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

It’s way past midnight, and he’s not home. Not only is he not home, but he hasn’t even answered my texts. And every time I call, it goes straight to voicemail.

Worry gnaws at me.

What if he was killed?

What if the plane crashed?

What if he was arrested?

What if, what if, what if?

Every bad scenario plays in my head over and over until I’m a basket case. I just need to know that he’s okay.

I keep pacing by the front door, just hoping he walks through it.

Maybe his battery died. I mean, I’m sure even mobsters lose phone battery, right?

Getting tired, I head for the den to watch some mindless television when the door finally opens.

I jump to my feet, dropping the remote and rushing for the door.

The foyer is pitch black, and I find his looming shadow there, my heart racing, unable to contain my emotions.

Relief hits me. He’s alive.

“Tynan?” I whisper.

“Elara. You’re still up.”

The moment I hear his voice, tears blanket my vision, and my relief turns to anger.

“Where have you been?” I march forward until I’m standing right before him, unable to really see his eyes. “I’ve been calling and texting, and you didn’t even have the decency to respond?”

Emotions plague me. So many of them hitting me at once, I’m overwhelmed.

I want to kiss him. Yell at him. Then kiss him some more.

“Come here, baby.” He clasps the back of my head with a palm, his mouth stroking mine.

And in the dark, all the sensations are enhanced, igniting me.

“I’m sorry I worried you.”

My fingers sink into his hair and as I try to kiss him back, I gasp.

“What the hell?” I force myself backward, insane rage radiating through me.

That was perfume I smelled on him.

He was with a woman.

And that instant thought is like a blade to my heart, slicing it in half.

I didn’t think he could do that to me, but I was foolish, wasn’t I?

It’s what the Mafia men are known for, right? Whoring around on their significant others. Why would Tynan be any different?

“Elara?” he calls my name, yet I barely hear it. “What’s wrong?”

My chin trembles. So while I was worried sick, he was fucking someone. My heart is as heavy as a ton of bricks, and I just want to run. Or smack him. Or both, actually.

I swear I wanna kill him, and I hate myself for even getting this worked up!

I shouldn’t care. He’s not my husband, not really. It’s not like we met and fell in love and then got married.

He doesn’t love me.

He’ll never love me.

It’s what he said.

Of course he’d go out and fuck someone else while I was here, worrying about whether he was dead.

His palm falls to my waist, but I roughly push him away.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” I whisper-shout, not wanting to wake Ruby or Brody.

I step back even further, needing to be far away from him.

“Elara! Tell me what the hell just happened!” The lights suddenly turn on, and he’s there, still handsome, concern fitting his eyes as he marches forward.

But nausea hits my gut when I imagine what he could’ve been doing tonight.

“What’s wrong? Did I do something?” A crease forms between his brows, and when his gaze prances down my body, wearing nothing but one of his white t-shirts, he grunts, clenching his jaw.

“Don’t you look at me like that!” I snap. “Who the fuck were you with tonight?” I stare at him accusingly, unable to control my tone or the tears spiraling down my cheeks. “And don’t you dare lie to me!”

“You think I cheated on you?” His eyes flare.

I nod.

“Mo chuisle…” His voice softens. “I would never. Ever. I swear.”

I sniffle. “Says every man who’s ever cheated on a woman.”

Blinking back tears, I swipe them away, wanting for once to believe that I could be loved. That I could be treated with respect and loyalty.

But it’s never been that way for me. Jerry would be out sleeping with everything that walked, not that I cared much about that. It was the fact that he was touching me at all that made me sick. And my boyfriend before him slept with a friend of mine and wasn’t even sorry about it. I don’t have the best track record for loyal men.

I just hoped that maybe, just maybe, Tynan was different.

I’m always wrong about people, aren’t I?

“It’s fine if you did.” I clear my throat, fighting the ache in my chest. “This was never real, right?” I force a smile, straightening my back. “Just don’t expect me to be faithful to you either.”

I turn on my heels and march out of the room, breaking into a silent sob, pinching my eyes closed from the pain in my chest.

But I don’t get far.

He grabs my wrist and yanks me against him, my front pressed to his. He cups my chin, searching my gaze with the raw emotions painted across every line of his face, like he’s hurting too.

“Don’t you dare walk away from me, love. Not when you just accused me of doing something that despicable.”

I let out a sob, unable to contain the pain etched inside me from the images of him with another woman. “You smell like perfume. And it’s not mine.”

His features turn brooding and intense, and in an instant, he’s grabbing my jaw, pushing me up against the foyer wall.

“You think I came home late because I was out fucking someone?” He tilts my chin up with his thumb, his eyes dropping to my lips. “That I would do that to you? That I could ever replace you like that?”

My bottom lip quivers, and I look down.

“Look at me, baby.”

When I do, I let out a cry, my resolve breaking, wanting so badly to believe he’s different.

“Never, Elara. There were women there, yes, and one tried to touch me and I immediately pushed her away. I didn’t touch anyone. I would never do that to you.”

He smirks.

“Why the hell are you smiling?” Confusion settles on my face.

“Because…” He slides his free palm up my thigh, his voice thick and raspy. “It’s clear you were jealous, which also means you care.”

The tips of his fingers softly roll higher until they’re tracing my bikini line. My lips part on a throaty moan, his touch making me forget why I was upset to begin with.

“Did it make you crazy to imagine me with someone else? Tasting her? Filling her cunt with my cock?”

“Stop it!”

And I don’t mean what he’s doing, but what he’s saying. Because it does make me crazy. I can’t handle the imagery.

A single finger feathers over my bare pussy. “Then say it. Tell me it made you jealous.”

His touch rolls against my clit, and I buck and groan, yanking his hair. His mouth drops to the underside of my jaw, teeth sinking, biting into my sensitive flesh. Every inch of me comes alive, dying for his touch.

“Because the thought of you with someone else…fuck, Elara, you have no idea what I’d do to him,” he grits through clenched teeth, his breath warm, skimming over my skin.

His gaze zeroes on mine, dark and hungry and almost possessed.

“You’re mine,” I tell him with conviction, holding his face between my hands. “All mine. I will never share you, Tynan Quinn.”

He inhales deep, pinning me further into the wall, his lips drawing near. “I am yours, mo ghrá.”

Then he crushes my mouth with his.

My God, he devours me.

His tongue roughly enters my mouth while my fingers unbutton his jacket, ripping his shirt open, buttons scattering everywhere, and he slips my shirt over my head. With hurried fingers, I start undoing his belt, but something instantly catches my eye, my hands slowing in my state of confusion.

“What’s that?” I whisper, staring at my name in the middle of his chest.

My heartbeats quicken, and I slowly reach out to hover a fingertip above each letter, his skin red and raw.

“It’s a tattoo.” He laughs. “Do you like it?”

“Yes…”

Paralyzing emotions overtake me. And the more I look into his eyes, softening for me, the more I wanna hold on to him and never let go.

“H-h-how…when did you get it?” My tone is low, my gaze returning to the beautiful artwork.

Thorny vines wrap around each letter, black roses on both sides of the tattoo.

He feathers his thumb across my lips, his eyes on mine. “There was a guy at the club. He was a tattoo artist. I asked him to create something worthy of you. I wanted to wear you on my skin. I wanted it so fucking badly, I couldn’t wait.”

“Why?” I ask again. “It’s so permanent.”

Yet I can’t help the way my stomach clenches at the sentiment. Why would he get it if he swore that he’d never love me? Why do that to himself if all we’re supposed to be is married friends who sleep together? People can care about one another and still not be in love with each other.

But this? The tattoo? Why would he need it if he doesn’t love me? Doesn’t want to love me.

“Because…” He cups my face, his brows furrowing. “You fucking own me, Elara Quinn. Never felt a damn thing like this before.”

Tears fill my eyes, until they overflow.

What does it mean?

I desperately want to ask him, yet I’m afraid of the answer. Because if he was falling in love with me, he’d say it.

“I’m crazy about you.” His eyes grow heavy-lidded. “I’ve been crazy about you from the moment I met you at the café. I wanted you right then.”

My heartbeats thunder at the confession.

“But it wasn’t until tonight while I was at this meeting, wanting to come home to you, that I truly realized how insane I am for you.”

He shakes his head like he himself can’t fully grasp what he’s saying. That he too doesn’t know what this all means.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t call you, baby. There was no reception at the club, then some drunk Russian broke my phone.” He chuckles dryly. “I didn’t want to be there longer than I had to, but Konstantin is…well, Konstantin. Yet all I could think about was seeing you.”

He touches his forehead to mine, kissing the tip of my nose, while I stand there, a complete mess for this man.

“You promise you didn’t touch anyone?” I swallow the thick ball of nerves in my throat, needing to hear him say he didn’t one more time.

He cradles my cheek, his face contorted with his emotions. “Never. I swear on my mother. I would never cheat on you.”

I let out a small snivel, and he takes that moment to kiss me again, slower, like he’s savoring the taste and feeling of me.

He gathers me into his arms, looking into my eyes as he takes us up the stairs.

That’s what I need right now, to feel connected to him that way.

Once we reach our bedroom, he lays me on the mattress, stripping off his pants and boxers until his skin is as bare as mine.

His eyes take me in from above, breaths heavy. And as he longingly stares down at me, I can’t handle the overflowing feelings it brings out.

He crawls over me, and the heaviness of his body on top of mine makes me more aroused.

“You’re all I want,” he rasps, sliding a hand between us, his fingers nudging inside me, until he’s thrusting them with ease.

I buck every time his palm presses against my clit. The sensation is incredible. He thrusts deeper, making me moan and gyrate my hips into the mattress, my eyes on his.

“Please, Tynan…I need you. Just you, nothing else.”

“Need you too,” he growls low, removing his fingers and replacing them with the crown of his cock.

His gaze aligns with mine while he keeps himself there at my entrance. Those eyes of his soften, and the look he gives…it’s as though he’s crawling into the very depths of my soul and asking to stay.

And I’d let him.

“Just sex, right?” he whispers, brushing his lips with mine.

No. My heart beats faster. It doesn’t feel that way.

“Yes.” I grab the back of his head. “Just sex.”

And with his gaze still on mine, he enters me with one single thrust.

“Fuuuck…” he grunts, while I’m gasping in pleasure.

His mouth hovers just above my lips, his breath warm and intoxicating, and all I want is to feel his mouth on me.

“You feel too good, mo chuisle.”

Then he’s kissing me, smashing his mouth to mine, driving his full length all the way out and then thrusting back in, sending my body and my heart into a wild crescendo.

We quickly turn into a twisted mess of legs and arms, our moans and the sound of skin on skin filling the space around us. He snaps my head to the side, deepening our kiss, wanting it to last just as much as I do. I’d give anything to be like this forever.

To be his forever.

And that thought? It no longer terrifies me, and that’s terrifying on its own.

But with Tynan, it feels as though every part of me is finally alive. Wanting to feel something real for the first time. It’s like I’ve been asleep all this time and Tynan woke me up.

His hips move with intention, yet slow and unhurried at the same time. Like quiet waves of an ocean, powerful and deep.

Our gazes lock, and that only heightens every sensation.

Every breath.

Every growl.

Every touch of his skin on mine.

His hand wraps around my throat, lips brushing my mouth until he’s kissing me again. And it’s a kiss filled with yearning and longing and deep-seated passion.

My body melts for him, and I crave more. I crave everything with him.

His tongue rolls with mine, his hips pummeling me with deep, punishing strokes until we’re eternally connected—bodies and souls twined into one being.

I’ve never felt anything more powerful.

My legs round his hips, my heels pressing into his back, needing him deeper. My nails sink into his shoulders, digging into his muscled flesh as his mouth lowers to my jaw, biting and sucking down to my throat.

My neck arches, unable to contain the series of moans escaping from my chest. His cock drives harder into me, and my walls pulse and throb, my need spiraling until I crash with a cry.

“Oh God, Tynan!”

He squeezes my throat, his fingers spanning the entire length of it.

“Look at me when you come.” His voice…it’s so thick with need, it only makes my release more intense.

I don’t know how long it lasts, but it feels like forever, though not enough at the same time.

As soon as I come down from the high, he flips me over, his body pressed to mine from behind. His cock is at my pussy, hand sinking into my hair as he pulls my head back, and with one swift move, he’s back inside me.

He takes me harder and deeper, until I’m coming again. And before I know what’s happening, he’s forcing me on all fours, fucking me so roughly my eyes are rolling back once more.

And when my release hits me this time, I scream out his name.

Because this feeling? It’s like no other, and I never want it to end.