Brutal Savage: A Single Dad Forced Marriage Irish Mafia Romance (Savage Kings Book 2)

“What the fuck!” I drop my palms on my knees, trying to quiet the pounding of my heartbeats. “What in the world are you doing in my house?”

He folds his arms over his chest with a menacing twist of his mouth. “Hello to you too, Ms. Hill. I think it’s time we had a proper chat, don’t you?”

“And you just break in? You’re insane,” I huff out, still frazzled. “You need to get the hell out of my house before I call the police.”

He blows out a long breath, like he’s bored. “And how do you expect that to go? I know every cop in this town.”

His eyes dance over my frame, and heat blooms across the path of his gaze. Those green eyes snap back to mine.

“You’re crazy!”

My body trembles with anger and frustration, with everything that just happened—the car, Grandpa’s bill. I can’t take another second of this! My emotions are in overdrive, and if he doesn’t leave right now, I’m gonna kill him or burst into tears.

“You need to go!” Rage simmers in my voice, but he doesn’t so much as move, remaining seated like this is his home, not mine.

“Have a seat, Ms. Hill.” He extends his hand and I laugh incredulously.

My head grows dizzy, and I’m about to scream.

“Get out!” I warn him one last time.

When his mouth twitches, I growl and lift the mug sitting on the counter, tossing it at his face. He jumps off the seat and watches it go flying straight into the wall, shattering into pieces.

“Wow. You have some balls.” For a moment, he looks proud, then his face shifts to something scarier. He stalks toward me, grabbing my jaw in a tight grip. “Let this be your first and final warning, little serpent. You try that again, and I won’t be so nice. Do we understand each other?”

My chin trembles, tears blurring my vision, and every strength in me fades. And I wish he would do it. I wish he’d just kill me.

My body rocks with heavy breathing as I fight not to cry, not to appear weak. I can’t take any more of this. None of it. Maybe my grandparents would be better off without me.

His brows furrow and his grip loosens, concern fitting his features.

“What’s wrong?” His thumb climbs up my cheek, wiping away the tears that happened to fall. “Did I hurt you?”

I shake my head, wincing from the pain in my arm, and then he sees it: the blood. With my black hoodie, it was easy to miss it at first.

“What is this?” he snaps, his nostrils flaring as he gently lifts my wrist to examine my arm. “Who did this to you?”

“I’m fine.” I swipe at my eyes. “I fell during my run. That’s all.”

I try to walk away, but in an instant, his arm curls around my stomach and he turns me to him, my front landing right against his.

His eyes sink into mine, my lungs stilling, refusing to allow a breath.

In this moment, I almost forget everything that happened. Everything except the way he’s looking at me, like he wants to keep me safe.

This sudden feeling comes over me, like if I were to fall, he’d be there to catch me.

And that’s the scariest thought of all.

Because that means I’d have to trust him.

His palm cups my cheek, a gentle thumb stroking the corner of my mouth. “Who hurt you?”

“I…I…”

“Just give me a name, and you’ll be reading his obituary.”

My heart, it practically bursts. He sounds like he means it, and I wish it were that easy.

“It was no one. I fell.” My emotions tighten in my throat as I meet his imperious gaze, not wanting to fight his hands on me anymore.

It feels too good to be touched by him, to be held this way.

“Elara, I know you didn’t fall. I know you’re scared of someone. Don’t lie to me. All you need to do is give me a name.”

My tears return, treacherous and wild, running down my cheeks. I want so badly to trust someone. To not be alone in this.

But I can’t. I can’t trust anyone with what I’ve done, the people I’m running from. Especially him. He’ll either use it against me like Jerry did or turn me in to the police. I am Brody’s teacher. He wouldn’t want someone like that teaching his son.

“There is no name. I fell. I swear.”

His eyes narrow and his thumb rolls across my lips. “It’s only a matter of time until I get you to trust me enough to tell me who’s hurting you, Ms. Hill.”

Warmth cruises over my barren and hollow limbs, filling me with oxygen.

“Good luck with that, Mr. Quinn.”

“Mm.” He pulls his body even nearer, until I can feel how strong he is, how hard his muscles are.

I inhale sharply, a throbbing pulsing between my thighs. He must notice the change in me because his smirk widens and his mouth moves just a little closer, warm breaths twining with mine.

I want him—no, need him—to kiss me.

To make me forget.

“You’re trouble,” he whispers, his mouth stroking mine, a growl emanating from his rumbling chest.

“I thought a man like you liked a little trouble.”

Deep, raspy laughter rolls out of him, the fingers of his other hand running up my spine before they get lost in my hair.

I moan low as he snaps a fist into my waves, tilting my head back. His lips land on my throat, kissing up to my jaw, teeth nipping and sucking along the curve.

Every inch of me aches for him, for this undeniable yearning coursing between us.

He yanks my head back even more, staring down into my eyes. “Who hurt you? Just tell me so I can help you.”

I want to tell him, I do. But no good would come of it.

“No one.”

“Fine. Have it your way.” He drops his hands off of me and moves back a step. “Though I will find out and I will take care of it, whether you ask for my help or not.”

Damn it. I don’t want him to start digging and looking for Jerry. If the car that was following me wasn’t actually the gang, then Tynan would just lead them to me without realizing it. I have to tell him something without giving much away.

“Fine. I’ll tell you.”

His eyes narrow as he leans against the counter.

I scratch at my temple, trying to find the right words. “I honestly don’t know who it was. I was running, and a car came out of nowhere and started chasing me.”

“What car?” An infinitesimal jerk hits the muscles of his neck, his stare explosive, like he’s ready to tear the world apart and find the culprit.

“It was a Toyota Camry. Black. No plates, and the windows were tinted, even the front one.”

“Fuck.” He runs a hand through his thick brown hair. “I should’ve been there.”

“What?” My features draw in confusion. “Why would you be there?”

His fingers curl into a white-knuckled fist. “Never mind that. What else do you remember?”

“That’s all. I ran into the forest and got this cut from a tree branch.”

“Take it off.” He starts removing his own suit jacket, unbuttoning it and throwing it over the chair. “Your hoodie. Take it off so I can clean and bandage your wound.”

Something in my heart squeezes and emotions pound in my eyes. This is the second time he’s made an effort to take care of me.

Why would he want to? And why do I crave that so much?

Because since your mother, no one truly has.

“Come on, Elara. You don’t want it to get infected.”

I nod, blinking back tears as I start removing one sleeve. But when I try to get the other out, I grumble in pain.

“Let me.”

Our eyes connect, and I almost forget the pain. Almost forget that I shouldn’t be attracted to him.

He inhales long and deep, gently easing off the hoodie, his eyes still drowning in mine. And every time they do, something unnerving pummels in my stomach.

“Do you keep alcohol and bandages in the bathroom here or upstairs?”

“Here.”

He heads toward it, like he knows my house already. Maybe he does because he knew the old couple who lived here before I moved in.

Seconds later, he returns, placing the alcohol, ointment, and gauze on the counter before he’s undoing the buttons of his cuffs.

I know I shouldn’t be staring the way I am, but I can’t look away. The veins running up his thick forearms snake beneath his skin as he pulls the right sleeve to his elbow, exposing the rest of his tattoo, thorny vines and skulls leading up and around his entire arm. Heat zaps between my legs even as I try to fight it.

This attraction is otherworldly.

Sinful

Dark.

Ominous.

Downright wrong at the very core of it. Yet I can’t stop it, no matter what I do.

He does the same to his other sleeve, dragging it up, that arm empty of tattoos, and I can’t decide which one I like better.

He’s all man—tall, rough, large hands, wide shoulders. He towers over me, yet I don’t feel small in his presence anymore.

“Sit down.”

He pulls the chair for me and lifts me onto it by my hips, and my skin tingles where he touched me.

He moves to my side and picks up the alcohol, holding my wrist above the sink. “This is gonna hurt.”

I nod, and he’s pouring the alcohol over the wound.

“Shit.” I crush my teeth and shut my eyes as the most intense stinging hits my skin.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” I manage to look back at him, his expression tense as he glares down at my wound.

“This will never happen again.”

“Okay.” I laugh to myself.

He has no idea who I am and that this definitely won’t be the last time.

If that was in fact Jerry after me, I’ll have to leave, and soon. But at the thought, an ache beats in my heart.

For the first time, I don’t want to go. I’ll miss teaching. I’ll miss Brody. I may even miss him.

That’s ridiculous, I know it is, yet somehow it’s also true.

He starts to bandage up my arm, glancing at me periodically, sending my heart spinning.

“Thanks,” I whisper.

“I’m sorry this happened, Elara.” My God, he sounds so sweet and sincere.

My eyes water.

“All done.” He lowers his sleeves back down, and I really wish he wouldn’t. “From now on, you’ll have one of my men watching you at all times. His name is Rogue. He’ll have an SUV just like mine. I’ll text you the plates so you know it’s him when you’re followed.”

Oh, no. As much as I need the protection, I can’t afford Tynan finding out about my past.

“That’s crazy! You can’t do that.”

“Watch me.” Intensity brews in his gaze.

“You’re infuriating! You think you can just waltz into my life and control everything?”

“That’s right. And you won’t do a thing about it.”

I snicker.

“Someone is clearly after you and you won’t tell me who you think it is, so it leaves me no options.”

Something pulls at my heart, and I want to cry all over again. “Why do you even care what happens to me? You’re not my boyfriend or my husband. We’re not even friends.”

He moves into my space, his hard body meeting my soft one. I look into his eyes as his knuckles brush down my cheek, and those treacherous tingles return.

I try to fight his touch, yet it just feels too good, like being pulled toward the fire, knowing you’re about to burn. But the warmth is just too alluring.

His lips brush across my ear. “I’d like us to be friends.”

“Please,” I beg with a shameful groan. “Please don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what, Ms. Hill?” He kisses the spot right below my ear, and I gasp in pleasure.

“That. I—I can’t…I can’t fight it.”

“Then don’t.” He fists my hair. “Look at me.”

I try not to. I can’t stare at this man without crumbling.

“I said look at me.”

And when I do, I find a man hungry and wanton.

“You’re slowly turning into my obsession.”

His confession causes my heartbeats to flutter even faster.

“I won’t let anyone hurt you again.” His baritone is smooth and rough, a concoction of everything forbidden. “Do you understand?”

Why? Why do you care? is what I desperately want to ask.

But instead I say, “Yes.”

My breaths stutter as he sucks me further into his tempestuous gaze.

Stroking my jaw with the back of his hand, he lowers his face until only the breadth of a whisper remains between us.

Then his lips crash into mine, like a wild and vicious storm. His tongue roughly parts my mouth, invading me without a fight.

I’m weak for him, and he knows it.

My nails sink into his muscled back, his palm gripping my ass, while the other clutches my hair, deepening our connection.

I can’t stop moaning as his wicked mouth peppers passionate kisses down my throat, biting the skin between my neck and shoulder.

“We can’t…” My pulse beats like drums in my ears.

That kiss, it was everything I could’ve wanted. But it’s not enough, and my body knows it.

“Why not?” He captures my lips again, kissing me slowly this time, like he wants to show me that he can be both men—the quiet and the loud, the gentleman and the beast.

“Because I could lose my job.” I tug on his hair, groaning with unspeakable pleasure. “And I don’t date.”

“I wasn’t looking to date you, Ms. Hill.” His growling rumbles as he squeezes my ass, pressing me into his rock-hard erection.

My face instantly heats up from his words, and I push off of him. Of course a man like him doesn’t date. He just fucks anything that walks.

“Great. Glad we’re on the same page. Let’s never do this again.” I start toward my fridge, needing a bottle of water for my dry throat.

He prowls behind me, palms landing on my shoulders, fingers tracing up and down my arms. “Do you want to date me? Is that what has you so upset?”

I laugh and whip around to face him. “Wow. You’re one smug jerk.” Moving closer, I pop my chin and push my body against his. “I’m not looking to date you, nor am I looking for a quick fuck. From you or anyone.”

That devilish mouth tips up and his eyes turn hooded as he tilts my chin up between two fingers. “You don’t date and you don’t fuck. So how do you get off, Ms. Hill?”

My shocked expression only makes his smirk grow.

“See, they actually invented toys for that, and they can get me off better than any man could.”

He chuckles, gripping my chin tighter. “Any man you’ve fucked so far.”

His eyes burn with meaning, and my stomach dips, my heart beating frantically.

“I’d love to watch you play with yourself. But see, no toy could ever replace the real thing.” His thumb rolls across my mouth, and my body shivers, nipples pebbling and aching for his mouth. “The feeling of human skin, the sounds, the connection. A toy can’t give you that.”

Those words send a shockwave to my already-pulsing core.

“But you can?” Another laugh simmers out of me, though I try to sound like I’m not insanely turned on.

Knuckles drop to my jaw, stroking it, making me dizzy. His eyes burn into mine, and I want to rip off his shirt and experience everything he just described.

“It doesn’t matter, does it? You’re not interested, so you’re right. This can’t happen again.” Mirth fills his gaze.

“Glad we’re in agreement.”

Please get out of here so I can finally breathe…

When I try to get him off of me, he curls his arm around the small of my back and tugs me nearer.

“Five thousand,” he husks.

“What?”

“That’s what I’m willing to offer you. Five thousand a day for helping Brody. It’s my final offer. Then I’ll be looking for someone else.”

Okay. That’s an insane amount of money. Money I desperately need.

“When do I have to let you know by?”

“In the next ten seconds.”

My chest clenches. “What?”

“Time is ticking, Elara. You either say yes now or you don’t.”

“You…you have to promise you won’t touch me like this again. I can’t⁠—”

“Can’t what, baby?”

Jesus Christ. He’s torturing me. He knows the effect he has on me, so he’s doing this on purpose.

“Don’t call me that, or little serpent, or whatever other nickname one would call their significant other. I’m not your girlfriend or your whore. So please, if I agree, you can’t push this.”

“When was the last time a man was inside you, Ms. Hill?” He arches his hips into me, and I feel it again: his thick, hard length pressing into my stomach.

“None of your business,” I choke out, my arousal heating.

Too damn long…

He pushes his hot, muscled body into mine, driving me up against the wall.

Trapping me.

His lustful gaze entraps me further. “Your time is up. What will it be?”

“Okay, yes. I’ll…I’ll do it. I’ll help Brody.”

He groans, rolling his hips into me, his mouth against my throat. “Good girl.”

And before I realize what’s happening, his hand slides into the waistband of my pants, lowering between my thighs.

“No panties,” he growls. “It’s like you’re asking me for it.”

“Oh, fuck!” My head slams back, eyes closed as he fingers my clit, leaving a trail of waking heat prancing down my body.

“You’re so wet already, little serpent. Is that all for me?”

I cry as he slips two fingers inside, thrusting them deeper and harder.

“You’re an asshole,” I moan, yanking his hair, gyrating my hips for more.

His laugh is dark and dirty. “Yet you’re the one soaked for me. Maybe that’s what you like.” Another thrust. “Is that it?”

His gaze darkens as his fingers press deeper, curving and pushing into my G-spot.

I can’t help the erotic sounds falling out of me in succession.

“You don’t want to like me, but you like this, don’t you?”

I hate that he’s right.

Hate that I desperately want him.

“Have you touched this pussy thinking about me?” He pinches my clit, and my eyes roll back.

I can’t admit to that. It would give him the upper hand. And if I am going to work for him, I can’t let him know how attracted I am to him.

Though he probably knows by now. You know, considering how needy I sound.

With a frustrated growl, he stops his movements, grasping my jaw and forcing me to open my eyes. “Tell me the truth. I want to hear one fucking truth from your mouth.” He gazes down at my lips, grinding his teeth. And I swear this man could eat me alive. “Have you thought about me, Elara?”

“Why does it even matter?” My tone is but a whisper, my chest falling with heavy gasps. “You don’t date, I don’t date, and I won’t be your whore.”

“But you’ll let me finger-fuck you like one. Isn’t that right?” A lazy half smile grows on his face, and as though sensing my incoming rage, he flicks my clit, and I release another moan. “Deep down, you wanna be my whore. There’s nothing wrong with that, baby. You’d be my only one.”

“Never.” My lashes tremble, my core coiled with need, and he rams his fingers back inside me. “Oh, fuck… Please!”

“Tell me the truth and I’ll let you come.”

With a frustrated groan, I grab his shirt. “Fine! Yes, okay? Yes, I have. I’ve touched myself thinking about you.”

“Shit,” he hisses.

And when he slams his fingers back inside me, his mouth takes mine in a rough kiss.

His cock arches into my stomach while his thumb plays my clit, daring the orgasm out of me.

This kiss, it’s carnal. Like he’s claiming me and wants me to know it.

My body turns tight, hands trembling. And when he flicks my clit this time, I fall, screaming his name.

“Yes, Tynan, oh God!”

“You sound so good screaming my name like that.”

He pummels deeper, faster, taking everything from me, leaving me breathless and hungry for more.

For him inside me.

For his bare skin against mine.

His fingers slide out of me before he sinks them into his mouth, sucking them clean. “I could get real used to the taste of you on my tongue.”

My cheeks grow hot, and with a bend of his mouth, he leans down and kisses me again.

Slower, like he’s savoring it. Savoring the taste of me.

His groans vibrate across my lips, his hands in my hair, pulling and fisting. My God, can this man kiss.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters, drawing back, feathering his lips on mine like he’s not ready to let me go. “You’ll start on Monday. How’s six?”

“Um…fine. Yeah.” I swallow past my dry throat, ready to agree to just about anything for him to kiss me like that again.

“Good. I’m looking forward to it.” He releases me and straightens out the collar of his shirt, leaving me unsatiated and barren. “Oh, and Rogue will be parked outside your home in less than an hour.”

I can’t seem to get a word out, unsure what to say or what to do, robbed speechless.

“I’ll be seeing you soon, Ms. Hill.”

When he starts for the door, I rush up a step.

“Tynan?”

“Hmm?” He looks back at me, eyeing the wound, and his anger appears again.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For caring.” I shrug with a broken kind of smile. “I almost forgot what it felt like.”

Something passes in his eyes, but it disappears just as quickly as it came.

Then he’s out the door, and I wonder if I just made the biggest mistake of my life.