Page 15 of Desecrated Reign
Thankfully, this is a battle I don’t need to wage alone.
This morning, after I woke up wrapped in Rohan’s arms—after having the best night’s sleep I’ve had in weeks—he told me everything he’s learned over the past few days. Then, we devised a plan with the help of Lorcan, Mam, and Fiadh. Gabriel might think he’s controlling the board by holding this secret meeting, but little does he know we’re ready with one hell of a countermove.
We spent most of today making phone calls to other syndicate members around the country, putting all the pieces into play, ready to remove the opposing king once and for all. And although we were very careful with whom we placed our trust, overall, the reception from the other provinces was good, especially after Beibhinn’s visit to Connacht. We’re in a brilliant position, and as long as Lorcan can hold his title as Ulster’s king, we have half of the syndicate on our side.
Smoothing my hands over my dress, I trace my reflection with my eyes, smiling when the evening sun beams through my bedroom window, catching the purple diamond Claddagh ring Liam gave me for my birthday. With my left hand, I reach for the band and twist it around my finger.
Use the hurt, the pain, the anger. Channel it, Saoirse. You said you’re stuck in a storm. Then become it. I close my eyes, letting the words from my dream with Liam wash through me and bring me strength. When my eyelids flutter open with a heady exhale, the girl staring back at me is different. All the uncertainty is gone, and in its place is a woman who is confident, strong, and knows she can reign in a man’s world.
Suddenly, my en suite door opens, billowing a puff of steam into the bedroom. Peering over my shoulder, my mouth falls open when Rohan appears in the doorway. A white towel circles his waist, hanging low enough that I can see the water kissing the deep V-shaped divot beneath his abs. My eyes scan over the sporadic patchwork of tattoos dotted around his torso as I draw my gaze up his body until I finally get a front-row view of him drying off his unruly hair with a small hand towel.
When he spots me, his movements come to a halt, his stare travelling over every inch of me. Trapped in a lust-filled standoff, I relish how his tongue sweeps along his lower lip and how his eyes undress me with a cheeky glance. “Fucking hell, love. Are you trying to get someone killed? Because I can guarantee if any cunt looks at you sideways tonight, they will lose an eye to my knife. No hesitation.”
With a shake of my head, I turn to face him and add an eye roll. “You’re ridiculous.”
After tossing the hand towel in the basket next to my dresser, Rohan closes the distance between us. His arms wrap around my waist, and he settles his hands on my arse, pulling me into his still-damp chest.
“Stop, you’re still wet.” I slap his shoulder with a small chuckle, but it doesn’t deter him. If anything, it spurs him on.
Lowering his forehead to mine, he flashes me a devious smile. “I like making you wet, love.”
“Rohan! Put your libido away. Any minute now, this cabin will be busting with people. Some of which I have never met. Forgive me if I don’t want your mam’s first impression of me to scream, ‘Sorry I took so long, I was upstairs fucking your son.’”
“Fine. I’ll stop. For now.” He places a chaste kiss on my forehead and then pulls back, making me miss him instantly. “But first, I have a present for you.”
My forehead furrows as he walks across the room to the duffel bag containing his stuff. Next, he pulls out a wooden box. “I wanted to give you this the night of your initiation party, but after everything that happened, I never got the chance.”
Memories of that night flash before my eyes—how happy I was to be with them both. It wasn’t perfect, not by any means, but we were working on it. Rohan was finally accepting Liam’s role in my life. Things between the three of us were looking up, and then it was all ripped away in the blink of an eye.
Sadness washes over my features, but he tips my chin up in true Rohan fashion and kisses away my blues. “It’s okay to miss him, you know.”
Swallowing back the grief welling in the base of my throat, I shake my head in acknowledgement, not wanting it to ruin this moment. Forcing a smile on my face, I crinkle my nose as I shrug. “I know. I’m okay.” His hand glides over my jawline as his eyes scan the lie we both know is there, so I lean into his touch, bending the truth. “Or at least I will be.”
Nodding in agreement, Rohan steps back and places the cedar-wood box in my hands, knowing I need the distraction. My eyes fall on the beautiful wooden piece, and I trace over the lettering carved into the lid. “What does it mean?”
“Níl gach ríocht faoi rialú ag ríthe.” He sounds out the script before repeating it in English. “Not all kingdoms are ruled by kings.”
My eyes dart upwards, and a soft smile tugs at the edges of my lips. “It’s beautiful.”
“Open it.” Fingers teasing the tiny gold clasp, I gently pry the lid open to reveal a 9mm Glock, almost identical to the one Rohan owns but also uniquely different—more feminine. “The handle is made of a blend of rose quartz and obsidian crystal. It’s supposed to represent love and protection.”
Once again, I can’t stop my fingers from tracing over it, starting at the handle and then running across the script engraved on the barrel itself—the same words carved on the lid of the box.
“There’s a thigh holster, too.” He reaches into the box, pulling out a small H-shaped belt with silver studs. “Here… let me help you put it on.” Dropping to one knee, he shimmies my dress over my hips, exposing the lacey black thong that barely covers my pussy. “Fuck me, that’s hot.”
His fingers glide along the inside of my thigh with a feather-light touch, spreading my legs slightly. Then, as if he can’t help himself, he runs his tongue along the exposed flesh before biting down on the crevice between my thigh and pussy, leaving his mark on my skin and forcing me suck in a pleasure-filled breath. With a wicked smirk, his tongue traces over the lace, lapping at my lips and making my inner walls clench with need.
“Rohan!” His name falls past my lips with a warning.
“Can’t help myself, love.” He peers up at me, mischief dancing across his smile. “That pussy is mine later. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.” I wiggling my brows.
Laughing at my suggestive expression, Rohan pulls away from my centre and slips the leather around my thigh, buckling the two straps in place. Then, holding out his hand, he gestures for me to give him the gun so he can slide it into the gun pouch. Finally, he rises from his knee, and spins me to face the mirror. Moulding his chest to my back, he rests his chin on my shoulder as we both survey our reflections. His hands glide down my rib cage, and he eases the material of my dress back over my hips.
“Have you any idea how hot you look with that gun strapped to the inside of your thigh? If we weren’t in a rush, I’d be peeling this dress off you, not putting it back in place.”
“Think of it this way, now you’ve something to look forward to.” I turn in his hold, then rest my arms on his shoulders and tease my fingers through his short, messy hair. “Thanks for the present,” I whisper, lifting up onto my tippy-toes, and place a light kiss on his lips. “I love it, Rohan.”