Page 13 of The Enforcer's Redemption

“Say it again,” I demand, then slap her other cheek.

“I… I…” She pants, then moans as I spank her again. “I belong to you.”

“That’s my good girl.” I praise her, then slam inside her one last time. “I…” I groan, then my seed spurts into her. With long, slow thrusts, I continue pumping into her, gripping her hip and claiming her lips in a heated kiss again. She’s yielded now, allowing me to move with fluidity and freedom. Her body grows limp under me.

We both pant and catch our breaths as my cock softens inside her. Isla’s eyes meet mine, and for the first time, I don’t see hatred in them. I see acceptance. I hover over her, wishing I could take the weight of this situation off both of our shoulders so we could have a chance to learn what it means to fall in love instead of being shoved together like two jigsaw puzzle pieces that don’t fit.

"I wish you wouldn't fight me. There are forces at play that you know nothing about, things no one has told you. I need to protect you, Aisling." I rub the tip of my nose across hers, and she blinks slowly then turns her head away from me. "I don't like this any more than you do, but you know you're mine now."

"For now," she says calmly, and I don't know what she means by it, but she's wrong. This isn't a temporary thing. Isla O'Connoris permanently my property now, and there is nothing she or anyone else except her father can do about it.

I pull out, backing away. The interchange between us is cold now, the heat of our passion dying down. She rolls to her side and stares at the pile of her clothing on the floor. I'd get it for her, but I like her there naked on the bed. I dress slowly and watch her as she blinks lazily, seems groggy.

We're not that different. Her heart to run, my thirst for freedom. It's a kindred spirit thing we share, something no one told us we had to share or forced upon either of us. And while I may be getting the better end of the deal here, there is still a lot for her to embrace and enjoy.

"I'll send dinner…" I tell her as I button the last few buttons on my shirt.

"Not hungry," comes her reply, but I know she'll eat. She always does.

"I'll come back later." When I step into the hallway, Rian is there waiting. I give him orders not to let her outside again, then scold him for turning his back on her for a single second. We lock her in and he follows me downstairs.

Isla won't be trying to run again because she's under lock and key now. I just wish there were a way I could convince her the locks are there for her protection and not to imprison her, so I could let her be free too. One day, I will. For now, I have to do what I have to do.

10

ISLA

I'm cold, but lying here shivering in the air conditioning after being covered in sweat from the run and that romp feels good. It feels better than the numb ache hollowing me out inside. I lie perfectly still, afraid to break the trance I'm under. Relaxation has gripped my body, moves through every cell, snaking its way through my core and up to my chest and back again.

Declan is a master at owning me. I have to admit I loved what he did, how he dominated me, forced the truth of my desire for him to come out. I want him. I can't keep it a secret. Maybe I should never have tried to. Part of me loves how he possesses me body, soul, and spirit, but part of me hates myself.

The girlish crush I have on him is disgusting. Men like him are animals, taking what they want and getting away with it. I should hate him, be repulsed by the way he thinks he can walk right in here and bed me without consent. But I can't. I've had eyes for him for years, and I never told a single soul except Rebecca.

I roll to my stomach and turn my head so my eyes remain fixed on my clothing across the room. I feel his sex drain from my body and think how differently things could have gone. Perhaps I'd still dislike him or resist the marriage that's supposed to happen between us, but had he asked me to dinner, at least tried to woo me in a natural way, maybe this would feel different. Maybe I wouldn't feel like I was losing myself to something I'd never come back from.

I push myself up from the mattress and stare at my feet. The moisture between my thighs disgusts me but reminds me of how giddy his body made me feel. I want to wash him off me, but I want to pull him back in, feel his strength, revel in the pillar of safety I felt the moment he told me I belong to him now. Why did it do that to me? Why am I so weak?

Forcing myself to my feet, I feel weak in the knees. I stand for a moment before walking, moving toward the clothing on the floor. The phone is there, hidden in the pile of cloth that is now soiled with mud and sweat. I'm sure they're still looking for it, and I may only have a few minutes longer with it. I can't waste the precious time lying around sulking about the best sex of my life.

I rifle through the skirt and find the phone tangled in the dirty material, then I walk to the dresser and pull out fresh underwear, a camisole, and some shorts. With a glance toward the door, I slip into the bathroom and shut it. There's no lock, but I can run the hot water as a cover for the noise.

I quickly wash myself in a whore's bath, then dress and turn on the shower water before I sit on the closed toilet and dial my father’s number. He picks up on the third ring.

"Mick here, what can I do for you?"

"Da," I whimper, and it's the first hint of weakness I've allowed myself to truly display. "It's Isla."

"Aisling, God's graces, how are you?" he asks. He sounds frantic as I hear a muffled, "Brennan, it's her."

"I'm okay, Da. How is Mum?" My hand trembles. I'm shaking like a leaf in a hurricane waiting for them to burst in and take the phone from me. I know they'll be furious, but it's not like I'm arranging a coup. I'm calling my family to let them know I'm okay.

"Mum is worried, Rebecca too. We're fine, Aisling. Are you okay? How is he treating you?" Da sounds worried, but not overly so. I know he's had a longstanding relationship with the O'Rourke family, though I'm not sure to what extent he's involved. Da is a good man, not a criminal like these men who hold me hostage. I'm sure his debts weren't even his fault, a bad loan or a mistake of some kind.

"He's a kind man, Da," I tell him, and while Declan hasn't laid a hand on me, I'm not sure I believe myself. The way he pinned me to that mattress showed me the beast inside him, though I can't deny how much I enjoyed it.

"Good, good, Isla," he says, switching to my more intimate name, the one I prefer. "This isn't the way I wanted this. You know that, right?"

"I know, Da." My sense of duty to my family is strong. It always has been. That's why I stole, to make sure my family could be protected and provided for. I can still follow my plan. I can still make us disappear if my father goes along with it. "Da?"

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