Carnal Urges (Queens & Monsters Book 2)

“So what do you think?”

I’m standing in the middle of a master bedroom larger than my entire apartment, staring through floor-to-ceiling windows at rolling sand dunes and the restless sea beyond. It’s dark outside, but a bright moon floods the beach with ghostly light and reflects off the water. Waves crash onto the shore with repeated, muffled booms.

I say quietly, “I think it’s the most beautiful home I’ve ever seen.”

Declan comes up silently from behind and wraps his strong arms around me. He kisses the side of my neck, tickling my skin with his beard. In a husky voice, he says, “I’m glad you like it.”

My laugh is faint. “I mean, it’s a little on the small side. And who could sleep with all the racket from the ocean? That’s so not relaxing.”

He chuckles. “Everything you need is already here. Clothes. Toiletries. Rabbit food. Anything else you want, just tell me.”

I close my eyes and draw a steadying breath. Every minute I spend with this man challenges my equilibrium. “Thank you. I’m…overwhelmed.”

He pulls my head back and takes my mouth, kissing me hungrily, his arm like a vise. When I tremble, he kisses me harder. I lean into him with a sigh, and he wraps a hand around my throat.

“I’m gonna give you everything, baby. Everything in the whole world.”

His voice is hot and rough. He spins me around and grabs my ass, pulling me against his chest. Then he kisses me again, this time with more intention. As he walks me backward toward the bed, his erection digs into my hip.

I break the kiss, laughing. “We just had sex two hours ago.”

“I’m gonna tie you up and make you come on my face. Are you complaining?”

“Your face? You know I said I had a tampon in.”

“It won’t be in the way of my tongue.”

Thrilled by the need in his voice, I say, “That’s very dirty, sir. And very hot.”

“I love the way you taste. A little cotton plug won’t stop me from putting my mouth on you.”

We stop at the edge of the bed. He pulls off the jacket I’m wearing and tosses it aside. My shirt follows. He strips me out of the rest of my clothes and pushes me to a sitting position on the lovely white silk duvet.

Unlike his bachelor pad, this home is done entirely in shades of white and champagne, with touches of aqua and blush in the artwork and accessories. All the fixtures and finishes are in subtle, burnished gold. It’s a very beachy house, and a feminine one.

Maybe Martha Stewart needed a quick extra dozen million or two.

Declan takes my chin firmly in his hand. Staring up at him with a hammering heartbeat, I lick my lips, my nipples tightening. Heat pulses between my legs.

He doesn’t speak as he unbuckles his belt with his free hand, sliding it through the belt loops until he’s standing there with it dangling by his side.

“Say it again.”

His voice has changed. I recognize it, this dominant tone. I know what he wants.

“Sir.”

“Ask me to spank you.”

“Please spank me, sir.”

“Are you sore from earlier from my hand?”

“Yes, sir. It doesn’t matter. I want more.”

“And you’re going to get more, baby. You’ll get as much as you can take.”

His eyes are so needy and dark, so frighteningly beautiful. My pulse goes from skipping to pounding painfully. He leans down and kisses me ferociously, his fingers twisted in my hair.

Then he pushes me flat to my back with his big hand splayed over my chest, kneels on the floor between my legs, and spreads me open with his thumbs.

His leather belt rests over my naked hip and belly, the loveliest of warnings.

He puts his mouth on my clit and gently sucks. His mouth is hot, wet, and wonderful.

When I moan, he pulls away and slaps my inner thigh. Pleasure ripples through my pussy. My clit throbs.

Eyes closed, I whisper, “Please, sir. Please.”

“You want more of that?”

“More of everything. More of you.”

“I’ll need you to be good, baby. I’ll need you to be quiet.”

“I will. I promise.”

He slaps my thigh again, making me jerk. I say breathlessly, “I mean, I promise, sir.”

He smooths his hand over the sting on my skin. His breathing has changed. It’s as ragged as mine is.

“I don’t think you will, angel. I think you need a little help.”

I hear the slither of fabric, and soon enough, Declan’s hands are at my face.

He winds his tie around my jaw and knots it, gagging me.

I whimper, writhing against the bed. He leans next to my ear.

“Hush. You’re mine. I’ll take care of you. Ready?”

I whimper again, and he kisses my cheek. “Remember, you’re being worshipped. All of it is in service to you, because I know what you need.”

He straightens, rolls me onto my belly, and whips my bare ass with his belt.

It’s a single blow, and shocking. The snap of pain is white-hot. My eyes fly open and my back arches. I holler a muffled curse at him through his tie.

He pushes me down with a hand in the middle of my back. “If you want me to stop, nod.”

I stay frozen, my heart pounding. Heat blooms in a pulsing stripe over my skin where the belt struck. My mind is utter chaos. An explosion at a fireworks factory. I can’t think straight or catch my breath.

All I know is that I don’t want him to stop. I want him to do it again. And again.

And again.

Trembling all over, I shake my head.

Declan exhales. “I’ll do a few more, then stop and check in with you. Don’t come. Ready?”

I curl my hands into the duvet and nod.

The blows come fast and hard. The sound it makes in the quiet room is as shocking as the sensation. When it’s over, my ass is on fire, I’m hyperventilating and shaking like mad, and also very close to orgasm.

Declan rolls me to my back and shoves his face between my legs, sucking my clit like it’s oxygen.

My mind blinks offline.

I dig my hands into his hair and buck my hips, grinding against his mouth, not caring if I’ll suffocate him, not caring about anything but chasing the burn and relieving the agonizing ache.

I need to come so bad, I’m almost sobbing.

He pulls away, panting. “Such a bad girl,” he says, sounding thrilled by my reaction. “You deserve another spanking.”

Opening my eyes, I stare up at him. I put my hand between my legs and stroke my shaking fingers over my wet, swollen clit.

He slaps my hand away rolls me onto my belly again, then gives me another five hard blows with the belt.

It’s almost unbearable, both in how much it hurts and how much it makes my entire pussy pulse and tingle. It’s glorious and dirty, and I know I’ll be so bruised, I might not be able to sit for days, but holy fuck, how I love it.

I can’t help myself. I start to desperately grind against the bed.

“No, baby,” says Declan, chuckling darkly. “So sweet. So needy. But not yet.”

He smooths a hand over my burning ass, stroking the curves of it and crooning. Then he flips me onto my back again and straddles me, gathering my wrists in his hands.

He winds his belt around my wrists, tucks the ends under, and pins my arms overhead. Leaning down into my face, he stares deep into my eyes. His own are feverish.

“I’m gonna lick your pussy until you’re crying for me to let you orgasm. But I won’t let you. You can’t until I say you can. Understood?”

I know this delay is part of it, part of how he’ll make the sensation that much more intense for me. The longer I can hold back, the better the climax will ultimately be.

I’d still like to kick him in the nuts.

Seeing the fury and uncontrolled lust in my eyes, he smiles. Then he straightens, unzips his trousers, and takes out his stiff cock. He strokes it lazily, gazing down at me.

He keeps stroking it as he moves backward and kneels between my legs, then starts licking me again, his jutting cock thick and hard in his fist.

I want to suck on it. I want him to fuck me with it. I want him to make me choke on it while he spanks me with his belt. I’m out of my mind with need and euphoria, riding a cresting wave of pleasure as his tongue flicks and licks and he jerks himself off on his knees between my spread thighs.

The light in the room glows brighter. The crashing of the waves outside grows louder. My eyes roll back into my head.

Uh-oh. I’ll be punished for this.

If I’m lucky.

With a full body jerk and a scream muffled by his silk tie, I orgasm hard. My pussy contracts and convulses. My body bows against the bed.

As if from far away, I hear Declan curse. I feel a tug and a pull, and the tampon is gone. He falls on top of me, biting the soft flesh under my nipple and shoving his cock deep inside my body with an animal’s territorial roar.

With a hand around my throat, he thrusts hard and fast as I come, and come, and come, bucking wildly underneath him.

“Baby. Ah, fuck, baby. I love the way you feel.”

He’s panting, pistoning into me, fucking me as I ride out the most intense climax I’ve ever had. The muscles in my ass cramp from clenching. The line between pain and pleasure blurs as he bites my nipples and squeezes my throat until I’m gasping.

He shudders. Moans long and low next to my ear. With one final thrust, he spills himself inside me, speaking in passionate, garbled Gaelic as he does.

“Tá tú mianach, cailín milis. Mianach.”

He tucks his face into my neck and whispers my name like a prayer.

I wonder how I ever thought I’d known happiness before.

When we’ve finally both caught our breath and stopped shaking, Declan withdraws from me carefully, unwinds his necktie from around my jaw, and kisses me gently. Then he tells me not to move.

I lie staring at the ceiling as he goes into the bathroom, picking up the discarded tampon along the way. I hear water running. After a while, he returns, minus his clothing. In his left hand is a towel. In his right is a wet washcloth.

I close my eyes as he silently cleans me between my legs and dries me with the towel.

When I hear the sound of a paper wrapper tearing, I say, “I’m not going to let you put that in.”

He says softly, “Show me how.”

“God, no.”

“Total trust, remember?”

“Nice try, Casanova. Even my gynecologist doesn’t have those privileges, and I’ve been spreading my legs for him for years.”

He chuckles and relents. “Give me your wrists.”

I lower my arms from above my head, and he unfastens his belt, releasing me. He rubs my wrists, then kisses both my palms, one at a time. It’s a sweet gesture, a nurturing one, and it makes me feel treasured.

Gazing at me with soft eyes, he murmurs, “You’re so beautiful, lass.”

I smile at him. “So beautifully sore.”

“I’ll get you aspirin. And some cream.”

He goes into the bathroom again, giving me time to insert the tampon he left beside me on the bed. I grimace when I see what’s become of the poor duvet underneath me and roll over, kicking it to one side. I flip it over on itself and push it off to the floor.

When Declan returns, holding a glass of water in one hand and a bottle of lotion in the other, he sees me lying there on top of the sheets, the duvet discarded. He quirks an eyebrow.

“It looked like a crime scene.”

“It’s only blood.”

His tone is entirely nonchalant. I think of the blood on the collar of his shirt, realizing he’s numb to the sight of it because he’s seen it so much. Like an emergency room doctor.

Or someone who kills people for a living.

He sets everything on the nightstand, helps me to a sitting position, drops two aspirin into my palm, and hands me the glass. I’m so thirsty, I drink the entire thing.

He takes the glass away and gently pushes me back down again, rolling me onto my belly. Resting my cheek on the pillow, I close my eyes as he lightly rubs lotion into my burning skin.

“You have the most perfect arse I’ve seen in my life.”

Sated and drowsy, my limbs heavy and my heart full, I have just enough strength to laugh. “Right? It should really be memorialized in plaster. No, something longer lasting. Cast in bronze.”

His chuckle is low. “Someday you’ll tell me how you got that self-confidence.”

“You have self-confidence, too.”

“It can’t hold a candle to yours.”

“Like your IQ.”

“I’ll let that go for now, considering the state of your arse, but I won’t forget it.”

We’re quiet for a while as he continues to carefully spread the lotion all over my throbbing cheeks. It’s strange that hands used to such rough business as his can be so tender.

“Declan?”

“Aye?”

“I don’t want you to die.”

The hand rubbing my ass cheek stills, then slides down to my upper thigh and squeezes.

He says quietly, “I can’t promise I won’t.”

“Have you ever thought about quitting?”

His pause is so long, I start to get nervous. But I don’t move an inch. I simply wait, my heartbeat picking up speed.

“A man can’t quit the thing that makes him who he is.”

“A gangster isn’t who you are. It’s what you do. There’s a difference.”

There’s another long pause, this one charged with tension. It’s like he’s fighting with himself over what to say. When he speaks again, his voice is so low, I have to strain to hear it.

“Tell me I can trust you with my life and mean it, and I’ll tell you if I’ve ever thought about quitting. And what would happen if I did.”

I turn my face to the pillow and exhale the breath I’ve been holding. “Tell me I won’t have to choose between you and Nat and mean it, and I’ll say you can trust me with your life.”

“It’s not only her you’d be choosing. It’s everything and everyone else.”

I whisper, “I know.”

“I’d never ask you to make that choice, lass.” He pauses. “But she might.”

“No fucking way she would.”

“The Irish Mob killed Kazimir’s entire family. Did you know that?”

Stunned, I look over my shoulder at him. “What?”

He nods. “His parents were murdered over a missed protection payment. And both his young sisters, too.” He looks away. His voice lowers. “They had other things done to them before they died. Worse things. They sent Kazimir the pictures.”

I think I might be sick. “Do you know the people who did that?”

“They’re dead. Kazimir killed them all.”

“Oh god.”

“It was a long time ago. I’d just barely joined the ranks. I didn’t personally know the men involved, but it makes no difference to Kazimir. The Irish murdered his family. His hatred for us runs deep.”

“But all you guys cooperate with each other in business.”

“Sometimes. Other times, we kill each other. If he had the chance, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill me.”

I roll onto my side and prop myself up on an elbow. “And you wouldn’t hesitate to kill him.”

His face darkens. I take that as a yes.

“You can’t hurt him, Declan.”

He looks at me for a moment, eyes flinty, then says, “Lass.”

“Don’t say that like I’m being absurd. You’re the one who said you’d promise me anything.”

“And you’re the one who hasn’t said I can trust you with my life.”

Anger makes my cheeks flush. “So it’s tit for tat?”

“No. Trust can’t be negotiated.”

Despite trying to keep it calm, my voice rises. “Natalie’s my best friend. She’s in love with him. If anything happens to him, it will kill her.”

He exhales a short, derisive burst of air through his nose. “Then she signed up for the wrong relationship. He’s got as many targets on his back as I do.”

“He could have one less.”

“You have no idea what you’re asking.”

“I know exactly what I’m asking, and the answer is a simple yes or no.”

“Then the answer is no.”

It’s cold, hard, and leaves me breathless.

Examining my expression with icy eyes, he says, “We’re enemies. We’re killers. Where did you think that story would end?”

In heartbreak, obviously, for everyone involved.

I roll over, away from him, curling into a ball against the pain.