Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 126485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 632(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 632(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
“Help that man out of his shirt!” Seamus shouted, and soon more joined in. By now, Lorcan was the only man who still wore a shirt. He stopped and extended his arms with an expectant smile. My hands were thankfully steady when I began to unbutton his shirt. The music had banished my nervousness for now. When the last button was opened, I slid down his suspenders and helped him shrug off his shirt. It was the first time I saw Lorcan’s chest, and I wished it didn’t have any impact on me. But Lorcan was a bear of a man—muscled, strong, and with just the right amount of chest hair that made me want to rake my fingers through it. The thought made me feel hot, and as if Lorcan could follow my train of thought, he smirked as he put his suspenders back on and extended his hand for another dance.
My desire for my husband was ever present. It didn’t make me any less nervous about tonight. My first time with Lorcan wouldn’t be the slow, considerate lovemaking I’d envisioned in the past. It would be dirty and hot and probably damn painful.
It was after midnight when Lorcan and I finally took our leave. He’d rented the biggest room above the pub for the night. My legs became shaky when we headed up the staircase. I tried to focus on the positive, how incredible Lorcan’s touch had made me feel, how strong my orgasms had been. I’d dreamed of them every night since the auction. Today, I’d probably have at least another one before Lorcan fucked me. No need to pretend it would be anything else.
My bravado disappeared when Lorcan closed the door behind us. It was a Gothic room, with dark wood and purple satin drapes over a massive four poster bed. The almost ceiling-high wardrobe reminded me of old confessional boxes and gave the room a foreboding sense.
A huge copper bathtub stood on four bear-claw feet in the room, right in front of the window. The drapes were closed, but judging from the neighboring houses that was a good thing. A door led to another room, the bathroom I assumed. I didn’t see Lorcan’s bag anywhere, only my small suitcase leaning against the wall beside the wardrobe. It held all my belongings I brought with me to the States. I wouldn’t be returning to Gulliver’s house so I had packed everything. I didn’t dwell on the fact that I’d have to live under the same roof as Lorcan.
The gothic nature of the room wasn’t one I would have chosen for a wedding night. It was better suited for a satanic ritual. Though, considering it was my wedding night with Lorcan Devaney, the latter seemed more fitting.
Lorcan headed for the wide armchair that seemed as if it had been transported here straight from an Irish manor in the countryside and then picked up a remote to turn on an electric fireplace.
“I prefer real fire,” I said for lack of anything else to say.
“Me too,” Lorcan said in a low voice. He was still shirtless and sat with spread legs, watching me. I wondered what he wore beneath his kilt, but I’d surely soon find out. My body reacted to the sight of his broad chest with a treacherous warmth in my core, but my mind replayed the events from the warehouse.
“I’ll have to freshen up,” I mumbled and hurried toward the bathroom door. Before I could enter and hide, Lorcan spoke.
“I’m sure you taste delicious either way.”
My mouth ran dry as I leaned against the door, letting his words set in. I washed my face, then after a moment of debating I took a washcloth and freshened up between my legs. I didn’t know what Lorcan had in store for me tonight, but if his comment was any indication, he might lick me in places I preferred clean before such an endeavor. Lorcan had bought a white nightgown for me for the occasion, and it hung from a hook on the wall. I put it on, surprised at its modesty, and I released a shaky breath. The idea of being with Lorcan didn’t evoke the kind of fear in me I would have expected. Despite the brutal show he’d put on, and knowing he’d have no trouble disposing of me too, I was more curious than scared. My body had reacted in such a way to Lorcan’s touch that made me crave more, even knowing that I shouldn’t.
He wouldn’t kill me tonight. Probably.
But the fact remained he was still one of the suspects when it came to Imogen’s disappearance. And who was I to say he hadn’t married Imogen a few months ago in the same manner, spent a few joyous hours with her, and then made her disappear. Nobody would have told me.