Page 45 of Mob Princess

This isn’t a scene or roleplaying. This isn’t him being a Dom, and me being a sub. This is just us. He gets what I need. It feels pretty fucking shitty to admit your father didn’t give two fucks about you past how useful you were to his ambitions. That your brother conveniently cares about you, but that’s usually to get him what he wants. Sean knows I need to feel like I’m more than just a chess piece. That I matter to him.

“Cailín, I know this is painful for you to tell me. I know it’s humiliating. You hide it well, but not well enough from me. If you want to keep telling me the past, I will always listen. But if you don’t want to tell me more, or you don’t want me to know more, then I won’t push you. I’ll hold you until I’m calm enough not to lose my shite on your brother. Will you let me?”

I lean forward and whisper to him after kissing his cheek. “As Lina and Sean, I’ll let you. As cailín and nounours, make me.”

I sit back and press my hand over his that’s still on my throat. I urge him to tighten his hold. It’s not breath play because it remains easy to breathe. But it makes it harder to take a deep inhale. He pulls me forward until my nose nearly brushes his.

“I still have to go, Lina. For your sake, I won’t lose my patience. But the moment your brother looks the wrong way at you, says the wrong thing, thinks the wrong fecking thing, I will make sure he and everyone else understand you’re mine. We will figure out what we are to each other with time. We can define our relationship into whatever it turns out to be. Nothing about that changes the fact you’re mine. Whether you’re my friend or my partner, you are mine to protect and take care of. By the time I leave Boston, no one will doubt that.”

I reach between us and stroke him. I move my hand tight and fast, and it doesn’t take long since he was halfway hard already. I rise on my knees and sink onto his cock. He lets go of my hair and brings his hand down on my ass. He releases my throat.

“Are you in control now, little one?” His voice is an invitation to sin.

“Not at all. Knowing I’m yours is the most arousing thing ever. I want you to know how strongly I agree.” And I do. Whether he’s my friend, my lover, my boyfriend, my whatever, I’m his.

“Lina, it goes both ways. I’m yours. Completely.”

Our gazes meet, and I know he’s letting me in even further. I’m in no woman’s land. I don’t think he’s ever opened himself up like this. It’s precious, and I know that.

“Thank you.”

He rolls us, so I’m on the bottom. He guides my left leg over his hip while he lifts my right. He helps hold that one up while balancing with one hand. He drives into me over and over. I’ll be sore in the morning. I’ll remember I’m his. Telling him about my family blew big chunks. But all of this right now—fucking hell, it’s motherfucking divine.

“May I come, Sir?”

“Yes.” He barks the answer.

My fingers press into his upper arms—there’s too much muscle for them to sink into anything—as my cunt contracts around him. Pleasure starts as that unique sensation inside my pussy and spreads as I orgasm. My entire body tenses as I arch my neck.

“Sean!”

“Say my name.”

“Sean!”

“Say it.”

“Sean!”

“That’s right, little girl. It’s my name you’re saying because I belong to you.”

“Fuck, that’s hot. Don’t stop. Please.”

“I’m not going to.”

He slams into me extra hard, pushing me up the bed. If it weren’t for his weight on me, I might slide out from under him. I don’t know if it’s even a minute later that I come again. This is so intense. It’s my nails that press into his arms as my fingers turn into talons. It’s so consuming I almost want to run from it, yet I want this ecstasy to last until I die. Hell, sex with him may kill me. My heart feels like it’s going to beat right out of my chest.

“Lina!”

He thrusts one more time before tensing. Then he rocks his hips three more times before scooping me up and rolling us again, so he doesn’t crush me. I could sleep for a week or run a marathon right now. I’m not sure which. I may not have the longest list of men I’ve slept with, but it’s more than long enough. Sex with Sean defies reality—at least the reality I’ve known so far.

Yes. The way we fit together physically has a lot to do with it. But it’s so much more than that. I like dirty talk. I have since I got confident enough to try it. I suppose you could categorize the things Sean said as dirty talk. It doesn’t feel that way, though. Maybe it’s a little over the top because it’s during sex. That doesn’t make it any less sincere or true.

That begs the question: How the fuck is that possible? We’ve texted for three and a half weeks and talked on the phone briefly right after the last thread. That was only yesterday. We went to lunch together. We did hook up the day we met, and I knew something was different even then. I was never interested in psychology before meeting Sean. At least not beyond what makes people in power tick. And that was to understand human nature in context of national security. But I’m interested now. I want to understand how every part of me is attracted to him so fast. This is more than a dopamine hit or a rush of adrenaline. I feel it every time our eyes lock.

“Cailín?”

“Hmm?”

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