Chapter 28

Laine

"What do you mean, you're staying with him? Did being in a shoot-out not show you how dangerous it is to be around a man like Tag Quinn?"

Lying in the crumpled sheets of the Quinn master suite, I stare up at the ornate, tin ceiling above, as the shower turns on.

I hear Patrick's objections and I understand them. I just don't care.

Back in Chicago, I stayed on the right side of things and chose the sensible man and still ended up with armed assassins coming in to kill me in the dead of night.

It might sound crazy to someone on the outside looking in, but I don't care. Despite knowing him for only a week, I feel safe with Tag.

I feel cherished and seen with Tag.

And the man he is seen to be by the people of Dublin is very different than the man he is with me, his brothers, and his staff.

Is he dangerous?

Without a doubt.

Do I think he'd ever be dangerous to me?

No. I don't believe he would. The Quinn Laws aren't just a bunch of well-meaning rules his father passed down to them.

They are the edict to their entire existence.

"I appreciate your concern, Patrick. I just wanted to give you a heads-up that he'll be coming with me next week when I come to spread Mom's ashes. If you or anyone there doesn't feel comfortable being near him, I understand and won't take any offense if they choose not to come."

"And there's nothing I can do to talk sense into you? To get you to reconsider?"

"No. Sorry. Given the string of mistakes I made in Chicago, I'm going with my heart on this one. I just thought I'd let you know."

"Aye, well, I'll let the family know and will speak to Finley about the arrangements. Be careful, cousin. I may think you're off your nut, but that doesn't mean I want to be right about it."

I smile. "Thanks, Patrick. I look forward to seeing you next week."

After hanging up, I roll out of bed and shuffle into the ensuite bathroom to find one very fine Tag Quinn naked and setting a few fluffy towels over the heated rails. "Everything all right, then?"

I zip past him, into the toilet room to pee and slide the pocket door closed to give me a little privacy. "He's worried about me, but fine. He'll be there to join us for Mom's family service and will talk to the others."

"If you'd rather me not come?—"

"Oh, no. You're coming." I flush the toilet and move out to wash my hands. "Maybe being raised in the tougher parts of Chicago gave me a different outlook than my Irish countryside kin, but Mom would've loved you. She was big on taking risks and following your heart. That's why she always hated my choice to be with Marco."

I meet him at the glass door to the shower and peel off his t-shirt, tossing it to the marble island in the center of the space. "Enough about that. Are you washing me or am I washing you?"

He grins and bites his bottom lip. "I am definitely the man with the soap this morning. Although, I might not be completely finished making a mess of you, either."

"You can make as much of a mess as you like, as long as you clean up afterwards."

He grins. "Then what are we waiting for, luv? I've got duties to fulfill."

When he opens the door, I'm washed with a wall of humidity and goosebumps jump up on my skin. Stepping into the massive shower, I walk straight into the stream of warm water and groan at the bliss of the sensation.

Turning back to face him, I tip my head back and let the sluice of water cascade over my hair and down my back. When I reach up to brush over my forehead with my hands, his attention is locked on my breasts rising to greet him and how my nipples stand at attention for his pleasure.

Without wasting a moment, he grabs the vanilla body wash I brought in my toiletries kit, and he lathers up his hands.

"You know, if we start every morning like this, I'll need to start getting up earlier or run the risk of missing appointments."

I turn to give him my back and he pulls me tight to his body, reaching around my ribs to lather my chest and belly with his soapy hands. "Then I think you should plan on that because I love starting the morning like this."

His grip around me tightens and he nips my neck as he grinds his stiff cock against my ass. "Och, no more than I do, luv."

Wandering hands, steamy spray, and grinding hips make the next minutes a decadent affair.

It's insane how turned on I get with him. And thankfully, in the shower, I don't have to be embarrassed about the moisture soaking my core and wetting my underpants.

In here, everything is wet, so the way he makes me cream myself is my little secret.

Or at least it is until he reaches around me and removes the main shower head from its housing. "Have you ever had the pleasure of a shower head massage, luv?"

I look up and behind my shoulder to meet his gaze. "Nope."

He flashes me a wicked grin and winks. "Then get ready for enlightenment because this beautiful beast has some incredible settings."

I don't know what to say about that, but it's a moot point because the moment he lowers his hand, the pulsing pressure between my legs explodes.

A shout tears from the back of my throat, but there's no helping it. I drop my head back against his chest and close my eyes. "That feels good. Sooo good."

A husky chuckle sounds beside my ear. "We're just getting started, luv. Hold onto the sprayer while I get ready to fuck you from behind."

"Yes, sir." I take possession of the shower head while he steps back and rolls on a condom. Normally, I like to watch, but I'm completely possessed by the pulsating rhythm massaging my clit and folds.

"Now, open your legs and brace your hands against the tile," Tag commands, stealing the shower head away from me again.

I whimper at the loss, and he chuckles. "Do as I say, and I'll make it worth your while."

I don't doubt that for a moment.

Tag Quinn is a next-level lover, and though he worried he would get addicted to me, it's definitely me who is a panting, orgasmic mess over him.

He steps in behind me and splays a firm hand on my abdomen while he bends his knees and pushes his cock through my moisture and into my core. "Fuckin' hell, you are always so wet for me."

Anticipation has me rising on my toes to give him easier access, but I needn't worry. His cock knows exactly where it needs to go and is filling my pussy in a moment, just like I love.

"Och, that's better."

It is. It's so good.

"Breathe, luv. Don't forget to breathe."

As crazy as it sounds, I lost all sense of self-preservation and had forgotten to take a breath. "You feel so good inside me."

"Aye, we are made for one another. Now, bend forward and brace yourself. I need to fuck your pretty little pussy, or I might lose my mind."

The husky tone of his voice sends a shiver down my spine. It doesn't even enter my mind not to obey. I've learned over the past week that when he gets like this, his hunger spills over and the sex is next level.

Pressing my palms against the cool tile of the shower wall, I brace myself as he begins a penetrating rhythm of in and out.

My insides light up, my inner muscles gripping him so tightly, I feel every inch of him moving inside me. The sensation is possessive and fills me up—and then he reaches around my hip.

The moment the pulsing streams of water hits my clit, the need building inside me explodes. It's so good, I'm going to come. But I don't want it to end. But it's building so fast. I'm going to come so hard.

I bite down on my bottom lip, trying to keep from detonating too soon. It's impossible. "Oh, Tag, yes!"

Waves of pleasure cascade over me as my clit throbs and his cock penetrates, hitting something sinful deep inside me.

My legs shake with the force of the release but his iron arm around my hips keeps me from falling to an orgasmic heap at his feet.

"That's. My. Precious. Girl," he says, each word punctuated by a grunt and a powerful thrust of his hips. "Ride your pleasure straight into another release. You've got more in you. I feel how greedy your cunt is. Come apart for me again."

I've never had a multiple orgasm before—never even considered it—but as his demand resonates within me and he continues his punishing rhythm of slide and glide, my body responds.

From my cry tearing from my throat down to my toes, I give myself over to him. He's told me a dozen times that he has me, and he does.

As the world explodes around me a second time, his hips thrust forward and lock. His body stiffens behind me, and his throaty grunt echoes around us as he loses himself along with me.

His hold around my ribs becomes crushing, but I don't care. He's so lost in his pleasure—a pleasure that I gave him—that he is gone with desire.

It's incredible.

It takes a long moment before the two of us can breathe well enough to step apart and then, he removes the spent condom, washes the two of us up, and turns off the water. "That was perfection, luv. I'm honored to have you share your body with me like that."

It seems like I get the better end of the deal, but I keep that opinion to myself.

The air beyond the shower is downright chilly after being contained in the steam of the spray. Grabbing a towel off the heated rail, Tag wraps it snugly around my body and I tuck it tight so it doesn't slip off.

He takes another towel and moves behind me, gathering my hair in the plush folds. As he wrings out the excess water, I watch our reflection in the mirror and smile.

"We look good like this."

Tag meets my gaze in the mirror and grins. "Freshly fucked, you mean?"

I chuckle. "Well, that, but also hot and sexy and happy."

He finishes toweling my hair and wraps his arms around me, the two of us lost in the image before us. "We more than look hot and sexy, luv. I knew I'd get addicted to you the moment I had you, but what's happening between us is next level. And as for happy…well, I don't know if that word even begins to cover what I feel."

I lay my arms over where he's holding me. "I don't want this to end."

"There's no chance of that. You are mine, Laine. Mine to desire. Mine to protect. And mine to take care of for as long as the universe sees fit to bless me with the honor of having you. There is no end. This is just the beginning."