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I glare at him, holding his gaze with an edge of determination. “Yes, you are. I have no intention of letting her walk out of her. Maricela is collateral, nothing more, I understand that, and I’m offended you think differently. But we both know what Róisín’s capable of if she gets a bee in her bonnet. Look at what happened today. Better to make our own rules and be in control.”
“So, tell me your idea,” he demands, still looking like he doesn’t believe me. And maybe he’s got a point when it comes to Maricela, because God knows the woman has me conflicted. But he damn well knows I’m right about our sister. If she gets the hump about this situation, she’ll absolutely pull something, and that he can’t deny.
“I’m thinking we allow Róisín to take her out to limited, specified locations within the compound, with the escort of a guard.”
Callum growls, and it's clear he's not convinced. I raise my hand when he opens his mouth to argue, and continue. "And believe me, I understand the risks involved with letting her out of our sight, but we also need to consider the consequences of keeping her locked up like an animal."
He gives me the stink eye. "It's not like she's caged in a damn dungeon, Ciaran," he scoffs, shaking his head as he pours himself another shot.
"True, but we have no idea how long she’ll be here since we’ve heard nothing from the Viper. Plus, you know as well as I do that Róisín will probably double down in attempting to get her out from behind that locked door. Better all-around if we humor her on our own terms."
Finally, he holds up his hands in supplication and nods in agreement. "Alright. But Ciaran, I want her under constant surveillance. I don't want any more surprises or slips." he pauses a beat. "And make sure she understands the consequences if she tries anything foolish."
"Consequences?" I query, a moment of apprehension giving me pause. Callum can be a nasty fucker when he’s angry.
"Yeah. No more Mr. Nice Guy if she steps out of line. Because you know damn well, she's going to try to escape."
I let out a snort of laughter. “Mr. Nice Guy?” I repeat with a grin. “Not sure anyone has accused me of that before.”
Cal scowls, refusing to be softened. “You know what I mean. She’s got it good right now. Won’t hurt her to think we might make things a whole lot worse.”
I nod in agreement, knowing how capable he is of precisely that. "Okay, so we set up a controlled environment for her, with limited access and constant surveillance."
His lips twist like he’s sucking a lemon. “Fine, but I got your message about how the girls conned the soldier outside your suite. And after that and the little show Maricela put on when she arrived, we'll handpick the guards - loyal men who won't be tempted by her charms or swayed by any promises she might make… Or Emylyah. I’ll ensure Niko is apprised."
I fist my hands by my side. Just the thought of Maricela offering those plump lips, or any other part of herself, has me seeing red. Jesus, I need to pull myself together. Either that or fuck the damn woman out of my system.
I think we’ve dealt with the situation when another voice chimes in.
“You can’t keep her locked in her room with no clothes. It’s not right. Mama would be appalled.”
The two of us swing around to find Róisín standing behind us with belligerence written all over her face. Damn, she's pulling out the big guns, threatening us with our sweet Ma.
I walk close and drop my voice low, so I’m not overheard. “We’ve come to an agreement, Cal and I. You’ll get your way, and Maricela can spend some time with you within the confines of the compound.” I grip her chin in my fingers so she knows she’s in the wrong and can’t look away. “But don’t you ever undermine us like that again, or Maricela will become your whipping boy.”
Róisín pales enough that I think she might believe me.
There’s a sense of ruination swirling around my consciousness when I make my way back to my suite a few hours later.
I hope like hell Maricela is asleep because I’m feeling far too on edge, and I need some kind of release. My hands clench into fists as I walk into my room, my chest tight with anticipation. I don't want to be here right now, but going anywhere else will bring far too much speculation, and I want that even less. I try my best to retain my composure because if I don't, I'll lose myself to this frustration and lust that’s swirling far too close to the surface.
Entering my suite, I close the door behind me and lean against it, catching my breath. I'm close to losing my mind, and yet, I refuse to act on my urges. My body wants to take Maricela, to claim her for myself, but my head knows that’s neither right nor wise.
I need to keep my wits about me to stay in control of this situation. But the thought of her… of her submission and willingness to do anything to survive, fills me with a strange sense of relish. Maricela might not like it, but she's playing the game well.
She plays it well enough that I’m in danger of using her resolve for my own twisted needs.
With a deep breath, I move deeper into the room, peeling off my suit jacket, then unbuttoning my shirt, welcoming the cool air against my skin. I've always prided myself on my self-control, but tonight, I'm on the brink.
Maricela is quiet, just a mound in my bed, but even so, I have to turn away from the mere idea of her.
Striding into the bathroom, I turn on the shower, strip off the rest of my clothing, and step under the beating spray, letting it sluice over my head before I take myself in hand.
As the water cascades over me, I try to focus my thoughts on anything but Maricela. But it's futile. She's all I can think about. A wave of lust courses through me, and I imagine it's her hand on my pulsing cock instead of my own. I groan aloud at the thought, my body responding with a burning need. I let myself be carried away by the fantasy, my hand moving faster, the water humming an accompanying rhythm.
The warmth of the water starts to relax me, and I let my body respond to the pleasure. I close my eyes and throw my head back, imagining her body beneath mine, the way she moans softly as I touch her.
Relief thunders through me, as my seed spurts over the tile and washes away, taking my tension with it.
