Chapter Five
Katriona
Through it all, Sylan doesn’t release my mouth from his claiming kiss. He thrusts his tongue inward groaning into my mouth. I meet each stroke of his tongue with my own and then I’m torn away. Another mouth claiming mine in another possessive kiss. Rough hands and strong arms send my heart rate soaring. Seeking caresses run over my body and I’m drowning in so many emotions I don’t know who’s arms I’m in, whose mouth is taking mine until I pry my eyes open to find Drake peering down at me with such a soul-searing heat I’m left with nothing but the need to taste him again. Taste them.
He lowers me to the floor And I'm surrounded. It is comforting and confusing all at once.
With a sputtered gasp I push out of their arms, though I’m not completely sure I don’t want their hands on me. My body is on high alert waiting for one of us to take this further.
All of us heave and gasp for air but it’s Sylan who regains his composure first. “A feistiness to match the Irish blood. Such a treat. I’m not sure we’re not getting the better deal here, men.” He strokes a thumb over my lip and I look on as he pulls it back to his mouth.
“Irish indeed,” he groans.
I hiss through clenched teeth at the very mention of my father's roots. “It has nothing to do with my Irish blood, I assure you.”
Sylan ran a finger under my chin. “You sure about that?” Bending, his lips lighten on mine once more, luring a surge of lust to the surface.
He makes quick work of righting my skirt and helping me fix the bodice back over my ample breasts.
"Later, when we have you all to ourselves, there won't be any stopping us from tasting you thoroughly."
I believe him. The darkly growled promise reaches into my soul and burns a reminder for me to keep close to my heart. Why it matters to me to have these men want me so much I don't know, but I'll deep dive into all the mental luggage later.
Instead of letting my runaway thoughts take control, I force myself to focus.
I smile politely though I can taste the remnants of whiskey on my tongue from our kiss and it’s hard to ignore. “If you know my father then you know he cares nothing about me. I’m the wrong person to help get what you want. He’d probably sell me off if it rid him of any kind of responsibility.” I’m hesitant to ask, but can’t help myself. “Why do you care about him anyway? He’s on his side of the city and you on yours.” I don’t understand the politics of territories but I’m starting to see I need to change that real fast.
Grey takes the lead on this one. “He owes us something.”
I’m starting to connect the dots. “That was you today, wasn’t it? Outside my apartment? My father dropped by today and seemed to bring an unwanted guest with him. A black car.”
Drake exchanges looks with the other two then shakes his head. “Feds most likely. Your father likes to entertain a lot of enemies. But I assure you if it was us anywhere near where you live, we would not have stayed in the car like some slithering snake waiting to strike.”
“Nor would we have let this happen.” Grey points to my arm, wearing a smug smile. “Not our style.”
“What’s not your style? Roughhousing women, stalking people? What? Luring a waitress to your office to kiss the hell out of them?” I can feel the hysteria from earlier return.
All three go silent, giving my heart ample time to jackhammer out of my chest with all the possible answers rushing through my head.
“Breathe and drink this.”
Someone presses a drink into my hand. I do as I’m told and take it. Two swallows and I down the liquid. Flames lick the back of my throat but I don’t flinch. Just welcome to biting distraction for what it is. Liquid courage.
“I need to leave. I don't belong here.”
Sylan growls, runs a hand through my hair, ruining the bun Nikki styled for me. Long blonde hair falls to my shoulders and it’s in his hands. Fingers buried deep, he clutches me close to his chest. My heart rattles and I can’t breathe.
Green eyes turn so dark I can see my reflection stare back at me.
“You still don’t get it." His tone turns cold, ruthless. “Get one thing through your head, Ms. Kane. Until we get what we want from your father, you’re ours to do with as we please. You’re ours.”
I can feel the tingle of power skate over my skin. He means what he says. My hands dig into the material of his shirt and I’m holding him just as tightly as he does me.
Gazes holding, he brushes his lips over mine. A soft touch contrasting his harsh words. Not commanding or dangerous. But almost like a matter of fact. I’m theirs and he just sealed it with a kiss.
Then he releases me into Drake and Grey’s hold. Each slide a possessive hand over me—one around my waist to settle over my stomach, the other on my hip.
Their message is clear. I’m not going anywhere.