Mafia King (Young Irish Rebels #2) - Vi Carter Page 0,69
to my ear. “And pull the trigger. Don’t ever hesitate, Emma.”
My finger is over the trigger, and I’m wondering if I could really pull it—if I could take a life.
“If you hesitate, you die. If those men came back, what would you do?”
Fear skyrockets, and I’m ready to turn to look at Shay. I hate that he would even say such a thing, but he keeps his arms clamped around me, his hands still over mine. His chest pushed against my back.
“What will you do? Will you let them take you again?”
“I had no choice.”
“Now you do. So what is it? Go with them or pull the trigger?” His words are angry and harsh in my ear.
My finger presses down, and my stomach flips at the click of the gun.
A kiss is pressed to the side of my face. “Good girl.”
Shay doesn’t release me, and the longer he is pressed against me, the more I become aware of his growing arousal.
“You deserve more than an arranged marriage.”
My heart palpitates. “Are you giving me an out?” I’m half smiling at the door.
“No. I wish I could.” He takes his hands off mine, and I’m ready for the loss of his warmth, but he doesn’t move. His hands run down along my arms, skimming my stomach before they dip into the waistband of my jeans.
“I’m marrying you, Emma.”
His fingers run along the top of my panties, and I suck in my stomach, hoping to give him more room to move his fingers deeper.
“For your seat in the South?” I ask, still holding the gun while his fingers dip a little deeper. I don’t want to let go of the cold metal against my palm.
“Yes.”
I know what we had wasn’t love, but I could see how easily I could fall in love with Shay; I just wasn’t sure if he could love me. Yet, he had come for me and saved me. His worry over what happened to me in the brothel was genuine; that had to count for something.
His hands move back up, and I can’t stop the whimper of disappointment that’s short-lived as he unbuttons my jeans and pushes them down my hips to my knees.
This time there is nothing blocking his hands. I gasp as his large fingers enter me. My wetness immediately allows him to easily fill me. My hands wrap around the gun tighter as he pushes two fingers in. The fullness of my breasts weighs down my bra, and I’m so aware of how heavy they feel right now. I have a yearning for Shay’s large hands to touch them. His fingers pull back out, and he runs them along my clitoris. The click of the gun in my hand has my eyes springing open.
“I think I should take that gun from you.” Shay’s words don’t sound worried; he sounds as turned on as I feel. I want to turn and see him, kiss him, but he plunges his fingers back inside me, and I’m losing myself in the arousal that this man ignites in me. The bulge pushes against my ass, and I remember how it felt inside me. My core tightens around his fingers before he pulls them back out and drags them back up to my clitoris, where he circles it slowly with his wet fingers.
When his other hand slowly moves up my stomach towards my breasts, I’m almost vibrating with anticipation. His hand cups my breast, pulling it out of the bra before he allows it to slide down and squeeze my nipple. I’m nearly ready to tell him to stop before I come all over his fingers.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
EMMA
“Are you going to give me the gun?”
I turn my head to see Shay, my cheeks heat, my heart races faster. He’s teasing, but I sense something more in his words, and they send a thrill through me.
“No.”
His smile tells me I’ve given the right answer. Was this roleplay? I had no idea. Shay releases me, and I turn to him, holding the gun.
“Let’s unload it first.” The grin is still there as he holds out his hands. I know this isn’t part of roleplay, so I hand him the gun. He removes the cartridge and ejects the bullet that sits in the chamber. My core throbs as his dark gaze travel all the way back up to my face. He leans over and places the bullet and clip on the bedside table. When he hands me back the gun, I take it.