Page 15 of The Enforcer's Redemption

"Did he treat you well?" I ask her softly, and the flash of anger in her eyes as she looks up at me tells me what I need to know. She probably spent this entire time while I was meeting with Ronan complaining and bitching, and Connor probably put her in her place a few times.

"Can we leave now? And can I call my father, please? I want to hear how my family is doing." Isla rises and smooths the cream-colored fabric of her skirt down her legs. I let my eyes wander across her curves to her feet and then back up to her face. The way her light blue blouse hugs her tits is attractive.

"Come," I tell her, and I jerk my head toward the door. When we walk back through the hallway and out the front door, I notice Brynn peeling himself off the floor with Connor's help. No doubt, he'll go squealing like a sow to the first fifty people he sees, and he'll be doing me a favor, reinforcing that I'm the one who lays down the law in this family, and they'll all start to get the picture that I’m not to be fucked with.

"Your phone?" Isla asks, trailing behind me as we descend the steps toward my car. Nicholas has the engine running, waiting for us to climb in, but he knows better than to get out and open the door when I've had a meeting with my older brother. I’m never in a good mood.

"Later," I grumble again, and I open the door for her to climb in. She stands obstinately and stomps her foot.

"Now. It's been weeks since I've spoken with them and I'd like to know how they're doing." Her severe expression doesn't move me, though her stubbornness does annoy me some.

"Someone burned one of their outbuildings down and they lost a few sheep. They're fine. I have my men there. Now, get in the car."

I leave no room in my order for her to resist me, so she climbs in but not before glaring at me coldly. I roll my neck around and stretch my shoulders before climbing into the car and tapping on the dividing wall. Nicholas takes the hint and pulls the car forward as I shut the door.

"Is this how you'll treat me once we're married? Like a prisoner?" Isla really is feisty today. I like her spunk. I just don't like how she's taking her anger out on me as if I have any choice in this situation either.

"If you were my wife, you'd be on your knees with my cock down your throat right now," I tell her as I loosen my tie. She scoffs as I stare out the window. This attitude and snark isn't exactly the sort of personality I thought I'd be marrying myself to, either. She could go a long way toward being more attractive as a mate if she were a little less bitchy.

"You're lucky I don't seduce you just to put that slug in my mouth and bite it off."

Her biting comment opens the dam I've had holding back the worst of my anger over Brynn's narking, and my hand shoots out, grabbing her by the back of her neck with a hefty grip on her tangled waves. She gasps as I pull her toward me with so much force her body lurches off the seat and her knees land on the floor at my feet.

"Say it again," I threaten, and her eyes go wide with fright. "Go ahead and tell me who you really are, Isla, because I want to know who I'm marrying. You think I like this?"

I expect her to cower, to cry, to whimper and plead for me to let her go, but this shrew isn't broken easily. She tries to shake her head, and her scowl only deepens as she chokes out, "You like fucking me…"

Her comment takes me by surprise because she's right. I do like fucking her. I like it enough that I'm going soft, allowing myself to see her as a lady and not as a job, which is what this is supposed to be. But I'm not a monster, not the sort of man who just uses a woman as a means to an end and then tosses her aside, and Isla isn't a tool or a bargaining chip.

The uncertainty in her eyes, I've seen it before when I looked in the mirror. I've felt it. As rebellious as she is, as insistent thatwe are forcing her against her will, as much as she wants to run away and not fulfill her duty in this arrangement, I find myself drawn to her. I should abhor her disloyalty, but I find a common thread running through my own heart and I can't deny it.

My lips close over hers as she gasps and pushes my chest away. I kiss her hard, claiming that intimacy for us, desperate to prove to her that we are the same, that in our hearts, we are one and we haven't even spoken the vows thrust on us. Isla's hands beat at my chest for a moment, her struggling, muffled, vocalized rejection swallowed by my kisses until she softens and rests her hands on my biceps.

Then she kisses me back, no longer pushing me away but now pulling my lapels toward her. Her kiss grows hungrier, devouring my attention. Her hands move to my thighs, and I tighten my grip on her hair as she rises and straddles me. I pull her mouth hard against mine and don't give her a second of reprieve to breathe. My dick is swelling, demanding to be in her and show her how alike we really are.

"Mother of God," she breathes when I let my lips trail down her throat to the hollow near her collarbone. I suck it and bite the soft flesh as she reaches for my belt buckle and begins to undo my pants. I feel her pulse beneath my lips and relish it as she works the zip of my pants.

I want to tell her all the ways I can make her life everything she hopes it will be, but unless she sees it with her own eyes—that she'll be happier and safer here in this family than anywhere else—she'll never believe me. I have to show her, and I’m starting right now.

"You're a damn right wagon," I growl then bite her collar bone, not hard enough to draw blood, but enough that she hisses.

"Feckin' cunt, just own me already." Her neediness comes across in panting breaths, groping hands, writhing hips as she frees my hard dick and strokes it. She palms my balls in one hand as she strokes me. The sensations are incredible.

My hand reaches beneath her skirt, and I feel the moisture there, rubbing it with the back of my pointer finger as my other hand still mercilessly clutches her hair. I hook a finger through the crotch of her panties, and with one hard pull, I split them so the fabric parts and her core is exposed to me. Then I thrust my finger in and she hisses, turning her mouth back down to steal another kiss.

Her pussy is hot and wet, clenching around my finger as she strokes my cock. I add another while her tongue dances with mine, her hands fisting my shirt, digging into my chest. "God, I'm gonna fuckin' wreck you," I growl, knowing full well that she'll only ever be mine now.

"I know," she whines as she grinds against my hand. Her pussy rubs against my palm as my fingers sink into her. Her eagerness urges me onward.

She's so damn responsive, so ready for me. I pull my fingers out of her and line up my shaft, pressing the head against her entrance. She moans into my mouth as I begin to push in. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, I breach her. Her walls clench around me, the tightness almost too much.

"Jaysus, you're so feckin' tight," I groan. I pull back slightly and plunge back in again, this time burying myself a little deeper. As I do, the car rocks over a pothole and my cock slams into her back wall, making her hiss. Her nails dig into my skin as she arches her back, taking more of me inside her. "That's it, love," I coax her. "Take every inch of me."

Isla is a blubbering mess, shuddering and riding me, rising and falling as I thrust into her. My thumb finds her clit, and I rub it in circles as my other hand fists her hair, guiding her mouth back to mine. Her moans vibrate in my mouth, her pussy squeezing me tighter with every stroke.

"That's right, moan for me," I tell her between kisses. "Show me how much you want this." I give her every inch of my length now, thrusting hard and making sure she feels it.

"I… I… Holy mother, I want you." Her words are punctuated by the hard collision of our bodies connecting as we fuck each other senseless. My hand is crushed between us, but I don’t relent.

---