Page 20 of The Enforcer's Redemption

"He's a dangerous man, Isla." Declan walks toward me, brushing a hand through his soggy locks. Water drips from his soggy strands and runs across his chest. The Celtic cross there suggests loyalty to his brothers and their criminal organization. His other tattoos aren't as meaningful, and I can admire how he stands by his brothers. But their sins are just too dark to overlook.

"You're a dangerous man." My words are hollow. I'm still numb. I don't really know if I believe that anymore, that Declan is a dangerous man—at least not to me. He's done nothing but try to convince me to let him protect me. He's not laid a hand on me except the times I asked for it. But I saw how he slaughtered those men—six of them in cold blood, lying on that pavement.

"They've already tried to kill you once. If they can't do that, they'll go after your family. And they’ve already tried that too." He stalks forward using the corner of the towel to dry his arm, and I jerk up in the bed.

My mind goes to my father and mother, to Rebecca. Sebastian is hunting down everything I hold dear, and all over a measly two hundred grand. His net worth is hundreds of millions. Why does he even care about it?

"I'll give it back," I say, standing up. The thin T-shirt I wear—one of Declan's he loaned me—and my panties are hardly enough to keep me warm or comfortable. I wrap my arms over my middle and look him in the eye. "I know right where it is. I can go dig it up and give it back. Please…" I want him to help me.

I'm under no illusion that he cares about me at all. This entire thing is just an arrangement to him. It doesn't matter that my edge toward him has started to soften or that I'm seeing things about him that I don't hate. It doesn't matter that he treats me nicely or protects me or that I feel the safest when I'm in hisarms now—I have since that moment on the street when that blood from his shirt stained my palm.

I know I'm nothing more than a business transaction to him and he won't even stop to think about it if he has to put a bullet in my head. I'm a means to an end, but I have to plead with his human side, the side I see staring back at me right now. My family can't be harmed. It terrifies me.

"He doesn't care about the money," Declan says, walking toward his dresser. He lets the towel fall, his back to me. I see the scars there, ones I remember watching being sewn up and a few more I don't remember. But I've felt them under my fingertips when he had me, made me his.

"Then make him care," I snap, stalking over to him. His head hangs, and I stand by his side, glaring. "Go fecking find him and make him take it back." I'm heaving, trembling with the realization that I've put a bullseye on my family's backs. It probably comes across as anger, because despite what they say about me, I'm not a fucking banshee. I'm not going to break down crying.

"It doesn’t work that way."

"Fecking make it work," I say, jabbing a finger into his chest. He's standing here naked in front of me, but I'm not even looking at the corded muscles on his ribs and abs or the fact that his dick is halfway stiff, probably from being around me while he's nude. I need answers, and I need comfort, and it's not easy for me to ask for it, especially from someone I should hate.

"I can't just snap my fingers, Isla," he says, and he looks up at me with a jade storm in his eyes. The hints of emerald are stillflashing compassion, but I can see his temper roiling. If I anger him enough, maybe then he'll do something.

"So you'll let them take me? And what, rape me, slit my throat, murder my family? Do you think a marriage license will keep me safe?" My whole body is heaving now, shaking from fear and rage. My head throbs harder, and I feel like I might throw up, and when he opens his mouth to protest, it makes me snap.

"Mother of God, woman, you?—"

I smack him hard, so hard his head pops to the left before his hand shoots up and grabs my wrist. He backs me against the wall and has both my arms pinned over my head before I can even protest, and his hot breath dances over my face.

"I tried to tell you, Isla, that the only way out of this is to trust me to protect you." He's strong, squared shoulders, chiseled muscles. My body floods with warmth as I imagine him pulling me against his chest to safety, not at all what my anger wants, but the fearful child inside me, the one terrified of losing her parents and only sibling, craves it.

"Screw off. I'm not marrying you," I blurt, but I know I will. I'll do anything to save them. This is all my doing. I can't live with that guilt.

"Why can't you just listen to me? How many more times do they have to come at you before you do?" He grits his teeth, and I turn my head away. I know he's right, and I hate it. They're coming like a devil in the night, and I don't have any choice but to submit to him.

"What are you going to do, fuck me into submission?" My words are harmless, a taunt flipped his way to incite his anger. Maybe then, he will unleash the beast I know too well, the one whoconsumes my doubts and reminds me of how powerful he is. Makes me feel safe.

"Do you want me to fuck you into submission?" His lips are dangerously close to my ear now, his cock hard and pressed on my bare thigh. He gets off on this too.

"I'm expecting nothing less."

Declan bites my earlobe but he doesn't release my hands. My body shudders as his other hand gropes my tit, squeezing and kneading it. I arch my back, silently begging for more. His hand travels down to the hem of my shirt, lifting it up and off in one fluid motion. I'm now naked except for my panties, but not for long. He hooks his fingers on the waistband and pulls them down, leaving me bare and exposed to his hungry eyes.

"Spread your legs," he growls as he releases my hands. I do as I'm told because defiance is no longer an option. He steps back, his erection still throbbing between his legs. "You're so wet." He smirks, running a finger through my folds and bringing it to my lips. "Taste yourself."

I taste myself on his finger, the musk of my arousal mixed with my shame. I close my eyes and suck his digit, moaning softly as he caresses my breast.

"That's it, baby." His voice is low, husky, and it sends shivers down my spine. He pushes two fingers inside me roughly, testing my entrance before he pulls out and brings them to my lips again. "Open your eyes. Look at me." I open my eyes reluctantly and meet his dark ones. "You want this, don't you?"

"Yes," I whimper. "I want you to possess me." There’s something about it, the way he dominates me and makes me feel small. It feels safe, and I don’t know why. Maybe because in myweakness, he’s strong and I can trust that strength, or maybe it’s something else. Maybe I’m falling for him.

Declan steps forward and pushes me against the wall, his erection pressing against my core. "Say it again, Isla. Tell me you want me to fuck you into submission. Tell me you want me to dominate you and force you to be my fuck toy.”

"I—" I gasp as he enters me roughly, stretching me to the limit. "Ah, God!"

"Say it!" he growls, thrusting into me mercilessly.

"Yes… Make me your toy," I moan, my nails digging into his thighs. He's not gentle, but I don't want him to be. I want him to show me how much he needs this, how much he needs me. His hips smack against mine, each impact sending jolts of pleasure through my body. Then his hand comes down on the side of my ass in a hard crack that shakes me.

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