Brutal Vows (Queens & Monsters #4)(88)

I whisper, “So spank it, then.”

Breathing raggedly, he pauses for only a second before sliding his fingers all over my folds, up and down, even to the outside, over my thighs. I hear the noise it makes, his fingers covered in my slickness, and feel my face burn.

I forget about my burning face when he slaps me smartly between the legs.

“Ah!”

The sting of it is quickly replaced by a flood of heat that makes my muscles loosen and my jaw go slack. After that, a steady pulse of pleasure throbbing outward from my core makes me shiver.

Sounding triumphant, he whispers, “You liked it.”

“Yes.”

“Say it.”

“I liked it.”

He laughs. “Of course you did. Do you know why?”

“Because I’m sick.”

“No, sweet girl. Because you’re mine.”

My breath hitches. My heart pounds. I feel shaky and buzzed and so very alive. So alive, I’m flying.

My face half buried in the blankets, I whisper, “Come in me like this, Quinn. Fuck me hard and spank my pussy and come inside me. I need to feel you unravel. I want us to unravel at the same time.”

Fondling my aching clit with one hand, Quinn slides his other up my back to my nape, then down again, his fingers gently tracing the outline of my scars.

In a reverent voice, he says, “I started to unravel the first moment I laid eyes on you, viper. And even if tonight is all I get, I’ll never be wound right again.”

He pumps into me, starting off hard and continuing even harder as he plays with my pussy, stopping every once in a while to give it a brisk slap that makes me sob and lose my mind.

The motion of his hips only falters when he grits out, “I’m there.”

“Me too.”

“Ah, fuck, viper—”

“Quinn! Quinn!”

We groan loudly together, so loudly, it echoes off the walls. He shoves his finger deep inside my pussy. I rear back against him, clenching and clenching, shuddering uncontrollably.

Still pumping into my ass, he leans over and rests his forehead between my shoulder blades as he spills himself inside me.

Pressing his lips to my spine, he breathes my name on a long, low moan.

Any chance I thought I had of not falling for this man evaporates into thin air.

Whatever happens when the sun rises, my cold little heart is now in his hands.





34





Rey





We lie tangled on the bed together like victims of a plane crash. Neither of us speaks. It’s only when I hear my cell phone ringing from inside my handbag on the other side of the room that I sit up.

Slowly, because I’m dizzy.

Quinn murmurs, “I’ll get it.”

He swings his legs over the edge of the bed and rises, tucking himself back into his briefs. Walking across the room, he zips up his trousers. He returns in a moment with my phone, two aspirin, and a glass of water.

The phone has stopped ringing, but the number on the screen is Gianni’s.

“Here. Take these.”

Quinn hands me the aspirin. I pop them into my mouth, accept the glass of water, and drink deeply, all while avoiding his eyes.

I feel as if my heart is exposed, beating outside my chest. Like every nerve has been stripped of its protective lining. I’ve never felt more naked in my life.

Quinn takes the empty glass from me and sets it on the nightstand. Then he kisses me on the forehead and pulls the fuzzy folded blanket off the end of the bed. He wraps it around my body, nuzzling my neck and sitting beside me to pull me into the warm, safe circle of his arms.

I close my eyes and let him hold me while I sniff his neck and wonder how to politely excuse myself so I can go to the bathroom.

He saves me from embarrassment by picking me up and taking me there himself.

He sets me in front of the counter, kisses my forehead again, then murmurs, “I’ll give you a minute. Don’t lock the door.”

As if I could operate something as complex as a door handle lock right now. I couldn’t even tell you what year it is.

He closes the door, leaving me alone with my stunned reflection in the mirror. Flushed and splotchy, my hair tangled and my eyes hazy, I almost don’t recognize myself.

I turn away from the stranger in the mirror. I use the toilet and wash my hands. I wrap the blanket around my shoulders again and dial Gianni.

He picks up on the first ring, sounding chipper and relaxed, as if he’s enjoying a lovely Caribbean vacation. “Reyna! How are you, sorellina?”

“Where have you been?”

I don’t know if it’s the flat, disaffected tone of my voice that makes him pause, or if he can tell that I’ve just been used in the most brutal, beautiful way, but he takes a moment before replying.

“I’m at the Four Seasons with Mamma.”

“That’s not what I asked. Listen carefully. Where have you been?”

Irritation creeps into his carefree holiday tone. “Since when do I answer to you?”

“Since I married an Irishman to save the family. I’ll only ask one more time, then I’m sending that Irishman over to break your kneecaps. Where have you been?”

He snaps, “Taking care of business.”

“What business?”