Wicked Island Of Ireland - Chapter 0
Prologue
In a cheap motel on the outskirts of Raven, England, where sighs of pleasure echoed through paper-thin walls, an aristocratic white man knelt on the bed.
His silver-tinged hair caught what little light filtered through the grimy windows, and his eyes shone an impossible shade of blue.
His black suit and expensive watch looked jarringly out of place against the worn bedding.
As if attempting to blend into the seedy surroundings, he methodically stripped off his jacket, shirt, and timepiece, letting each piece fall carelessly to the floor.
The woman, half-reclined on the bed with red stilettos still clinging to her feet, shrank back from his predatory movements.
“Stop… this isn’t why you came here.”
His eyes betrayed a desperate thirst, pupils dilating as they fixed upon her. Though they seemed to plead for understanding, she forced herself to look away.
“I… I don’t want to see you anymore.”
Her voice cracked at the edges, dry and brittle. He seemed to savor even this sound of distress, though his lips twisted with displeasure.
“You should have said that before we shared a bed. I’m bewitched by you – body and soul. There’s no going back to who I was before.”
He parted her knees decisively, claiming his territory.
Preparing for more vigorous activity, he extracted his phone and wallet from his back pockets, tossing them aside with the same careless abandon as his clothes.
All that remained on his body were wireless earbuds and trousers. When the woman threw a blanket at him, trying to disrupt his intense focus on her exposed flesh, he barely noticed.
In the dim room, two dark silhouettes merged into violent motion. The larger shadow soon pinned the smaller one beneath it, going still.
In that frozen moment, he looked down at her with aching accusation.
“How is the baby?”
His brow furrowed with irritation, but he still tried to catch her gaze. She remained silent, watching his expression grow increasingly savage.
“Did you enjoy f^cking him while carrying my child? Nothing quite like s3x with your life on the line, right?”
His index finger traced the underwear between her parted thighs. When she pressed her lips shut and turned away from his touch, he roughly tore at her blouse.
“Answer me. Tell me if my child is growing safely inside you.”
He watched her reactions with nervous intensity, knowing that if she were truly pregnant, she would resist any intimate contact.
But she only gazed sadly at the tattoo on her right hip that read ‘J-D.ISOO’.
Only after letting him suffer in uncertainty did, she finally respond.
“The pregnancy… I was too hasty. If I worried you, I’m truly, truly sorry.”
An apology rang out instead of confirmation. His blue eyes darkened with disappointment before regaining their previous intensity.
“At least you didn’t miscarry.”
“…”
“Then what was all that about never wanting to see me again?”
If he had truly been concerned about a miscarriage, he shouldn’t have started with intimidation. She turned her face to the wall, avoiding him.
“…”
“Answer me. Those words kept me awake for over two months.”
“I don’t know.”
“You hurt me and don’t even know why?”
“I need time.”
“Time? …You’re planning to run away again.”
“That’s not it. I really need time to think.”
He showed no intention of moving off her body.
“Then think while we make a baby. I’ve taken care of protection. Even if you hate me, you seem to like children.”
He buried his face in her bra, inhaling deeply. When she clutched the bed sheets in response to the sensation of his mouth on her skin, he continued:
“If we try hard enough, we’ll make a baby as beautiful as you. I’ll make sure to do it properly so there are no regrets later. Think carefully.”
“No, don’t—!”
A breeze through the partially open door stirred the red curtains. Above them, a woman moaned like a cat, lost in pleasure.
She felt she would be next. She pulled back, stabbing the mattress with her red stiletto.
“Hayden, I don’t want to see you anymore. It’ll put you in danger too, no, don’t—mmph!”
He tore her stockings and pushed her panties aside.
“You were the one who seduced me when I was minding my own business. Though I suppose I’m also at fault for falling for it, even knowing your habit of using people.”
His firm fingers gently pressed against her most sensitive spot, producing wet sounds that filled the room. Though he groaned at the sound, his next words were sharp as ice.
“Why are you so wet? Who were you with before I came?”
After their time apart, he couldn’t fully trust her. She struggled, trying to pull away.
“We don’t have time for this. They might raid us. They might have, nnh, followed you, ah, aah…”
He looked down at her urgent protests with dark excitement.
They existed in different worlds. Unable to accept this, he turned her face away from the window and pulled her deeper into this motel world of carnal sounds.
“It doesn’t matter. I have my men stationed throughout this place.”
Click—the sound of his belt unbuckling made her throw her head back, breath catching.
She knew how good she would feel soon.
In their mere fifteen days together, she had become addicted to the physical pleasure he gave her.
Already, heat was rising from below, making her lips tremble.
Then she wondered:
Why was she in this shabby motel room?
Where exactly had things gone wrong, and what mistake had led her here?