Black Wedding by Emma Luna
Time passes quickly as we fall into comfortable conversation while waiting for the pizza. We talk about movies I love, but he won’t even give them a chance. We bantered over my love of classic crime films like Snatch, Lock Stock and Two Smoking Barrels; any tongue in cheek look at the industry I know all too well. On the other hand, Liam can’t stand watching films featuring a hitman, hating how unrealistic they are. Still, as I pointed out to him, it’s not like Hollywood can put out an advert for an assassin to liaise with them. As the night goes on, we both start feeling more comfortable with each other.
Once the pizza arrives, we work together to set them up on the coffee table in front of the sofa while Liam replaces our empty beer bottles. When he returns to sit back down, this time, he opts for the other end of the same couch I’m sitting on. My breath hitches as I feel him shuffle closer and lean forward. My brain is going through all manner of thoughts, none of which followed my ‘just getting to know him’ plan. Luckily, Liam seems to be very interested in the piece of pizza he picks up instead of me. He takes a bite of his pizza and I am entranced as he licks his lips. Watching his tongue trace across his soft lips does crazy things to my insides, I can feel my body lighting on fire. I try to suppress the groan that’s desperate to escape, but he must have heard it, and looks over at me with his eyebrow raised in question.
“What can I say? I love pizza,” I mumble, trying to think of any excuse to cover up that I was ogling him. I groan loudly and entirely on purpose with the next bite. His eyes widen as the sound registers, and he shuffles uncomfortably. Is it freaking him out? Or is he shuffling because he is just as turned on as I am? I know which I would prefer but I am worried I might have weirded him out. I really should have made my game plan about how to not look like a complete idiot.
“So, we have covered all the easy ones like favourite movies, music, books, food, times of the year, and even weather. I think it’s time we go a little deeper, don’t you?” he asks, his lips moving to touch the rim of the beer bottle before taking another drink.
“I don’t mind deep, you can go as deep as you like,” I say, not realising that my words sound like a dirty innuendo until they are out for all to hear. It’s like the words leave my mouth before I have even thought about what I’m saying. My word vomit results in his smile turning into a massive, cocky grin. My cheeks flood with heat, the blush colour rising quickly as his questions what I said. His piercing eyes are alive with laughter as he tries his hardest to look like he was taking what I said seriously. He starts to speak, but I soon cut him off.
“Fuck off, don’t say anything about what I just said. To answer your original question properly, what type of topic do you have in mind? It is your question to ask next anyway,” I speak firmly, shuffling on my side of the sofa, tucking one of my legs under my ass to get comfortable. I’m trying not to notice how we’ve both shuffled to get more comfortable and that’s brought us closer together. The gap between us is so small now.
“I know we said nothing heavy, but I think it makes up a big part of who we are, so I can’t ignore it. What made you want to be part of this world? You said your mum would do anything in her power to keep you out of it. Why were you not interested?” he asks, and I smile. This was probably a more straightforward question than asking me my favourite type of music. This was an integral part of me and who I am.
“This is easy. My mum would send me to etiquette classes, dance classes, extra tuition, anything she could think of to make me an appealing prospect. But, believe it or not, men are not exactly banging down my door to date me—” Before I could even finish my sentence, he interrupts me.
“No fucking way. Sorry, but I don’t believe you didn’t have guys interested in you,” Liam states firmly, disbelieving.
“So, there were two types of guys who were interested. The first was the type of guy who knew all about my grandfather’s inheritance. So they basically were only dating me to stand a chance at getting my dad’s company. It was a power thing. The second was the bad boys, the ones who wanted to show my dad how big their balls were. They wanted to affirm that they weren’t scared of him, and to prove it, they went after the one thing he always said was off-limits. But as I’m sure you have worked out, neither were really interested in me. They either wanted my connections or wanted to say a big fuck you to my family. The first is so obnoxious; they usually hate the idea that I have my own mind. The second was good in bed, but they weren’t really there for me either. It all got boring quickly,” I explain.
Liam hasn’t said a word, so I pull my eyes from concentrating on the beer bottle, my typical shy go-to, and I look straight at him. His beautiful green eyes are boring into me, an angry expression morphing his face. Gone is the usually carefree, cocky smile that I have become used to. Replacing it is a stern scowl that transforms not just his face but also his whole body language. I realise now I am meeting the business side of Liam, the one he utilises when doing a hit. But why is he angry at me? Before I can ask, he steps in.
“I can’t believe guys would use you like that. I know I kidnapped you, but that is different. The idea of using you, having sex with you either to get what I want or to get one over on your father just seems disgusting. I hate that they would use you like that,” he grinds out, and I can’t help but smile.
“Look at you getting all protective. We aren’t even properly engaged yet,” I joke. But, thankfully, the fun, cocky persona soon returns, and I was so pleased to see it.
“Sorry, I hate to break it to you, but I feel the same way about any woman. They should never have sex used as a weapon against them. It’s too much of a personal thing.”
“Have you considered, maybe I used them for sex? The assholes that wanted to get one over my father, of course, I knew their intentions. I also know that the ones I did fuck had good reputations, which is why I had sex with them. But, most of the time, I wanted to say fuck you to my father too. So why not do that and get some great sex at the same time?” I ask, and a mixture of emotions flash across his face in response. First, he looks mad as hell, but then there was also a different type of fire burning in his eyes, and I think he might be turned on by the idea of me having mind-blowing sex. Sadly, I embellished slightly.
“Okay, we need to change the subject. I do not want to hear about you having sex with other men,” he grinds out, and I chuckle. He stands up, clearly looking for something to do as a distraction, and goes to the fridge to bring us two more beers. His beer was drained, and mine was almost done, so replacements were essential. I need to be careful about having too much, the last thing I want to do is get drunk. I already feel a bit on the merry side, which is probably why more word vomit escapes my lips.
“Okay, so I may have lied. The sex with the bad boys was always better than the dickheads vying for power. Still, none could ever be classed as mind-blowing,” I practically whisper into my beer bottle. Finishing the last of the sweet tangy liquid, I quickly swap it for the new one Liam just sat down on the coffee table.
Liam sits back down in the middle of the sofa this time. He’s so close to me now that our legs are mere inches from touching. His eyes bore into mine like he is trying to see deep into my soul.
“What do you mean, it wasn’t mind-blowing? With any of them?” he asks.
“Woah, you make it sound like I have slept with loads of guys when it’s been like six. But no, none of them was what I would call mind-blowing. They were more interested in taking their own pleasure rather than giving, if you know what I mean,” I say whilst wagging my eyebrows suggestively, along with a bit of wink at the end. I was trying to look sexy and suggestive, but in fact, I probably looked like I had some kind of eye infection. Fuck, I couldn’t do sexy even if I wanted to.
“Hold on. So what you are saying is that you have been with six guys, and not one of them put you first? Please tell me they at least helped you get there in the end, even if they got to the finish line first, so to speak.” I can’t help but laugh. I love the little innuendos he’s using, like he just couldn’t bring himself to say the actual words. My thoughts on the subject are that if you can’t say it, you probably shouldn’t be doing it.
“I’m assuming you mean, did they give me an orgasm even if they came first?” I ask him bluntly. “I have found that men who don’t know how to say it can’t do it,” I tease cryptically, but Liam’s cocky face says he isn’t going to let me get away with that bit of dig.
“Oh, Princess, not only can I say it, I can do it too. I was just trying to be polite with you, but I won’t hold back if you want the real me. So yes, what I’m asking is if the sack of shits you dated before could give you earth-shattering, toe-curling orgasms, whether they had finished first or not.” His voice has taken on a new gravely tone that sounds almost raspy. As he speaks, he practically growls. The sound of him talking about the mind-blowing orgasms he claims he can give has my ovaries clenching and my pussy starting to feel wet.
“Never…I’ve never had an orgasm given to me by someone else,” I whisper, hoping the ground will swallow me up. Instead, my admission rings through the air as though I shouted it.
“Fuck, you really have dated a lot of twatwaffles. I have no idea what will happen between us or if we will ever progress to a sexual relationship in our marriage, but I can fucking guarantee that you will come every time with me. I would make sure my tongue craves your taste, my fingers desperate to feel your pussy hungrily grip them for more, and my cock owning all your holes. I would make sure I learnt to play your body like a complex instrument, and only I know how to make you sing. You can rule in public, but I am always in charge when it comes to sex, and whether you want to or not, your body would bend to my will. I would own you.” The dirtiness of his words, the hard, sensual look on his face, and the short, sharp breathy moans he releases as he speaks tip me over the edge.
I have never liked the idea of a man dominating me in any way, let alone in a way so personal. Yet the way Liam speaks, like it would be inevitable if we were ever to go down that road, I can believe him. As he speaks, not only do I feel myself getting wetter, I feel my body start to come alive. An electric hum seems to echo along my nerves, spreading throughout my body, warming me more than I needed. I’ve never had someone turn me on so much with their words. My brain is so befuddled by his words that I literally cannot form a decent sentence.
“Erm…I…what…It’s hard. No…not that. Fuck…” What the fuck is wrong with me? The two words I manage to string together make it sound like I’m talking about his hard cock, which of course, gets me looking straight at his crotch. There’s no denying he is pitching a tent. I look away quickly, hoping he missed me, but his laughter rings out around us.
“Okay, we have got off track here. I wanted to know why you choose guns over ballgowns. I think that’s a much safer ‘getting to know you’ topic than one that has you looking at my dick,” he laughs. Busted. I should have known he saw me.
“I’m not going to deny it. You know you are hot and are physically my type, but no matter how much I might want to fuck you, that’s not what this is about. I need someone who believes in me. Someone who can stand by my side and let me lead, not feel the need to take over. I also need someone who will protect me when I can’t protect myself. That is what I am more interested in finding. So, I will answer your question, and then I’m going to bed because I’ve had a couple of beers more than I should. I’m moving into the land of mistakes,” I say, trying my best to sound firm and confident. His smile in response to my rambling is blinding.
“I am willing to take the time to show you that I am all those things. I may have only known you for a short time, but I already see that you are formidable. How your dad has never noticed is baffling, and despite the fact I very much want to fuck you too, we will keep this professional…for now.” He practically sings the last word, making it clear we will address it in the future. Hearing that he wants me too, the words rippled over my skin. Fuck, I want him badly, but I meant what I said, business first.
We talked for ages about how I hated my mother’s choice of lessons and how I trained in secret with Jimmy. I told him about the blood rush I felt at sixteen when I tortured my first traitor. He tried to report my dad to the police, but what he didn’t know is that the police are in our pockets. We own most of the officials in the city, it’s how we get away with so much shit. Liam leans closer as I describe the rush I felt using my dagger to draw that first drop of blood. How his screams were like music to my ears and fuelled me further. I drew it out, making sure he felt every ounce of my rage, every bit of the punishment. Right up until he was a sobbing mess, begging for death. Something I was only too happy to oblige.
This is a side of me that nobody but Jimmy knows about, yet as I spoke, I could see Liam revelled in my words, loving the power I could wield in my hands and the fact I wasn’t scared of it. Most men would think I’m crazy because I can kill without remorse, but I have my reasons. I have been surrounded by death from a very young age, I became desensitised, and if it’s well earned, I’m more than happy to give them what they deserve.
Liam talks about how he has a similar philosophy. He doesn’t just take on any job, he only takes on ones that he feels deserve it. As a result, he doesn’t inflict the level of violence that I can, preferring to slaughter swiftly and without a trace. That’s why he is the best. He is often long gone before anyone even realises that his mark has been killed.
Listening to Liam talk about hits he has done, how he chooses his marks, and what criteria he uses to guide his moral compass is intoxicating. I love hearing him talk about the power he wields over life and death and how he doesn’t abuse it. There’s something uniquely different about him. When I try to bring up his family or anything about his past, he shuts things down, changing the subject instantly. If his family really is a threat to my crown, I want to know all about them. I will have to work on getting Liam to trust me and open up about them.
We both talk for longer than we agreed, and mutual yawning makes us aware of just how late it is. Checking my watch, I confirm it has gone two in the morning, and we both agree it is time for bed. Liam, ever the Irishman, had drunk at least three more beers than me and didn’t have a wobble in his step or a slurred word in his speech. I, on the other hand, was way past tipsy. The happy, smiley, far too affectionate Bree has taken over, which is why I need to get her to bed before I say something stupid. Liam obviously has the same idea. From his standing position, he reaches out to help me off the sofa.
As I stand fully, the wobble from the drinks I consumed is evident. Liam is quick to catch me, making sure he wraps his arms around me to hold me upright. My heart races at our closeness and I feel the heat from our bodies melting together. Ever the gentleman, Liam half carries and drags me up the stairs to my bedroom. He stands me up outside my bedroom door, but I keep hold of his strong arms, not quite ready to let go. I can’t help that I am drawn to him, and I don’t want him to leave me here.
With hooded eyes, I look up at him, but instead of his signature cocky grin that I have come to like, he looks so serious. He looks like he’s brooding, but I don’t want to see that. I smile brightly at him and attempt to throw a seductive wink his way so he knows what my intentions are. But in my drunken state, it probably looks more like I have a problem with my eye. As Liam’s laughter fills the room my heart starts to swell.
Raising his hand, he finds a stray piece of hair and slowly tucked it behind my ear, his fingers leaving a trail of heat wherever they touch, from my chin, over my cheeks, and up over my ear. Liam’s touch causes my blood to rush and meet his fingers, a rouge-coloured blush spreads across my face. I can only imagine how red I must look. I wanted more of his fingers, more of the feel of them against my soft skin. More of him.
“Goodnight, Princess,” he whispers in my ear. Shock waves ripple down my spine, heat pooling in my core at the feel of his breath against my skin.
Using my free hand, the one not currently gripping onto the doorframe to keep my balance steady, I reach out and grab a fistful of his t-shirt. He looks down at it questioningly, but before he can say anything, my vagina gives out instructions, my brain no longer calling the shots.
I have to stand on my tiptoes to be able to reach, but as our lips press together, I have no regrets. His lips are soft yet firm. I lick my tongue across his lower lip to gain entry, and I’m instantly hooked on the taste that is all Liam. The soft moan I have no control of ripples out of my mouth and across his lips. My sounds of pleasure act like an electricity bolt striking straight through Liam’s body and he no longer holds back. Any hesitation he had about this happening is long forgotten.
Turning me quickly, he pins me with my back firmly against the cold wall, yet the front of my body burns from the proximity of him. His hands feel like they are everywhere, in my hair, holding my face, roaming all over my body in a desperate attempt to pull me as close as possible. I can feel his hardness getting more prominent against my stomach, but it’s the way he moves his mouth that really pushes me over the edge. His kisses are brutal, hard, dominant, and yet I crave them. I willingly submit my mouth and let him take my tongue, loving the feel of him abusing them. I want more.
As soon as he bites down on my lower lip, I groan loudly. I can’t help myself, I let my hand wander, and just as it sweeps over the impressive bulge in his pants, Liam freezes. We were in our own little bubble, acting on instinct without thinking. My hand travelling south made my intentions very clear and it’s obvious they differ from Liams.
He takes a step back, but with his body no longer there to hold me up, the alcohol wins and I start to crumble. Liam reaches out to hold me up using his arm, but his warm body remains a step away. Initially, I feel hurt that he’s rejecting me like this, but as he stares into my eyes with a small but genuine smile, I know he’s only doing what he thinks is right. It’s weird not seeing his cocky, know-it-all smirk, but the idea that our kiss made him smile causes my heart to swell and a matching grin spread across my face.
Liam looks like he is trying to find the right words to explain why he pulled away, but I am silently pleading with him not to say anything. I already know his reasons why the kiss shouldn’t have happened and why it can’t happen again. But for just one minute, I need to live in the moment of the best kiss I have ever experienced. He gives me a slight nod, understanding what I want.
“Night, Princess,” he says, placing a chaste kiss on my cheek. I feel my skin start to burn as my usual blush appears.
Before I even have a chance to say good night, he has gone, practically running into his own room. Leaving me standing in the corridor, my body on fire, my senses craving everything that is Liam Doughty. I want to follow him or have him burst into my room regretting his decision, but I know neither can happen. So I walk solemnly into the bedroom and get myself ready for bed. I already know that those lips and the hardness I felt growing impossibly large against my stomach will be featuring heavily in my dreams. But, for now, I need to remember that the only way anything can happen with Liam, is in my imagination.