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Scotty pulls away, letting out a sigh. He reaches around me, opening the drawers in my desk and rummaging through them. “What are you looking for?” I ask.
“Knife.”
“Why?”
“You’ll see.”
“Bottom left,” I say, my breath finally evening out, even though my entire body is humming with pent-up energy. He finally finds what he’s looking for, slamming the door shut with a banging thud that pounds with my rapid pulse.
Scotty brings the knife to eye-level, inspecting it. “Why the fuck do you have this?”
I run my finger along the Celtic handle. It’s an Irish dagger small enough to close in the palm of my hand. “Sean gave it to me. I have zero use for it, so I shoved it away the second he left.”
Scotty laughs, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. He moves the hand on the small of my back, clutching the back of my head. “Unzip. Take my cock out.”
I nod, fumbling with his belt until I’m able to unzip and reach into his boxers. I free his erection, my eyes unable tear away as I fist his length and admire him. The velvet skin is warm beneath my touch, and I lick my lips, taking in how thick he is. He’s easily going to tear me apart when he’s finally inside of me. But I like the pain, and I welcome the challenge. My stomach flips with anticipation, and I release his cock, gripping his shoulders so I can slide him inside of me.
Scotty lets out a soft laugh, holding me to his chest as I let out a cry of pleasure and pain. “Fuck, princess. You’re too tight.”
I tilt my head back, biting my lip while I slowly inch him in, getting used to his size.
“That’s it. Good job. I’m halfway in.”
“Yes,” I sigh, slamming down until he’s fully inside. “Oh, fuck, Jaime.”
He groans as I grind my hips into him. His hand yanks at my left, and he pulls the ring off, his jaw ticking as he tosses it across the room.
“Tell me,” he orders.
“I’m yours,” I say, swallowing as the admission flutters through the air.
He hums with appreciation, pressing his lips against the palm of my left hand. I press it against his chest, playing with the buttons of his shirt. Scotty’s hand grabs my right, and I gasp when he brings the dagger against my flesh, slicing me from the bottom of my pinky finger, to the soft pad below my thumb.
I try to yank away, but he grips my wrist. He doesn’t have to explain what he’s doing.I know.
Crimson liquid trickles from the wound, falling between us, to where we’re joined. My eyes widen, as I make eye contact with him, and my chest aches with the realization of what this means for us. I kiss him, claiming his breath as mine while he does the same slash to his own hand.
We connect our wounds, both of our blood combining between us. I reach for the silk scarf wrapped around my waist as a belt and wrap it around our hands. The need to be close to him swells in my chest, and I’m not sure how. We’re connected, bound by blood and flesh, but still, I need more. I need his mouth against mine.
When I’m finished wrapping the silk around our hands he grabs my face. “You are blood of my blood,” he rasps, and I repeat the words.
“Bone of my bone,” I say, and he repeats, lifting his hips into mine and slamming into me with a powerful thrust.
“From this day forward I will never have another,” we say in unison. “My life is yours.”
And then, he wraps his good hand around me, squeezing me to his chest. He stands quickly, claiming my mouth in a harsh kiss, biting my lip and drawing more blood from my body. My back falls against the desk again, and Scotty bends over me, our hands still bound as we complete the blood oath.
It has no legal standing. Fuck, it has no standing in modern times at all. But he’s doing it anyway. Fuck what the Russians want from me, he won’t let them have me. He won’t stop fighting for me.
“My wife,” he says, slamming into me so hard that my body slides across the desk. “Let them come, Saoirse. Let that fucker try to touch you. I will take his last breath, and breathe it into you.”
I gasp with each hard piston, over and over until my walls squeeze around him, and I cry out his name, hooking my ankles around his ass, and keeping him close to me.
“Fuck, Saoirse. I can feel you. Oh shit, baby.”
Scotty’s breath was uneven before, but now he’s exhaling rapidly, pushing into me once, twice, before his cock twitches inside of me and his hips flex, filling me with his release. He collapses on top of me, and I wrap my arms around his back, staring up at the ceiling. Silence fills the air, letting it sink in.
I convince myself it was the heat of the moment, he didn’t mean it. Then, I burst the bubble around us. “This isn’t enough to make them stop,” I say.
