Charming Killer: A Dark Mafia Romance, page 13
Palmira stared at the doctor—then looked at me. “Your call. You’re the fiancée.”
I blinked at her and shook my head. “Whatever the doctor says.”
“Fine,” Palmira said. “But you’d better save his life.”
The doctor tossed the towel over a chair and adjusted his sleeves. He had blood on his white shirt. “We can’t move him now. I’ll arrange for an ambulance to pick him up in a few hours.” He nodded at me and left the room.
Palmira paced back and forth. “Fucking doctor,” he said. “We pay him a goddamn fortune and he can’t even bring his stupid machines here.”
“Palm, it’s a hotel. He needs a real hospital.”
She sighed and pulled at her hair. “I know you’re right. Fuck, that never should’ve happened. I bet Cosima was watching the lawyer’s place. We walked right into that fucking trap.”
“Don’t blame yourself.” I squeezed Redmond’s fingers, and he squeezed back.
“I’m going out for some air. Yell if anything changes.” She left the room. I sat there, heart racing, watching Redmond for some sign of life—but he didn’t move again.
I kept replaying those few seconds over and over again. We stepped outside, Redmond saw the car, turned, and threw himself on top of me. If he hadn’t done that, I might’ve been killed.
He took a bullet to protect me.
Nobody else would do something remotely that dangerous. Not Chika, not James, none of my soldiers, none of my family. Nobody, except for Redmond.
And now I might lose him.
God, it hurt. It broke me in a way I never imagined. I wanted him to show me things—to make me a normal person again. I could be intimate with him in ways I’d never been able to with anyone else, and the idea of losing that shattered something in my guts. Redmond was a decent man, even if he was surrounded with hate and death and killing. He was an Oligarch, and knew only how to act like one.
Except sacrificing himself for me went against that entire ethos. Oligarchs were inherently selfish. They worked to maintain and expand their power at the expense of everyone around them. Diving on top of someone else to save their life, and nearly dying in the process, was not what a typical Oligarch would do.
Redmond was different. He was mine, and I might lose him.
God, when did I start to feel like this? I closed my eyes and thought back. It must’ve been early on—when I realized that being around him quieted the voices in my head and slowed my thoughts down to something manageable. Even now, with him in the bed half alive and barely hanging on, I still felt at peace.
I didn’t know how he did it, but he pulled me into a better direction.
“Why do you look so sad?”
His voice startled me. I looked up, squeezing his hand hard. He watched me through lidded eyes and smiled, though I saw the pain in his expression.
“Redmond. You’re awake.”
“Where are we?”
“Back at the hotel. The doctor was here.”
“Guess that explains the blood bag.” He chuckled and grimaced. “Fuck, that hurts.”
“You were shot. Do you remember what happened?”
“Dove on top of you. Then a bullet tore through my chest. Not much after.”
“We dragged you here. Palmira saved your life.”
“Good old Palm. She’s good people.”
“Redmond.” I touched his face and kissed his lips. “Why’d you do that? Why’d you jump on me like that?”
“Had to save your pretty ass. Couldn’t resist.” He grinned and winked. “I guess you owe me now.”
“You somehow manage to piss me off.”
“It’s a talent.” His eyes fluttered closed. “Feeling pretty rough here.”
“I’ll get the doctor.”
“No,” he said, holding my hand tighter. “Stay.”
I nodded and kissed his fingers. “I’m right here. I promise.”
“Did I ever tell you that I wanted you the first time I saw you?”
“A hundred times.”
“It’s the truth. That first time I was, like, who the hell is that girl? I want to fuck her until she can’t breathe.”
“Romantic.”
“But then I learned about you. And I realized you were the one.” He grinned at me. “You know that already though.”
“You’re on pain meds. You’re delirious.”
“I’m not. I’m looking at you and that’s all I ever want to do.”
I stared back and my heart leapt into my throat. “Redmond,” I whispered. “I haven’t told you everything.”
“You don’t need to confess. This isn’t my deathbed.”
“No, but I need to—” I stopped and steeled myself.
It’d been long enough. No more secrets. No more lying.
I’d held this burden alone, and I needed help.
“My real mother is Maeve.”
His eyes went wide. He coughed and grunted with pain, but he didn’t release my hand. He held it tighter, pulled my fingers to his lips, and kissed them.
“I figured.”
I glared at him. “What the hell?”
“It makes sense. Explains why you’re so hell bent on taking all this from her. Although I didn’t peg you for being matricidal.”
I squeezed his fingers. “She never recognized me. She never stepped up, never said a word, never did a goddamn thing. All those years she could’ve been my mom, and instead she was a stranger by choice. Did you know I wrote to her once when I was nineteen? I told her I knew she was my mom, and I asked if she wanted to meet. Do you know what she said?”
“I’m guessing it wasn’t nice.”
“She said nothing. No response. I wrote again, and I got back a simple letter. It said, no, thank you. That was it. Three words on a white card. From then on, I hated her.”
“God, Erin. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
“That’s why I’m doing all this. She’s my mother and she couldn’t act like it. She didn’t care about me enough to so much as write me a letter. So now she’s dead, and I’m going to take what’s rightfully mine.”
He smiled and his eyelids fluttered. “Damn right you are. We’ll do it together.”
I kissed him. He smiled, and his eyes stayed shut.
He fell back asleep. I checked his pulse and it was strong. Once he was out, I slipped my hand away, and snuck into the main room.
Palmira was gone. I was alone.
My mother was Maeve. It was strange to think about. Maeve the Oligarch had an affair with my father—the same Maeve that Redmond’s father had been rejected by. All these stupid men, lusting after the same woman, and she didn’t seem to want anything to do with any of them. She fucked my father enough to have me, but that was it.
I was given to him to raise and she washed her hands of me.
It ate at my soul. My mother didn’t want me. She never did.
But now I had the chance to take her empire for my own, and I wasn’t going to pass it up.
Chapter 23
Erin
The scans at the clinic went well. The doctor didn’t think he’d need surgery. “You got lucky,” he said, staring at Redmond’s chart.
“I don’t feel lucky.” Redmond sat in bed back at the hotel room. It’d been three days since the shooting and he was back on his feet, but he moved slowly and was still in considerable pain. Palmira hung around him like a doting mother. It was almost adorable, if she weren’t so frustrating.
I hadn’t left his side for more than ten minutes. I hadn’t spoken with my people, hadn’t so much as thought of Cosima. Chika and James could run their side of things without my help.
“Believe me, an inch to the left and you’d have a punctured lung. Keep resting and in a few weeks, you’ll heal.” The doctor shook his head and shoved the chart back into his bag. “Really, Redmond, try not to get shot anymore, all right?”
“I’ll do my best.” Redmond grinned at him and the doctor left, shaking his head.
“Do you need anything?” Palmira leaned over Redmond, favoring the arm that hadn’t been nearly blown off.
“I’m fine.” He scowled at her. He didn’t enjoy all the mothering and attention. All he wanted was to get out of bed and go kill the bastards that did this to him, but there was no way in hell I’d let him do much more than walk around the room and fume over his limitations.
Palmira followed the doctor out and I shut the bedroom door behind them. The spot beside Redmond was a me-shaped indent on the mattress and I crawled back in beside him.
I slept next to him now. There was no discussion, no drawn-out hand-wringing. He got injured and I felt partially responsible, and I couldn’t bring myself to abandon him. I curled up next to his body and felt his warmth radiate from his skin as he smiled down at me with that cocky smirk of his, but behind the confidence, I saw a glimmer of pain.
“You’re struggling today,” I said, putting my hand on his chest.
“It’s better than yesterday and the day before,” he murmured, touching my hand with his. “I’m not as bad as you think. I’ve been hurt worse.”
“I really doubt that. The doctor said—”
He waved me off. “I’m sick of hearing about what the doctor thinks.” He leaned over and kissed me. The gesture was so simple and thoughtless, and it sent a strange chill down my spine.
When did we get like this? Kissing should’ve been strange and uncomfortable. We weren’t really together. And yet it felt utterly natural to be in bed with him, to touch his body, to feel his lips pressed against my own.
How did all this happen?
I felt like I was spiraling, and I didn’t want it to stop.
“Did I ever tell you what my father said about getting shot?” he asked.
I shook my head. “You don’t talk about him much.”
“That’s because there isn’t much good to say. But when I was ten years old, he took me shooting then sat me down, looked me in the eye, and said, Boy, there are two things in this world that’ll make you a man: sex and getting shot. Do the former, not the latter. Trust me. I thought he was insane at the time. I still do. But I guess now I’m twice the man he ever was.”
I laughed at the absurdity of telling that to a ten-year-old boy, and yet that was the life of an Oligarch. There was no time to be a child, not when the family needed you to grow up fast.
“My father never gave me good advice,” I said. “He was too busy ignoring me to bother.”
“Why do you think that was?”
“A bunch of reasons. I was a girl and the second born. Darren got most of the attention. But also, I wasn’t legitimate, not really. My mother wasn’t my mother, and I have to imagine looking at me reminded him of Maeve.”
“She wasn’t half as beautiful as you are. I don’t get why both our fathers were into her.”
I laughed and kissed his chin. “You’re such a charmer.”
“Come here.” He pulled at my wrist and dragged me closer. I saw him grimace in pain, but he kept hauling until I straddled him. I gingerly touched his bandaged chest then kissed his lips gently.
“You should be careful. Doctor said—”
“Don’t.” He touched my lips with his finger, eyes smoldering. His hands gripped my ass. “I’m sick of being treated like an invalid.”
“You were shot. It’s barely been three days.”
“Three days is too fucking long.” He leaned forward and kissed me.
“I thought you would’ve liked spending all your time in bed with me,” I whispered as his mouth explored my neck and ear. I felt him stir between my legs, but no, we couldn’t do this, not when he was so hurt—
“If I could live with you in this bed for the rest of my life, I would. I’d become an expert in making you come. I’d practice all the different ways I could get you off, from licking your nipples to fucking your pussy, and everything in between.”
I shivered with delight. “I think I’d like to experience some of those in-betweens. Although I don’t know if I can get off just from you licking my nipples.”
“We can find out.” He tugged at the hem of my shirt.
“Redmond,” I said, stopping him. “You’re too hurt. I can’t.”
“You can.” He pushed my hands aside and tore my top over my head. I sucked in a breath as he kissed my chest and my collarbone. He chewed on my lower lip as he unhooked my bra.
His fingers felt like heaven on my stiff nipples. I moved slowly, trying to be soft and gentle, but he was eager and didn’t seem to mind the pain. He kissed me hard and deep, one hand in my hair, the other on my breasts like he couldn’t get enough of my body. His free hand drifted down along my spine, tracing the curve of my back with his fingertips until he moved back around the top of my pants and slipped his down between my legs.
I sucked in a breath. My panties separated his incredible hand from my dripping wet pussy. We shouldn’t do this for a million reasons—he nearly died three days ago, someone might walk in, I was terrified of making everything worse—but I didn’t stop it when he slipped my panties aside and rolled along my slick folds.
“Even ripped in half, I’d still want you,” he whispered. “I don’t care how hurt I am. I don’t care how close to death. You’re in my bedroom. You’re in my bed. I need to have you.”
“Redmond,” I gasped as his fingers slid inside and back out. “Why do you do this to me? All I wanted was—Ah, fuck—to take Maeve’s empire.”
“You didn’t count on me taking you instead.” He tugged at my pants. “Take these off.”
“Redmond—”
“Strip, now. I’d do it, but you’ll feel guilty and it’ll ruin the mood.”
I cursed, but obeyed. I rolled onto my back and slipped my yoga pants down. He watched, staring at my legs, at my hips, at my ruined and damp panties. His eyes narrowed. “Take it all off.”
I bit my lip, but the panties came next.
“Spread your legs.” He put one hand on my knee.
I did as he said. I felt so exposed. I was naked, and he was totally clothed, though his cock strained against his sweats, hard and rigid and thick and long.
He leaned across and kissed me as his fingers slipped up around my cunt and teased me until I moaned.
I’d never been treated like this before—like my body was for his pleasure and nothing else. People had been afraid of me all my life for a million different reasons, and I accepted that as my fate. I’d never be normal and never be treated like everyone else.
Except Redmond didn’t give a shit that I was the daughter of an Oligarch. He didn’t care that I was smart and driven and dangerous.
He wanted me. That was all that mattered.
And I loved it. I loved how badly he needed my lips and body, and how much he wanted to please me. I loved how hard he got, and as I reached over and stroked him over his sweats, I loved how he grunted in pleasure, his eyes burning.
Side by side, we stroked each other, teasing, touching, feeling each other out. It was the most intimate I’d ever been, but I didn’t want to stop. I was swept up in the way he looked at me and the pleasure I felt pounding down my spine, and I wanted him, all of him, every inch of his thick and incredible cock, I wanted it all between my legs, deep inside.
I moved toward him, squeezing my legs shut, and pulled down his sweats. He grunted as I took his cock in both my hands, eyes as wide as the long vein that rolled down his shaft to his thick, engorged head. I stroked him then took him in my mouth, my tongue teasing along the top, tasting him, before I slid him deeper into my throat.
“Fuck, Erin,” he said, more animal than man. “You feel incredible. Your tongue, your lips. You drive me fucking wild.”
I sucked him deeper, faster. I’d never cared much about sucking cock before, but now hearing him grunt and groan, feeling him push me down with his hands and grab my hair, I loved being dominated, and loved giving him pleasure.
I pulled back, gasping for breath as a long string of spit connected my lower lip to his throbbing tip and looked into his eyes. He crushed his mouth to mine and licked my tongue and teeth, and I pressed myself against him, climbing up into his lap, straddling his thick cock.
I felt him stiffen as I pressed myself down.
“I want you,” I whispered. “I need you to fuck me. Please, Redmond.”
“This is your first time, isn’t it?” His head tilted to the side. I hovered above him, his cock pressed against my aching and dripping pussy.
“Yes,” I admitted, burning with embarrassment.
“I wanted this to be different,” he said, kissing me softly. “I wanted to be more… active.”
“I don’t care. I don’t want to wait anymore.”
“Good.” He grabbed my hips and lowered me down. “I don’t either.”
I gasped and threw my head back as I slid down his shaft.
Pleasure and pain warred between my legs. The initial thrust sent a wave of gasping intensity all over my skin. He kissed me, held me there, his cock buried inside my pussy, taking me, owning me—
Then I began to move.
Slowly at first. It was so wet, so slick, so incredible. I moaned, panting. If I was hurting him, he didn’t show it. He grabbed my hair, sucked my nipples, squeezed my ass and spanked it. I moved faster, riding him, losing myself to the motion of our bodies, eyes locked on his, thinking about nothing more than fitting more of his cock between my legs, wanting it all, every inch.
He growled as I arched my back and rode him faster and faster. I’d never done this before and had no clue if it was right, but I didn’t care, and based on the way he stared at my breasts shaking with every thrust and the way his lips opened, and the pleasure etched on his face, I didn’t think he cared either.
I went faster, moaning together, and sweat rolled down my back. I was strained and stretched to my max and I didn’t know how much more I could take. He leaned forward, pulled me against him, and kissed me as I moaned into his mouth. He pulled my hair and fucked me, thrusting into my pussy faster and faster, and I ground my hips back, bucking and riding, and the world zoomed into a pinprick of time and space, only pleasure, only Redmond.
