over again.

I want it.

I want it all.

Except I convinced myself I didn’t. I convinced myself the burning lust I felt was all in my imagination. Especially after Declan’s warning. How could it have possibly been that obvious?

It couldn’t.

So, determined to prove to myself that I was totally in control, I threw myself into the shark tank once again.

I strolled into her kitchen, took one look at her standing at the stove glaring at me, and got so hard so fast, I was embarrassed for myself.

I came back today more determined than ever to keep it together, but she wrecked me with a single glance. She stood in the entryway burning me to ashes with her eyes, and I had to restrain myself from grabbing her and throwing her over the nearest chair so I could fuck her from behind in front of everyone.

In front of the lass who’s going to be my bloody goddamn wife!

I’m no stranger to sexual chemistry. I’ve felt desire before, many times. But this is something different.

This is the strike of the match that lit the raging forest fire.

This is dark, intense, and dangerous.

This is need, not want…and I don’t like it at all.

In fact, I fucking hate it.

Maybe even as much as Reyna hates me.

And I better find a way to handle it, because there’s too much on the line to screw up.

I can’t back out of the marriage to Lili. Not that I even want to—the lass is sweet as could be. She’ll make a wonderful wife. A wife I would never obsess over. Be distracted by. Be consumed by, which is the last fucking thing I want.

I don’t want to feel anything—that’s the whole bloody point! I wanted an arranged marriage so I’d never have to feel anything for a woman again.

The last woman I felt something for was kidnapped because of me.

She was shot because of me.

She wound up in Russia, impregnated by her Bratva assassin fucking kidnapper, all because I failed to keep her safe.

With my cursed luck with women, I know better than to ever let feelings get involved in my relationships again.

Yet here I am with my bloody idiotic divining-rod dick blasting at full speed in the direction of a woman they call the Black Widow.

A woman who’s like a mother to my soon-to-be bride.

A woman who hates me with a burning passion.

A woman who can never, ever be mine.

I yank my hands from her body and turn away, wondering what the fuck I ever did to make God hate me so much.





10





Rey





Quinn stalks away from me, leaving me gasping.

Gasping and shaken to my core.

I can count on the fingers of my left hand the times I’ve experienced true attraction in my life. None of them were anything like this.

My nipples are hard, my hands are shaking, and my damn clitoris is tingling.

Tingling.

To match all the fireworks going on inside my uterus. I never imagined I’d one day actually feel my ovaries throb and pulse like they were hooked up to electrodes, but here we are.

I have to get off the carousel before I throw a leg over this pony and start grinding against the poor thing.

I slide off the horse, landing awkwardly on the metal platform with a thud. I have to take a moment to allow my quaking knees to settle down. Then I take a deep breath, put my shoulders back, and shakily retrace my steps to where I discarded my heels.

I grab them and jump off the merry-go-round.

Barefoot, I make my way to the entry gate to wait for it to stop.

I stand there with my dry mouth and my pounding heart and my utter confusion, which is only slightly less severe than my guilt.

I wanted Lili’s awful fiancé to kiss me.

I groan, covering my eyes with a hand, glowing with shame that what I really wanted was so much more than that.

I wanted his mouth on every inch of my skin.

And I know in my bones he’d know exactly what to do with that mouth of his, too. He’d know exactly how to make me moan and beg, how to make me delirious with pleasure.

He’d let his big, rough hands roam all over my body while he lavished my pussy with his tongue, then he’d flip me on my belly and pull my hair and growl filthy things into my ear as he fucked me.

Fucked me hard and deep, because that Irishman is nothing if not powerful.

If I wasn’t already going to hell for all my other sins, I’m definitely going for this.

The carousel eventually slows, then stops. Lili and Quinn get off along with everyone else. They make their way to me as I try to look anywhere but at Quinn’s face.

He walks Lili past without glancing at me once.

Thank God. I prefer his silences and scowls over the other side of his personality. The swaggering, smiling, flirtatious one.

The one that constantly makes me flush with anger.

Except now that my sad and lonely vagina started howling like a wolf when he touched me on the carousel, I have a terrible suspicion that it wasn’t anger that made me flush before.

I think maybe my anger has been covering up something else.

Something unimaginable. Inexcusable.

Insane.

“Zia!”

I whirl around at the sound of Lili’s call. She’s being dragged along by the hand by Quinn, looking back over her shoulder and waving frantically at me.

Shoving my heels back onto my feet, I lurch away from the gate and follow them. Quinn is moving so fast, it’s impossible to catch up, but I keep them within sight as they walk straight through the crowd, forcing people to skitter out of their path or risk crashing into them.

We’re headed back to the parking lot. Gianni’s guards follow me, two behind and two ahead, spread out at a short distance. In their dark suits and mirrored sunglasses, they stand out from the casual summer crowd, but not as much as Quinn does. With his height and his golden-god good looks, he’s winning lustful stares from left and right.

And not only from the women.

By the time we reach the Escalade, I’m sweating and out of breath.

Quinn opens the front passenger door for Lili and helps her in. He closes her door and reaches for the back passenger door handle just as I do.

Our hands touch.

A crackle of electricity snaps white hot over my fingertips.

Gasping, I snatch my hand away from his.

He’s staring at me with hard eyes, a hard jaw, and an expression of pure fury.

Instead of angering or scaring me, that look sets every nerve ending in my body on fire.

My insides go liquid. My nipples harden as if he pinched them. My heart starts to pound, and I break out in a cold sweat. I’m so turned on, I’m breathless.

Clearly, I can never go near a carousel again.

He opens the door. Through gritted teeth, he commands, “Get in.”

It takes a great deal of effort to keep my voice steady when I speak. “I don’t know why you’re acting so strange today, but I’ve already told you I don’t take orders.”

Leaning close to me, his jaw still clenched, he stares into my eyes.

“Get your arse in this car. No questions. No sass. You don’t speak again unless I give you permission to. Which I won’t. Understood?”

His voice is low and gruff. His body heat burns me. I can smell him, the warm, masculine scent of his skin, and count every fleck of gold in his gorgeous hazel eyes.

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