CillianNo woman walks into our dungeon and leaves without getting fucked. Imagine my surprise, wrapped around the hottest, tightest cunt I’ve had in a while and my brother flies across the room, shattering the full-proof glass walls, and my—our mate walks away angrily, her ass tight in that leather dress. Absolutely not.It takes half a thought to shove my dick back in my pants and block the door before she can leave. Her blue eyes are stormy with anger, hate and desire as she meets my gaze. “Move.”Ah. That fucking accent. It messes with me, goes all the way to my groin.“You can’t leave,” I tell her truthfully, even if I’m not a very honest man. “It’s against the rules. You step in here and you give something in turn before you leave. So, which of us is it going to be?”Her eyes burn, bleeding from blue to black and it is all the warning I get before she grips my collar and smashes my back into the wall. My spine shudders and I blink, not from the pain cramping my muscles, but out
Scarlett We’re near the house when Riordan speaks again. “Friday.”“What?”He kills the engine by the gates and turns to me. “There are five days left in this month. I’ll have the last three. Clear your schedule.”I stare at him, baffled. “You can’t just spring things like that on me. I have important meetings on—”“You agreed to our bargain—”“Right,” I snap. “Your wards couldn’t even stop Lorcan. How the hell am I sure it’ll keep other things out? You’ve done nothing on your end and you can’t hold me up to mine.”His jaw ticks and I have barely enough time to respond when he palms my waist and lifts me out of my seat effortlessy. He places me in his lap and keeps me there with unbelievably strong hands, forcing me to straddle him. “I presume that means I don’t have to keep to my own end of the agreement when it comes to not touching you.”“Rior—”He clasps his fingers on the nape of my neck harshly and tugs me forward. His lips meet mine with a crash and he angles my head so thorou
“Where were you between eleven pm last night and six am this morning, Ms. Montogomery?” the detective asks, tapping his chin with his pen. My fingers tap into the glass table, anxiety tightening my chest. Je vas bien. “Home.” Because the truth would be much harder to say. “If there’s nothing else, I would very much like to return to my meeting, Detective.” Skeptical blue eyes meet mine. “You were observed on surveillance leaving at fifteen minutes past three in a red Aston Martin, with an unidentifiable man.” He folds his arms and leans back in my chair like he has no where else to be. “I'd urge you to be forthcoming, miss, as lying will only complicate matters. Now, can you provide information on the identity of the man, his contact details, or his place of residence.” Well, shoot. I smile diplomatically. “I could’ve gone on a joyride with my boyfriend for all you know. There’s no proof I did any such thing. Plus, you must not be very
My heels click impatiently on the marble as I fume silently, waiting at Scotty’s Café with a barely touched cup of black coffee. It’s not my usual style, but it’s busy enough to quench my fear of getting jumped. Under the table, my fingers dig into my thigh, shaping crescents into my skin. Agitation and frustration are my only companions as I recall the conversation I had with the doctor and a hateful Isabel before I left the hospital. “It would do him good if you stayed, Ms. Montogomery. It’d speed up his recovery,” Dr. Ian says, his fingers running along the stethoscope hanging off his neck. Retrograde Amnesia, that’s what the doctor thinks Alexander has, caused by the trauma of the accident. Even he doesn’t believe that as he says it to me. A more feasible explanation would be that somebody ‘wiped’ Alexander’s memory, up to the point where we were newlyweds—if such sorcery existed. Unfortunately, it does, and that knowledge makes me cold to my bones.
“This is absurd!” I cry. I’ve only ever been with one man. Alexander took my virginity, and we’ve been together ever since. Thinking of baring myself to another man scares me, not to mention four men! My core pounds, and the heat becomes unbearable. I don’t know what the fuck is happening to my body, but I know that this isn’t what I want! Riordan’s eyes flash, the black spreading until they cover the whites. Something burns on my skin. I peer down to see the crescent over my heart glowing. I raise my gaze to him, and…he’s so unutterably beautiful, and…I don’t know what I want anymore. I think I want to touch him. Never in my twenty-five years have I felt lust so blisteringly hot, it threatens to obliterate me. “Scarlett,” he seems to say, but his voice is guttural. Deep. Sexy. I ache. “Mon Dieu,” I whisper, fighting the urge to touch myself. Then, my gaze shifts. It’s Tiarnan. The exquisite perfection of his face, much like his brothers’, m
Scarlett "Hey, honey," I say, leaning over the table as I plaster a kiss to my husband’s cheek. "You're going to be late."Alex groans, bringing the glass of juice to his lips. "You know I'd give anything to spend the entire day with you, my love." He pauses, his grey eyes taking in my dress. He then sighs and drops the glass. "Come here."I grin from ear to ear. I chose the skin-tight dress in hopes to keep Alexander at home for an hour more. He turns in the chair and grabs my hip, pulling me onto his lap. "Evil woman. You don’t want me leaving the house today?" Alex murmurs, pressing hungry kisses to my neck that leaves my core pounding.Alex and I have been married for a year, and every day with Alex is a gift to me. I’ve never met a man so perfect; a man who is my dream come true. I love him with every fiber of my being and Alex spends every day showing me that he loves me even more.He is the richest man in the city, the busiest business tycoon, but never is he too busy to
“Scarlett!” Alexander yells after me, but I don’t stop. I can’t stop. I run down the stairs. My eyes are focused on the door, a broken sob slipping from my lips. This cannot be happening to me. Not Scarlett Chase. Not me. Something hurts so bad in my chest and I can’t fucking breathe. I clutch at my chest, gasping for air, wailing as my vision burns. “Scarlett,” Alexander breathes, suddenly too close for comfort. I rip away from him swiftly, nearly toppling over. “You need your pills.” “Go to hell,” I cry, my breaths short. My fingers fly to my throat and I try to force air into my longs, but it’s rejecting it. I’m having a panic attack. I do need my pills, but I can’t go back there. I won’t go back there. I hurtle for the door, but Alexander blocks the way, his eyes raw and injured. “Please. Let me—” “Don’t you dare say that to me!” I scream, and I hear soft, hurried footsteps. My gaze lifts to the stairs and I see Isabel running down. What is bet
I dream of four men, all devastatingly gorgeous. They imprint their names in my brain, just as they have left their marks on my body. They tell me they are princes and brothers. They tell me that they own me. “We will come for you by solstice to collect our end of the bargain, and you will not refuse us,” the dark eyed man tells me, before the world goes black. That was three days ago. I would have loved to believe that it was all some terrible dream, if I hadn’t awoken in my father’s home. If he hadn’t told me that it was a miracle that they found me alive. Without a single scratch, even if I was covered in blood. I would have let my brain convince me that it was a bad dream if there aren’t marks on my body. Four crescent shaped scars that look like tattoos. Two on either of my wrists. One on my neck. One over my heart. A knock on my door distracts me from my research of kings in Ohio, even if I know there is no such thing. I feel like I’m losing my mind. C