Page 117 of Mob Saint

I run my hand up her back as far as I can reach. I trail my fingertips along her spine until I get to her arse. My thumb presses against the hole, the tip slipping in.

“You still haven’t fucked me there, Daddy. I can’t truly belong to you until you’ve marked me inside there, too. Until you’ve been inside me and shot your cum into me. Seamus, I’ve worn plugs before, but no man’s ever been inside my ass. I’m an anal virgin. I need you to claim that because it’s the only thing I can give you that I’ve never given anyone else.”

“Turn around.” I demand it, and she’s quick to obey. “Lean forward.”

When she does, I fist her hair rougher than I ever have before. I intend it to hurt—not harm—hurt. She pants while she keeps riding me, and I don’t stop her. I keep my voice low. It’s not only I don’t want anyone hearing me having sex with my girlfriend. I don’t want anyone to hear the most intimate things we say.

“You might be my little anal virgin now, but you’re going to be my whore soon enough. You’re going to beg Daddy to fuck your arse because that’s what whores do.”

“Yes, Daddy. I’ll be your slut. You can fuck my cunt until I’m too sore to take any more. Then you can fuck my ass until I’m begging you to stop, but I don’t safe word because I really don’t want to stop. Not truly. I want to look in the mirror and see bruises you left from holding onto me.”

“I’ll mark you however I want.” I tug her hair hard. “Look at me.” She does as best she can. “You belong to me. I own every part of you to do whatever the fuck I want. Do you want to stop me?”

“No, Daddy.”

“Good because you can’t.”

I watch her like a hawk to make sure our dirty talk doesn’t go too far. I don’t want to scare her or make her think I’m threatening her. Despite how it must hurt, she leans to whisper in my ear. I let go of her hair, fearful I will harm her with pain she doesn’t enjoy.

“Daddy, stop worrying. We’re roleplaying, and I know that. But I know there’s also an element of truth to the last part. I know I’m not your sub, but I want to submit to your kind of possessiveness. I can be who I need to be and want to be because of it. I am yours, Seamus, but that’s because I know you’re mine just as much.”

“I am, T. I’ve always been meant to be yours. You have all of me. Heart, mind, and body. You’re part of my soul.”

“You’re part of mine too.”

“Tá mé chun tú a phósadh.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Tiera

It’s been six weeks since the gunfight at the O.K. Corral. It took Seamus nearly three weeks to fully heal. The man was like a puppy straining on his leash. When Meridith—a woman who’s gentle but delightfully terrifying to Seamus—finally cleared him to work out again, he took that to mean vigorous sex with me. He kept us locked away in his place for ten days—twice what he promised me. We went for walks and the park to kick the soccer ball around, so he didn’t truly keep us isolated. I know there were men from his family somewhere nearby. I didn’t see them, but I know he wouldn’t have let us go out into the open without them. We had those ten days to ourselves. No one called him about work. They didn’t text either.

He deleted a text from Makayla without reading it. I saw it come in, and I saw he hadn’t read the last one. He blocked her. I thought it was unnecessary, but he said he wasn’t interested in anything she had to say since he’d already explained he’d met someone and that they were over.

I’ve been ignoring Gareth’s calls, and so has Seamus. He resorted to calling Dillan, but Dillan refused to speak to him if Seamus wouldn’t. The last of it is all coming out right now. Gareth just called. I hesitated, but I answered.

“Tiernan, I can’t tell you how I figured out where Dad lived the whole time he was alive, but I did. I just spent six hours there tearing it apart. Like ripping up the flooring, putting holes through the drywall. I found a lock box with documents and email printouts.”

“Seamus isn’t here. He should hear all of this too.”

“I spoke to him a few hours ago. He said I should call you.”

Seamus and I agreed yesterday I would speak to Gareth because we suspected he learned shit. I told Seamus I would be fine to hear whatever it is without him, but I would prefer if he heard it straight from Gareth too. I’d meant together, but this will have to do.

“What’d you find out?”

“The real reason Keith wanted to break you and Aaron up is because Aaron discovered he and Dad were embezzling from our widows fund.”

How fucking cliché and trite is that?

I’m only slightly surprised. I listen as Gareth continues.

“When Aaron threatened to take you and disappear, Dad took him seriously. He decided Aaron was a credible threat that needed to go away. That’s when he started tapping the house phone and bugging your place. He started sending the photos and videos to me to make it look like someone from the outside was stalking you. Tiernan, I really hate this part the most. I’m so sorry. He’d originally told me that he thought the calls before the accident were from some guy in Chicago trying to pressure us. The emails I found make it look like he thought he’d laid the foundation for the car accident by making this guy out to be some stalker who flipped out because you were having another man’s—your husband’s—baby.”

“Except I didn’t die.”

My rage surges back, and I want to throw something.

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