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Ginevra chuckled, pushing at my chest, trying to get me to step back. “Very funny, Cormac. Now let me shower and wear something more appropriate.”
“How the fuck do you know what is and isn’t appropriate for Liam’s clubs?” I asked, tracing my fingers up her forearms before snatching her wrists in my left hand and yanking them up above her head.
She was right, though. We didn’t have time for this, as appealing as I found the thought of her walking through the club with my cum all over her.
“Strip and take your shower,” I ordered her, “if you don’t want to be walking around the club with stripes from my belt on your thighs.”
Ginevra’s eyes widened, and she stilled. “Good,” I muttered, pushing back from the door and freeing her.
She blew her hair out of her face in a huff. “Can I wear comfortable shoes, at least?”
“Do you want me to micromanage your footwear too?”
Her warm laugh reached something deep inside my chest and yanked on it, drawing me back to her. I kissed her forehead, her cheeks, and finally her lips, capturing them in a sweet kiss that left us both breathless.
“No,” she answered, running her fingers over my curls.
“Go get showered, brat.”
An hour later she arrived in the living room, a glorious vision in gold sequins. She’d styled her hair so it fell in soft waves down to the middle of her back. And that dress.Jesus.It hugged every one of her generous curves, stopping a few inches below the sweet juncture of her thighs. The top sat high in front, arcing just below her collarbones, but in back, dipped all the way down to her ass, the pale gold of the sequins contrasting with her olive skin and brunette hair.
Uncharacteristically, her make-up was bold and vivid, dark smokey eyes and a vampy red lip that begged me to sink my teeth into it.
She fidgeted under our admiring gazes.
“Fuck, Ginevra, you look like a fuckin’ queen,” Liam whispered reverently, angling himself out of his armchair to greet her.
“Turn around, Ginevra,” I told her, my voice raspier than I expected.
She did, treating us to the sight of the sequined fabric stretched tightly over her perfect ass. “Spread your legs,” I whispered.
She did.
I inched the fabric of the dress up until we could see the red ribbon of her thong perfectly centered between the generous curves of her ass.
Smack! Smack!I spanked her twice, for the joy of seeing my palm print bloom on each of her cheeks.
“Perfect,” I murmured, straightening her back out and pulling her dress down.
25
LIAM
Excitement rushed through me. I fuckin’ loved fight nights—the crowds, the noise, the violence, the women. I looked at Ginevra sitting beside me in the backseat of the vehicle, her knees pushed primly together and her posture regal, like the queen she was. My queen. Our queen. Signed on the dotted line.
I couldn’t help the fierce satisfaction that rolled through me at the thought. She belonged to us now. And it was time to introduce her to our people. Just as yesterday’s visit to shops and businesses in the Russos’ territory had been carefully choreographed, so would be tonight.
The Irish mob was more rough and tumble than the Italians, but no less misogynist. Sure, we had a long tradition of women taking up arms. Women could fuck shit up just as well as any man, but we still expected them to clean up well and serve as eye candy when needed.
Ginevra was definitely eye candy, the expensive kind you got by the gram in high street shops, the kind I couldn’t have dreamed of when I was a kid here, or when I was broke and hungry back in Ireland. I eyed the hem of her skirt as it rode up her thighs.
As if she could feel the intensity of my gaze, she swung her head around, a question in her eyes.
“You’re fucking beautiful, Ginevra. Inside and out.”
Oh fuck, she blushed. Our Ginevra got off on Cormac’s degradation, but praise,praise, turned her into a puddle of melted goo. This woman deserved all of it, deserved to know how amazing, how worthy she was, how fucking perfectly she fit into our dangerous and bloody lives. I wrapped my fingers around hers, and when she squeezed mine back, my heart stuttered.
Too soon, we arrived at the club. The valet opened Ginevra’s door, and she slid out, all grace and smiles as she made her movie star entrance into our world. By the time I’d climbed out behind her, she’d already sauntered past the long line of beautiful people hoping to get in.
