Brutal Vows (Queens & Monsters Book 4)

Brutal Vows: Chapter 23



Lying on top of me with the length of his big, heavy body pressed against mine, Quinn kisses me with a strange sort of desperation, as if he’s trying to fit everything I never had into one kiss.

I don’t bother telling him he doesn’t have to try so hard, because I’m loving the attention.

“My sweet viper,” he murmurs against my mouth. Gazing down at me, he says something in Gaelic that I don’t understand.

“English, please.”

“English doesn’t have the right words.”

“For what?”

“How beautiful you are.”

Part of me wants to tell him he’s a cheeseball, but his eyes are shining with emotion and there’s a swelling pressure inside my chest. So I simply smile at him and dig my fingers into all his soft golden hair.

He lowers his head to my breasts and sucks a nipple into his mouth.

A lightning bolt of pleasure shoots straight down between my legs. I gasp, arching into him.

“So responsive,” he growls, sounding pleased.

He moves to my other breast and sucks that nipple, too, swirling his tongue around and around until it’s taut and aching. I close my eyes and slide my hands over his shoulders, learning their shape as my body comes alive under his mouth.

“Your stitches need to come out,” I whisper, shivering.

“Aye. Right after I fuck every part of you.”

His voice is so guttural with desire, it makes goose bumps form on my skin. He kisses his way down my chest to my stomach, nuzzling and nipping me gently with his teeth. His beard is soft but also scratchy, making a wonderful tickle everywhere it drags.

I want to feel that tickle between my thighs.

“Quinn?”

“Hush,” he says firmly. “You’re not in charge.”

I don’t know why the command in his voice makes me sigh with pleasure. I don’t know why his words of praise feel as good as a hand stroked over my skin. The only thing I know is that the bulge in his trousers is big and hard, and I want it inside me desperately.

But I bite my tongue and keep quiet, letting him go at his own pace.

Thumbing over my rigid nipples, he kisses his way down my belly, pausing to bite my hip. It’s not hard, but it’s very dominant, as if he’s saying This is mine. Moving lower, he bites my inner thighs, too, one after the other, licking and sucking the flesh where his teeth pressed.

It feels so good, I groan.

He whispers, “You like that?”

“Yes.”

“What about this?”

He gently bites me between the legs.

I suck in a breath, stiffening. It doesn’t hurt, I’m just shocked to feel teeth in such a tender spot. He quickly pulls off my panties, then gets right back between my legs, lapping at my folds with his tongue. I groan louder, pulling his hair.

I hear a soft, self-satisfied chuckle. “Aye, she likes it,” he whispers. “Good girl.”

I’d be a liar if I told him I didn’t like him calling me his good girl, though I really fucking hate that I like it.

My brain hates it, anyway. The rest of my body goes wild.

A violent shiver of pleasure runs all the way through me. My legs open wider. My hips flex, and it feels like all that happens from someplace beyond my control. My body is on autopilot, singing along to every note he’s playing with his mouth and hands.

“Look at this pretty pink cunt,” he growls. “God, I need to sink my cock in this.”

I make a garbled sound of pleasure as he runs his tongue up and down my center. Then, when he pulls back the hood on my clit and flicks his tongue back and forth over it, I moan, long and loud.

He slides his thick finger inside me, and I see stars.

His voice dark and hard, he says, “I want you to come on my face. Then I’m gonna fuck your pussy and make you come again. Then I’m gonna fuck your gorgeous arse and—”

“Too much talking!” I cry, bucking my hips. “Just do it!”

His lips fasten onto my clit. He sucks, shoving his finger deep inside me. I groan, arching against the mattress, my fingers dug into his hair and my bottom clenched as I grind helplessly against his mouth.

Crying out and scratching his scalp with my nails, I climax.

It rips through me. I thrash and buck through the convulsions, delirious at the feel of his hot lips and tongue licking and sucking me and his finger plunging deep. My nipples are so hard, they’re painful. A bloom of heat flashes over me. Sweat mists my skin.

The moment the convulsions have slowed and I’m begging him to stop because it’s too sensitive, Quinn rises to his knees, rips open the zipper on his trousers, and fists his cock in his hand.

I stare at it with wide eyes. My hammering heart skips a beat, then starts up again, beating even faster.

Thick and veined, the shaft juts out proudly from his fist. The crown is fat and red. The slit on top glistens with a drop of wetness.

His cock is fucking huge. Porn star sized. He’d make a killing in erotic movies.

“That look on your face is a bloody nice compliment,” he growls. Then he positions himself between my spread thighs and slides the head up and down through my pussy lips, wetting it.

I gasp, managing a breathy, “Condom?”

“Wasn’t planning on having sex today,” he says through gritted teeth, staring down into my wide eyes. “Still time to say no, viper.”

I’m so turned on, I can barely think. “You said you were clean?”

“Aye. I promise.”

“Then fuck me, Quinn. And don’t you dare hold anything back. I want everything you have to give me.”

His grin looks feral. With a single, powerful thrust, he shoves that thick beast deep inside me.

My mouth opens, but no sound comes out. I’m stretched wide, impaled on his cock, taking every inch of it as I sink my fingernails into his back and clamp my shaking thighs around his waist.

He leans down, resting his forearms on either side of my head and fisting his hands into my hair. Into my ear, he snarls, “I knew you’d feel like heaven.”

Then he snaps his hips again, thrusting hard.

My breasts bounce against his chest, my nipples dragging against the small metal piercings in his. I cry out in pleasure.

Chuckling, he pulls on my hair. His voice dark, he commands, “Ask me to fuck you again, wife.”

It comes out in one long, breathless rush. “Please fuck me oh God Quinn fuck me if you stop now I’ll kill you as soon as I can!”

He thrusts again. And again. And again. Each time, I sink my nails deeper into his flesh and moan helplessly, lost to sensation.

He starts to speak in Gaelic, a hot stream of words I don’t understand, but adore listening to. It’s a beautiful language, musical and lilting, but with a hard edge that also makes it sound masculine and sexy as hell.

Just as I’m about to come again, he rolls onto his back, taking me with him. Breathing hard and sweating, I stare down at him in hazy surprise.

His fingers digging into the flesh of my hips, he looks up at me with blazing eyes and orders, “Fuck that cock, baby. Ride me and make yourself come.”

I almost pass out from excitement.

Leaning over, I plant my hands on his strong chest and balance myself as I bounce up and down on his thick shaft. He feels incredible. I’m stuffed with his cock, full to overflowing, and I love it more than I should.

I love it more than anything.

I’ll worry about that later, but for now, I’m having the time of my life. This is way better than any of my toys could ever be.

My eyes slide shut. My lips part. When I dig my fingernails into his chest and release a breathless low moan, he laughs.

It’s a gravelly sound. One full of pleasure.

“You’re perfect. Look at you, my beautiful wife. Jesus, these tits.”

He reaches up and engulfs them in his big hands, squeezing and fondling them as I rock back and forth, grinding my clit against his pelvis. He pinches both my nipples at the same time, and my grinding grows more frantic.

When he sits up, grabbing me around the waist to steady me as he latches onto my nipple with his wonderful hot mouth, it forces his cock even deeper inside me.

My grinding turns frenzied. I start to buck and groan, pulling on his hair.

He bites my nipple, and I come, screaming.

Holding me tightly with his arms wrapped around my waist, he thrusts into me with short, hard snaps of his hips as my pussy clenches around his cock. He throbs inside me, a pulsing, rigid invader, stretching me wide.

I don’t realize I’m sobbing his name over and over until he growls hotly, “Fucking hell, woman, keep crying my name like that, and you’ll make me come.”

I don’t know what makes me do it. It’s not a rational decision. It just bursts out, blurted from ecstasy and some kind of dark, primal need.

“Yes come inside me please please please let me feel you come!”

Hearing me beg like that unleashes something in him. He was carnal before, but now he’s an absolute animal, snarling like a hungry beast set free from a cage.

In a move so fast, it makes me dizzy, he flips me onto my back again, throws my legs up so my ankles are hooked over his shoulders, then fucks me hard and fast, leaning over me with locked arms and wild eyes, his teeth bared as he plunges into me.

“Quinn! Oh God!”

He swallows my cries, crushing his mouth to mine and groaning into it as his body shudders and heaves. I feel him throb deep inside me. He jerks, biting my lips.

Then he throws his head back and groans at the ceiling as he makes one final hard thrust and empties himself inside me.

He’s beautiful. God, he’s so beautiful like this, sweaty and straining, his entire body clenched. I wish I could take a picture to look at later so I won’t forget a single detail.

A wave of emotion hits me hard, squeezing my lungs and stealing my breath. I turn my head and close my eyes, bracing against it, but it doesn’t help. I still feel it all.

Everything inside me aches and burns. All the cells in my body are screaming.

And they’re screaming the same thing:

Quinn.

Quinn.

Quinn.

The name of the man who looks at me like I’m a sunrise and laughs when I threaten to end his life.

The man whose ego is so big, it could flatten a city, but whose heart is so tender, it broke when he saw my scars.

The man I know almost nothing about except that he’s sweeter than any made man should be. Under all his macho swaggering, past his comic book superhero good looks and beyond his armor of snark, there lies a soul that aches with loneliness.

Just like mine does.

Or did, until right now.

Panting, he collapses on top of me. His whole body trembles. He pauses to catch his breath, then takes my face in his hands and kisses me deeply.

“Hi,” he says gruffly, looking into my eyes.

“Hi yourself.”

“Why are you smiling like that?”

“Maybe I’m thinking about pushing you out a window.”

His laugh is low and breathless. “Or maybe you’re thinking about what a sex god I am.”

“Actually, I was thinking that I’m a lot more flexible through the hips than I thought. In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m folded in half underneath you.”

“Fuck. Sorry.”

He lifts his chest so I can pull my legs down, then settles right back on top of me, keeping his cock seated inside me the entire time. I wind my arms up around his shoulders, inhale deeply, then exhale, stretching underneath him like a cat.

He gazes at me from under hooded lids. “I have something to say.”

I fling my arms out to the sides and sigh. “Of course you do.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. It’s not bad.”

“I’m going to hunt down these therapists of yours and make them change careers. They’re turning grown men into Oprah Winfrey.”

“Be quiet and listen to me.”

“It’s not like I have a choice. You weigh a thousand pounds. I’m not going anywhere.”

He rolls onto his back, adjusts me on top of him so our bodies are aligned, then tucks my head into the crook of his neck and squeezes me.

“Better?”

Snuggling against his hard chest, I nod.

“Okay. So here’s what I want to say.”

There’s a long, ominous pause.

“Don’t break your brain, Quinn. Just say it.”

His chest rises and falls with his heavy exhalation. He slides his open hand down my spine, his fingers gently tracing a path around my scars. Then, abruptly, he starts talking.

“I’ll kill anyone who ever disrespects you. I’ll kill anyone who even looks at you the wrong way. If anyone so much as annoys you, I’ll put a bullet in his skull and throw his body into the Charles River. You never have to fight your own battles again, viper, understood? I’ll fucking destroy any dumb motherfucker who ever dares to even make you frown.”

He’s so vehement and his words are so unlikely, I start to laugh.

“Wow, Romeo. Does sex always make you this stabby?”

“And she’s laughing,” he grumbles. “Bloody wonderful.”

“Wait…” I lift my head and look at him. “Are you serious?”

“Aye, I’m bloody serious!”

“Because that’s unhinged. You know that, right?”

“I don’t care!”

My brows lifted, I examine his expression. Aside from being insulted that I laughed, he’s completely sincere about his threats.

It’s a strange mix of disbelief and wonder that I feel.

And worry, too. This man’s trigger finger is a little too itchy.

I say softly, “Thank you. That’s lovely. Insane, but lovely.”

He grumbles something and looks away.

Trying very hard not to laugh, I kiss his cheek. Into his ear, I whisper, “You know, for such a macho man, you’re a big softie.”

He grouses, “Don’t say the word ‘soft’ when I’m still inside you.”

I can’t help it now. I drop my head to his chest and laugh until he rolls me back over and kisses me.

Grinning down at me with shining eyes, he says, “What’s that hideous noise you’re making, lass? I’ve heard hyenas that sound better.” Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FɪndNovᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Excuse me, but at the moment, I’m stuffed to my larynx with your giant dick. My lungs have probably collapsed.”

He beams. “So you like it, do you?”

“Stop fishing for compliments.”

He drops his head and puts his lips near my ear. “You love it. Admit it.”

“I admit nothing.”

When he flexes his hips, I have to stifle a moan. “Wait, how are you still hard?”

“You’re naked. So I’m hard.”

“But you…”

“Came. Aye. Bucketloads.”

When I make a face, he chuckles. “Does that offend her ladyship’s delicate sensibilities?”

“Let’s just say my sensibilities aren’t used to this kind of sex talk.” My smile dies. Bad memories assault me, and I have to look away.

After a moment of gazing at me in silence, Quinn says softly, “He doesn’t get a place between us, lass. Keep him in his grave where he belongs.”

My throat gets tight and my chest starts to ache, and so help me God, if this bastard makes me cry, I’ll stick a knife between his ribs.

In a strangled voice, I say, “I want to give you a compliment, but I don’t want it to go to your head.”

He furrows his brows, waiting.

“I’ve downgraded the intense dislike I feel for you to a generalized mild loathing. Now hurry up and fuck me again before your ego gets too big and smothers me.”

“That’s your idea of a compliment?”

“Oh, shut up, Quinn.”

I pull his head down and kiss him hard, and within seconds, he’s forgotten all about it.


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