Chapter 23

People start runningtoward the exits, in fear for their life as the man—no, not just any man, but Devlin—stands there with a gun in his hand.

Security locks the doors, not allowing anyone out, while my eyes never leave his.

It can't be him…

How could he not tell me? How could he pretend this whole time! The things he did to me…here!

I can't think straight.

"What have you done?" I whisper to him as his eyes connect with mine.

I know he can read lips. But he doesn't say anything in return, his body rocking with heavy breaths as men surround him, their guns pointed at his head.

At any moment, one of them could pull the trigger!

A door slams in the distance, heavy footsteps thundering, and the room starts to go quiet until a man I've already met, the owner of the club, stands on top of the stage.

Too close to me.

Esther grips my arm while my pulse thuds with harrowing speed. Whatever is about to happen won't be good for either of us.

The owner slips off his mask, not a care in the world that everyone can now see him. The hollows beneath his cheekbones deepen from the tension on his face.

"Oh, what a pity…" he tsks, staring down blankly at the dead, bleeding body. "I didn't expect so much excitement tonight, but here we are." He throws a hand in the air, his icy grin sending wafting terror down my spine. "You've created such a mess, my old friend."

The guards move on Devlin while he stares back at the boss who clutches a weapon at his side.

"Do you realize who you've killed?" The owner climbs down the steps of the stage and starts toward Devlin as the guests panic in his wake, moving as far away as possible, like they're parting the sea.

Not a pin drop can be heard except for the music coming from the rest of the club.

"Don't worry. We will clean this up for you. But you see…" He grabs the collar of Devlin's shirt, his chuckle a deadly sound. "Now you owe me three million dollars. And congratulations. You're now the proud owner of Eriu's virginity."

"Don't bloody do this," Devlin grits, pushing his hand off.

Do what?

My heart leaps into my throat. I just want to go home with Devlin!

"You're the one who came to my club and shot one of the most powerful men in my circle." He releases his grip on Devlin, straightening the lapels of his suit jacket. "So, you see, now you're at my mercy, and you will do exactly what I say."

He reaches into his waistband and removes a gun before he points it right at me.

"Or you and the Irish princess die right here in front of all these people."

Women gasp. Some cry.

"You feckin' savage," Devlin growls, raising his weapon at the man.

"I'd be very careful where I was pointing that thing. Wouldn't want to give my men the wrong idea. Wouldn't be good for anyone, do you think?"

The boss lowers his hand, and I breathe a sigh when the gun is no longer ready to kill me. But we're screwed. Devlin must know that.

The owner glances around the room, at all the people in fear for their lives, and he grins. "Ladies and gentlemen, you must excuse this awful interruption. I promise to make it up to you, and we shall start right now. I think that will put us all in a good mood."

His tone is sinister, and my fear only grows.

"Our friend here has feelings for that woman on stage, the one who was about to sell her most prized possession. Now it's his." His laugh rakes at my skin. "And neither of them will be going anywhere until he claims it."

"What?" I peer at Esther, who shushes me.

What does he mean, claims it?

"I have decided to change the rules of the game, though. This one time, due to my friend's lack of manners…" He narrows his glare at Devlin. "You'll all get to watch as this beautiful girl's virginity is taken. Right here on stage."

"No!" I gasp, my body shaking, my feet backing off.

But Esther is there, snapping her fingers around my forearm, keeping me where I am.

"You're not going anywhere," she whisper-shouts. "You do as the boss says or you die."

"I—I can't do this," I cry.

"You don't have a choice." There's no compassion in her tone. She doesn't care.

No one here does. No one but Devlin.

"I'm not doing it." Devlin's eyes fill with rage. "You're gonna have to kill me, Konstantin."

Konstantin. Even his name sounds terrifying. I don't miss the fact that they know each other.

"If you insist," Konstantin muses. "But I will start with her, and I will make it brutal. So choose."

Then he's pointing the gun at me again, and tears well in my eyes, my breaths heaving.

"No!" I shake my head. "Please don't kill me!"

"Daragaya…" He gives me what one would describe as a tender look, but he's all devil. "I'm not the one killing you. He is." His attention snaps to Devlin. "You're in my fucking world now. So choose. Do what I said, or I kill you both."

"You're a feckin' sick bastard!" Devlin grits.

"I do enjoy the occasional compliment. But now is not the time." He inclines his chin, and his men grab Devlin. "My employees are bringing a sofa for your comfort. I cannot wait for the show."

A few seconds later, the curtains at the far end of the stage part as two men drag a blue velvet sofa out and place it in the center of the stage. One of them tosses a small box on top of it, and I can tell it's condoms.

My blood curdles. How will I do this? How can I?

My first time in front of all these people, and with Devlin? Oh my God. Everything is a mess.

"Let's go!" Konstantin howls, a vein popping in his temple.

The men shove Devlin forward, and even through the mask, I look at him, silently praying that we both make it out of here alive.

"Feck!" Devlin snaps, because he knows we don't have a choice.

Only a few feet remain between us, then he's climbing up the steps.

Konstantin jerks his head at Esther, and she disappears behind the stage.

"Eriu…" He takes my hands in his. "I'm so bloody sorry."

"It's okay," I whisper, slipping off my mask and dropping it at my feet. "I was going to do this anyway. It's better that it's with you."

My limbs tremble, and I fight to keep a brave face.

"I'm gonna do everything I can to shield you from the crowd. I promise." His knuckles dust over my cheek so tenderly, tears ache behind my eyes.

The room remains silent, and when I glance at the audience behind him, I find Konstantin sitting front and center. His arms are crossed over his well-built chest, his expression cunning as his eyes land on us.

Devlin drags me to the sofa, and I lower onto it, moving the box of condoms to the corner.

With a strain of his breath, his hands go to the mask, and he finally rips it off. And once I'm able to look into his eyes, tears fill mine.

I've waited for this moment for years, and now it's ruined.

"Don't cry, love. Your tears are enough to kill me." He tosses the mask onto the floor, his thumbs gently swiping under my eyes.

I nod as his lips fall to my forehead, remaining there, causing me to cry silently even more.

"You don't know how sorry I am." He holds my face between his palms. "But we don't have another option. He will kill us both."

"I know that. It's okay, Devlin."

He closes his eyes for a moment, kissing me on the forehead one last time before he pushes my body down and settles his large one over it. My legs instinctively circle his hips.

"This is not how your first time should be, mo stoirín."

My heart skips a beat.

He drags his knuckles across my jaw, dropping his mouth so close to mine, I can almost feel it. "But I promise to make it special for you. And I swear I won't let any of those bastards see an inch of you."

I nod, unable to fight my emotions, fight the tears, the humiliation of it all. Yet in my despair, there's some semblance of joy because I'm with Devlin, the man I've loved since forever.

He rips open the box of condoms and removes one, handing it to me while he reaches between our bodies and undoes his belt, his eyes never leaving mine.

"I don't deserve this," he whispers, groaning before he kisses me, like he can't stand the thought of not doing it.

Sharp palpitations grow in my chest. This is happening. This is finally happening.

"I don't deserve you." Raw emotions embed into the depths of his gaze. "I never have and I never will. And I'll always be sorry I'm taking this away from you. That you're not willingly giving it to me."

I shake my head, the back of my nose stinging as I place a hand over the stubble riding across his cheek.

"Don't you get it, Devlin?" My words are hushed, hoping that this conversation is solely between us. "You're the one I've always wanted to give myself to. I've hoped for this moment for so long, and now that it's here, I don't care how we got here. I just see you."

I push my mouth up to his, and I'm the one kissing him. And he lets me, staying still as I do, like he wants to feel it.

"You were always the one for me, Devlin McHale."

A low and approving growl vibrates against my mouth as he kisses me so hungrily, so full of passion and want, that I forget where we are. I forget what I did to get us there. All I know and want and feel is this man, the sensation of his touch, the embers that burn when we shine brightly together.

And in the end, isn't that what matters? Isn't that what people dream their whole lives to feel just once? And here I am, feeling it all.

He pitches back, heaving and breathless, his gaze a liquid pool of desire, of need, of unspoken longing. He's wanted this as much as I have.

"I'm scared," I confess on a throaty whisper.

"I know you are." He drops his lips to my forehead and drags a deep breath. "Don't be. You're always safe with me."

"I know that," I breathe. "I've always known that."

Slowly, I tug his pants and boxers down while he takes the condom from me, ripping off the wrapper with his teeth.

Those eyes, they steal every breath from my lungs, and I'd give up everything just to have him look at me this way all the time—like I'm his world.

His hardness presses into me there, and my core throbs for more, needing to feel full.

I force myself to forget where we are, focusing on his blue eyes instead, jutting my hips, wanting to feel his hard-on deeper.

He groans, dropping his forehead to mine. "You keep moving like that and I'm gonna feck you so hard that we'll really put on a show."

My teeth sink around my lower lip as he discreetly slips into the condom.

He yanks my dress up between us, all the way to my hips, a finger stroking between my thighs.

I gasp from the zap of sensations, remembering the way he touched me not once, not twice, but three times before. I want to ask how he could lie to me, how he could pretend to be someone else, but that would be impossible at the moment. Not when all I need is to come.

His lips drop to the shell of my ear. "I think we need to discuss the importance of wearing panties, love."

He pushes his finger all the way inside me, my mouth widening from how good it feels. I let out a gasp as he adds another finger, and his teeth sink around my lobe.

"Gonna stretch you out a little first so you can take me better."

"Mm-hmm…" I pinch my eyes closed, not wanting all those people to hear me.

My God, they're still watching.

He takes one of my legs and pushes my foot down onto the floor, opening me up. The other remains pressed to his back, my heel digging into his behind.

His eyes bore into mine just as the crown of his cock dips into my entrance. I inhale sharply at the burning sensation, and he's not even inside.

"Don't worry, baby girl. I've got you." His hand lowers between our bodies, and I can feel him grab his erection. "Just look into my eyes and don't let go."

I nod, doing what he said.

"That's it. That's my good girl."

He works himself an inch inside and the throbbing pain rips through me. I grimace and hiss uncomfortably.

"Feck, I'm sorry." His anguish swallows his emotions, as though it's killing him to know I'm hurting.

"It's okay. Keep going." My lips flicker even as the stinging grows.

He's so thick, or maybe I'm too tight. Yet there's also this pleasure that's beginning to bloom.

His hand reaches between us, and his finger is there on my clit, slowly drawing circles.

I let out a moan, and my eyes round as I remember we aren't alone. I want to care, I really do, but it's impossible when he makes me feel so good.

"Will it hurt a lot more than this?"

"It could," he says, our eyes locked while he continues to touch me there, making this more palpable. He drops a kiss to the tip of my nose. "If you need to scream, bite into my shoulder, okay?"

I nod, unable to calm my racing pulse.

"Just do it," I pant. "Please. I can't take another second of waiting."

I'm scared, yet I want this so badly. I don't even care about the pain anymore.

He works himself in another inch as he continues to touch me there, and pain begins to morph into pleasure, like I'm floating.

Before I can think about whether he'll even fit, he thrusts inside me in one hard move. I let out a scream, biting into his shoulder, my body shaking from the feeling of pain and pleasure twining into one.

"You okay?" Concern lines his face, and I cup his cheek and nod.

"Keep going and don't stop."

"Are you sure?"

He sinks in deeper, and I feel myself stretch to accommodate his width.

"So good…" I stifle a moan. "Please…"

My fingernails rake his back; I need this man everywhere. He circles his hips, staring hungrily at my mouth before he slips out of me and slams back in.

Hard.

It still hurts, but it's less now, the feeling of pleasure overtaking me.

"More," I whimper.

He refuses to take his eyes off me, something carnal and possessive within them.

"I'm goin' straight to hell for this," he mutters, arousal coating his tone.

"Then take me with you."

With a deep-chested growl, he captures my mouth with his, kissing me with maddening passion, his body and mine as one as he pistons into me until every nerve ending I possess fires off.

I didn't think it was possible to ever feel this full, this wanted.

"So bloody tight," he rumbles, fingers fisting my hair as he pumps into me even faster, and I no longer much care about the pain.

His palm wraps around the side of my neck, thumb tipping up the underside of my jaw to kiss me deeper. His warm tongue sinks inside me, dancing with mine. I don't know if I'm even doing this right, but I don't seem to care, lost in the moment.

Lost in us.

His promise of being gentle is long gone as his hips pound into me, the sound of skin against skin echoing, his grunting desperate and masculine.

"You feel like bloody heaven," he rasps against my throat, kissing me there, my own cries of pleasure escaping past my lips.

This pulsating feeling grows inside my body, my limbs tingling, my core filling with a sensation I can't name. I've never felt anything like this. And I already can't wait to have more of it. More of him.

I moan against his mouth, no longer caring that a crowd of people is watching, that the man who made us do this is seeing me this way. That Karen is. That Adam is. It no longer matters at all.

He rams inside me, biting my lower lip, lips scorching down my chin before he takes my mouth again.

His thrusting increases and my moans are electrified, and he devours each one.

He wrenches back an inch, his lips drifting over my jaw. "I can feel you about to come, love. I can't wait to watch you give me what I've been dying for."

"Oh, God," I cry out, my back bowing, this feeling of something within me about to burst becoming stronger.

It's the same feeling I felt when he fingered me.

"Pleasepleaseplease…" I plead, not recognizing my own voice.

"You sound good beggin' for it. And I could listen to you beggin' for my cock all bloody night. But now I need you to come. Think you can do that for me, sweetheart?"

His finger returns to my clit, and he plays me so well, like he knows every inch of me. My body, my heart, my soul…all his, forever.

"Devlin!" I cry, as he coaxes me into the most powerful release.

I quiver and moan, and instead of kissing the sounds away, he gazes down with a fierce possessiveness. Like he wants the world to hear me.

"Beautiful," he whispers, his tempo unrelenting. "So beautiful and all mine. And the only thing I regret is this condom."

"Wha— Oh, God!"

He grabs a fistful of my hair and fucks me roughly. That sensation overtakes me again, growing until I'm whimpering his name.

"Devlin! Wha-what's happening?"

He chuckles under his breath. "Making you come one more time, mo stoirín."

"What does that mean? Mo stoirín? You…you always call me that."

He works my clit, using two fingers, rubbing me faster. And this time I'm more sensitive, needing the release badly.

"Yes, keep going!" I cry, forgetting my question already.

He groans, our eyes aligned, my heartbeats pounding right before I let go, screaming his name as he throws me over the edge.

Moments later, he's joining me.

Then reality sets in.

Crap.