Illicit Captor by Maggie Cole

7

Scarlet

The floorboards creak from Aidan's weight. He sits on the mattress, and it sinks. I stare at the wall, my heart beating faster, the smell of his cedarwood and musk scent filling the air.

Why did I tell him he could sleep with me?

This was a horrible idea.

He slides in next to me, and the heat of his body penetrates me even through the flannel. He questions, "Are ya going to stay staring at the wall all night, petal?"

My pulse skyrockets. I slowly turn and stare at him. The moonlight shines through the window. I don't know why I didn't shut the shades, but I curse myself further. All his chiseled features glow as if he's a god of some sort. And his broad shoulders aren't helping my thoughts either.

My butterflies kick in. "Is this better than the sofa?"

"Yea, thanks. Appreciate your kindness."

"Especially when you're my prison guard," I tease.

His lips twitch.

He slides his hand up the mattress between us, and I hold my breath. He drags his fingers across my jaw, then over my lips.

"What are ya doing?" I ask.

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

"You're touching me," I murmur.

He mutters, "Aye. Kind of hard not to."

"Do I have to remind ya that ya promised to be a gentleman?"

"I don't remember a conversation where the word gentleman was used," he retorts.

I don't say anything.

"I'll be good." He moves his fingers off me and tucks his hands under the pillow, and a mix of relief and disappointment hits me. He asks, "So why do ya want to go to New York?"

I shrug. "I don't know. Saw it on TV. It always looked fun and different than Ireland."

"But ya love Ireland?"

"Of course I love Ireland. Don't ask stupid questions. Makes ya sound like a plonker," I state.

He chuckles. "Maybe I am a plonker."

"No, you're actually not," I blurt out before I can stop myself.

His gaze gets hotter. "Good to know ya don't think that."

The tension in my core grows. I squeeze my thighs together.

He questions, "What would ya be doing if ya didn't have to worry about any of this?"

My chest tightens. "About being here with ya? Or Tommy coming after me? Or maybe even worse, my brother," I admit, my stomach flipping.

Something passes over his expression. I don't know if it's pity, sadness, or anger. I study it until it disappears. He answers, "Aye. What would ya be doing if none of this was happening?"

I hesitate, then confess, "I'm in this situation because I ran away."

His eyes widen. "Ya ran away?"

I nod. "Yea. I went to London; that's where Tommy found me. He took me back home, and that's when my da forced me to marry him. But I tried to get away."

Shock fills his face. "Ya wanted to leave the clan?"

Anxiety blooms in my chest. So much fear hits me just from thinking or talking about it. I mumble, "If only I had been smarter."

"Why did ya run away?" Aidan asks again.

I swallow hard and curl farther into the pillow, revealing, "I wanted to have my own life. Alaina always knew she wanted to run the clan."

"Aye. She's good at it too," Aidan states.

I shake my head and admit, "I still don't believe ya that she's running your clan."

He grunts. "I promise ya I'm not lying. She is. She and my brother love each other, and he's proud to have her by his side. She's an asset to the O'Connors now. And the O'Learys never deserved her."

I gape at him, unable to understand how any man, especially one who holds power like he does within his clan, can state that my sister is an asset. And especially when she's an O'Leary.

Never once did I hear Da, my brothers, Tommy, or any man applaud anything Alaina did. And as much as she tried to gain power, she was fighting a losing battle. Even I thought that. But I always held out hope it would happen someday and things would change. But ultimately, I knew she'd lose, so I ran.

I admit, "I thought my life should be more than cooking and cleaning for men. I didn't want to be at their disposal. I knew my da would eventually marry me off. He was pressuring me more and more. In all reality, I should have accepted the man he wanted me to marry before I ran away. I'm sure he wasn't as bad as Tommy was." I blink hard, my voice shakes, and I squeeze my eyes shut, remembering too many bad things about what it was like to be with Tommy.

Aidan shifts on the bed, moving closer. He slides an arm under me and wraps his other one around me, pulling me into him.

I don't fight it. He feels safe, warm, and protective. And I don't know if I've ever felt that before. I mumble, "I should have known my worth instead of fighting it."

Aidan firmly states, "Ya are worth more than how the O'Learys treat the women in their clan. And I'm sorry for everything that has happened to ya. I wish ya would've gotten far away when ya ran and disappeared into thin air."

I say into his chest, "I should have been smarter. I should have known I couldn't escape my da. Alaina tried to protect me, but she couldn't."

Aidan's hand strokes my hair, and his lips move closer. His breath hits my forehead. He states, "If ya had run away, what would ya have done? If ya could have done anything in the world, what would it have been?"

I shake my head. "I don't know. I didn't get that far. I just thought there was something better out there. I assumed if I got away, I would figure it out. I had a couple thousand euros with me. Turns out I was foolish, wasn't I?"

He strokes my cheek. "No, ya weren't foolish, petal. Ya were in a shitty position. The odds were against ya. Even if you'd escaped, that money would've run out quickly."

"I would have worked and made more," I declare.

"Ya would have struggled," he insists.

"I wasn't afraid to struggle."

He asserts, "A woman like ya isn't meant to be in poverty, is she?"

"What does that mean?" I ask.

He pulls me tighter into him. "You're meant to be taken care of. You're meant for the finer things in life, not the harsh realities of poverty. And ya weren't meant to be ordered around all day like someone's slave."

"Ya tell me what to do," I point out.

He grunts. "I tell ya what to do to keep ya safe. There's a difference."

"Is there?"

"Of course there is."

"But ya always tell me what to do, not just to keep me safe," I argue.

"And ya love it when I do," he teases.

"No, I don't."

"Ya sure about that?" he challenges.

"Without a doubt," I claim.

"So ya never like it when I order ya around?"

"Nope. Never."

He glances at my lips, asking, "What if I ordered ya around in this bed? Would ya hate that?"

My cheeks heat. The fire in my core bursts into flames.

He drags his finger over the curve of my waist, and my butterflies take off faster. I hold my breath.

He closes the gap between us, presses his lips to mine, and slides his tongue into my mouth so fast I gasp for air. But before I know what's happening, I'm kissing him back.

My hands tug at his hair, and my body presses against his erection. He slides his tongue farther into my mouth, intensifying the kiss and fisting my hair with perfect pressure. It's also not gentle, but it's not too rough. And I thought after everything Tommy had done to me that the only thing I'd be able to manage ever again, if anything, would be gentle. I assumed I'd never want any man to touch me ever again.

Yet everything about Aidan is too much. It's like he knows how to touch me even though he barely has until now.

I whimper against him. My body begins to tremble. Emotions lodge in my throat, and I keep wondering how I can want him. It's not only because he's an O'Connor, I'm an O'Leary, and there's nothing that's supposed to be between us. After everything Tommy did to me, I shouldn't want Aidan to kiss me, pin me against his body, or even be next to me in this bed.

Still, I want all of it. So I kiss him back until he pulls me on top of him. His chest is bare. He's only in his underwear. He slides his palm into the back of my pants and grips my bare ass. His erection grows harder and harder, and I'm so wet between the legs it's almost painful not to have him slide it inside of me.

"You're a good kisser, petal," he mumbles.

I freeze, torn out of the moment. Even though he moves his tongue back in my mouth, I push away and retreat.

He tightens his grip around me, his palm freezes on my ass, and his other hand stays wrapped in my locks.

I whisper, "I'm married. We can't do this."

"Ya aren't," he declares.

"I am. The laws in Ireland and the church say I am," I state.

"Fuck the laws of Ireland and the goddamn church. Ya aren't," he firmly repeats.

I close my eyes, so confused, declaring, "But I know I am."

"Ya can't be forced to take a vow and have it be legitimate," he states, as if his word is the only thing I need to believe.

"I-I'm so confused," I confess. My voice cracks as I add, "If I don't keep my marriage vow, what kind of woman am I?"

He groans. "It wasn't your vow."

"But it was. My da had the authority to make it for me."

"No, he didn't," Aidan snarls.

I pull my hand away from him and stare at the ring on my finger.

He rolls me onto my back so fast I lose my breath. He grabs my hand, slides the ring off me, and tosses it across the room. He seethes, "Why are ya still wearing that? Ya are not his."

My gut drops and quivers.

Aidan says through gritted teeth, "Ya don't want to be his, and ya never have. Admit it to me."

He's right. Everything about that statement is right. Yet I can't seem to get the words out. All I can do is cry. Tears stream down my cheeks, and I repeat, "I'm so confused. Nothing makes sense. I want to believe ya, and I want that to be my reality, but every time I've thought things aren't true, my life's proven me wrong."

He sighs. He tugs me back into him. I press my head against his chest, my tears streaming down his pecs. He quietly states, "I know you're confused. I'm not trying to add to that. We don't have to do anything tonight. We'll wait."

My breath hitches. I glance up at him, asking, "Wait?"

He looks at me with so much certainty, I shudder. Tingles light up my core, conflicting with the anxiety I feel. He declares, "I will have ya, petal. I want ya, and I know that deep down ya want me too. There's something here between us. So yea, we'll wait. But ya are not his. I will continue to remind ya until there's no more confusion and you're a hundred percent adamant that ya are not his and were never meant to be."

I sniffle.

He adds, "And I'm telling ya right now, I will kill him. But before I kill him, ya will be free of him, and ya will be mine."