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Ciaran watches me for a moment longer before standing up from his seat. He takes a few steps towards me, his gaze intense as he stops mere inches away, his pelvis right at my eye level, and his erection straining against the zipper of his suit pants.
Hurriedly, I look away but make the mistake of catching his heated gaze instead. I can feel the air crackling with tension as we lock eyes, neither of us willing to back down. It's a battle of wills, a test to see who will break first. But deep down, I know it's a battle I can't win. I'm at his mercy, trapped in this gilded prison.
Ciaran inches closer, deliberately crowding me, the heat of his body radiating through the thin fabric of my lingerie. His eyes, deep and intense, burn into mine as he speaks in a low, seductive voice, "You're playing with fire, Maricela. I may not be Vito, but I'm not a man who’s easily fooled, and I'm not afraid to show you who's in charge."
My heart races as I take in his words, my defiance crumbling beneath the intensity of his gaze, a powerful reminder of his dominance and control. My eyes flicker downwards, taking in the impressive bulge in his pants, which does things to me I don’t want to admit, and I can't help but let out a shaky sigh.
He sweeps his knuckle across the side of my jaw, down my throat, and over my collarbone, stealing all the air in my lungs, causing goosebumps to erupt across my chest and making my nipples peak.
"What do you want from me?" I whisper, my voice far too breathless.
He smirks, not taking his eyes off me. "Just a little obedience, Maricela. It's not that difficult, is it?" He steps back, but it takes a moment to digest his words since every atom of my being is protesting his withdrawal.
I take a deep gulp of air, trying to gather my thoughts and suppress the confusion and discomfort that's coursing through me and trying my best to make sense of words that seem to have a double meaning.
Or do they? I can’t discount the possibility I’m simply projecting.
As he stands there, staring, Ciaran's words hit me hard. I'm not entirely sure what to make of him, but I do know playing along might be my only ticket out of this mess. I take a deep breath, trying to regain my composure. I can't let him see me crack and everything about this situation is confusing. I'm a prisoner here, largely at Ciaran’s mercy, though I’m apt to forget that. But truthfully, there’s no one here to help me. I know that much. Still, it's difficult to accept Ciaran's ultimatum. It goes against everything within me to capitulate with such ease, but somehow, this man has some freakishly magical ability to turn my intentions inside out, and I feel my resolve weakening with each passing second.
"Fine," I say, my voice no more than a whisper, drowned, almost, by the sound of my pounding heart. “I’ll do what you say for now. But don't think for a second that you've won this game."
Ciaran smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "I never said I wanted to win, Maricela. I just want you to understand your place."
I feel a fire burning inside me, fueled by anger. And that anger is further fueled by the dratted attraction I have for this infuriating man. Especially when he says shit like that while I’m sitting here, debased, in my bridal bra and panties, cursing my attraction, and he just appears completely unaffected.
As if to prove it, he turns on his heels and exits the room, leaving me alone, nearly naked, and deliberately aroused with no hope of any gratification, while the air around me remains thick with tension and the reminder of his power.
Fuck it. Maybe I really should seduce him after all.
Chapter Twenty-One
CIARAN
I need to get out of the room before my crumbling composure deserts me completely.
I’ve told Maricela she’s safe with me, but the truth is, I want to devour her.
My mind is filled with a whirlwind of carnal thoughts. I want to possess her, claim her. And the thought makes me weaker than I'd like to admit. I hate that I feel like I'm running, but it's the only way.
Thankfully no one ever has to know that except me.
"Where's Róisín?" I ask when I find Callum waiting for me outside in the hallway.
"I gave her a stern talking to and left her in her room, but I doubt she'll stay there.”
I nod in agreement. We both know what shenanigans our sister is capable of, incorrigible brat that she is.
As we walk together to the privacy of our family room, by unspoken agreement, I tentatively broach the idea that’s been forming in my mind, unsure how Callum will take it. “Might be better if we negotiate a compromise if we don't want to go through something like this again."
He drags his fingers through his hair, looking as pissed off as I expected. "I was afraid you'd say something stupid like that. You’ve gone soft over the feckin’ woman." he says, his expression darkly accusing. I say nothing and finally he sighs. "What do you have in mind? You know we can’t afford to let Vito's woman walk free.”
I feel myself bristling at my brother's description of Maricela as 'Vito's woman,’ and shake my head, but Cal misunderstands the motion and assumes I object to not letting her go.
"Ciaran, what the feck has gotten into you, boyo. You know we can't afford to let the Viper have any leverage against us. Jesus, what has the damn woman done to you? It’s like she has you under some damn spell. You need to buck up, brother." he says, his voice low and serious.
I scowl and roll my eyes, even though my twin is hitting far too close to the truth than I’m comfortable with. “Fuck off with the heckin’ drama, Cal,” I tell him, stalking over to the wet bar and pouring a healthy nip of whisky for the pair of us. “You’re blowing things out of proportion.”
“Am I though?” he demands, taking the glass I hand him and throwing it back in one.
