Page 21 of The Enforcer's Redemption

“Oh, God,” I whimper, edging closer to orgasm, pushing my body against his in a desperate attempt to feel him deeper inside me.

“You like that, don’t you?” he growls, smirking as he spanks me again, this time harder. “Tell me you like it.”

“I… I like it,” I moan, my body on fire as he pounds into me relentlessly. Pain and pleasure intertwine as one, the sting of his hand a delicious reminder of who has control here.

“Say it louder, Isla. Tell me how much you love it when I mark you as mine.” It’s humiliating and degrading, but he’s right—I do love it. I love it so much, I keep coming back when I know my ultimate goal is to be far away from him, so far away from this life.

“I … love it…” I pant, and an orgasm racks my body, making me jolt and convulse as he continues to fuck me against the wall. I’m trembling, weak in the knees as his scent curls around me and sucks me deeper into his vortex.

When he pulls out, I think I’m free, ready to curl up on the bed and resign myself to my fate, but he has other plans. Declan turns me around and forces my body to bend over his dresser. His dick prods at my backside as he grips my hair and pulls my head back at an odd angle.

“Feck, your ass is sexy…” His dick slides up and down my crack, smearing my moisture around.

“No, Declan… not there,” I whimper, but it’s too late. He’s already inside me, stretching me in a way that burns like hellfire but feels so damn good. He pulls out and shoves his cock back in, harder this time, making me scream.

“Relax, Princess.” He grits his teeth, and I clench around him. God, it feels so good, I can’t breathe. “That’s it, take Daddy’s cock.”

“Daddy?” I moan as he thrusts into me again and again.

“Yes, I’m your daddy now, and you’re my little toy. Say it.” His grip on my hair tightens, his thrusts harder and faster as he pounds into me relentlessly.

“I… I’m your little toy.” My whimpers precede a second orgasm, this one more powerful than the first. And he seems to get off even more on it, feeling the pulsing of my tight hole around his thick girth. I feel like I’m tearing in two, but it’s the most exquisite feeling I’ve had in my life.

How can I simultaneously hate everything this man stands for, everything I'm being forced to do for my family, and still find that I'm in love? How can I enjoy this when I hate it in principle and in deed?

I feel his release deep inside me and shudder as he lets go of my hair. I lie there draped over the end of the dresser as he pumps in and out of me a few more times then pulls out. It hurts, feels like I'm split open, but the relaxation comes in waves. I'm dizzy and weak. He helps me to bed and covers me.

When he presses a kiss to my forehead, he promises, "You'll see, Isla. I'll take care of you. You'll have everything you want and your family will be safe. Rest now, Princess…"

And my eyes shut with fatigue and afterglow. I don’t have energy to fight right now. But I can dream of my escape and pray that when the time presents itself, I’ll have the courage and the desire to run. Heaven help me if I fall any farther.

15

DECLAN

The rehearsal for our wedding was so different from most typical weddings. I'm sure it's left Isla feeling terrified. She's done nothing but cling to me the entire evening. If the speech Ronan gave about the security team didn't scare her, the trip through the weapons cache had to have. He's gone so far overboard to make sure none of Sebastian's creeps sneak in to harm her, and I'm glad. I just wish the look of panic in her eyes weren't so desperate.

"You okay?" I ask for the thousandth time. Isla nods, but her arms wrap around my bicep tightly. She's flushed with perspiration, but she shivers as she holds me. "You look as white as a ghost."

"I'm fine," she says tightly as I walk her out of the large tent Ronan had erected in his yard toward the house.

I'm not sure if it's still the fact that she's being forced into this against her will or if it's really fear. Or maybe it's just pre-wedding nerves. I have a few of my own, but mine aren't centered around the idea of giving up my bachelorhood. Minestem from the idea that O’Reilly may try something and even the most prepared man can still be caught off guard.

"Time for dinner," Maeve says as she passes by our snail's pace. She touches Isla's arm lightly and smiles at us. With the wedding now only hours away, both Maeve and Ronan insist that we stay here tonight. They prepared a room for us against Isla's protest about the bride not seeing the groom before the wedding.

"Coming," I say, picking up my step. My brothers are all here, all prepared to stand as witnesses to this event that's supposed to be joyous and fulfilling. To this family, it will, but I'm afraid that Isla won't find it that. She'll run the first chance she gets, and maybe that's why Ronan has us stay here tonight. He's thinking the same thing. She wants out, not because she disdains her father or his well-being, but in spite of it, she still feels managed and controlled.

"Can I skip?" she asks, and the large saucer eyes she casts in my direction almost make me say yes to her, but my conscience is seared. My back is up against the wall.

"It will go smoothly, and then I can help you retire…" I keep the words tight and my tone firm, but I allow some remorse to creep out in my expression as I nod at her and gesture for her to enter the dining room first.

Her shoulders sag and she sits in an empty chair. I plant myself next to her and settle in. The chef has prepared a hearty meal of black pudding, Guinness stew, and boxty, and if I know my brother, there will be Bailey's cheesecake for dessert. My eyes devour the feast set out and make my mouth water and my stomach grumble.

One by one, my brothers file in, Ronan and Maeve seated near the head of the table. He offers the traditional Irish blessing and we dig in. I watch Isla begin to relax a little, sipping her wine and only nibbling at the food on her plate. She looks overly tired, and I'm about to suggest that we leave the table early so she can get to bed when Finn chimes in with a topic I wish I never had to hear again.

"So, D," he says cooly, using a childhood nickname reserved for conversation only when family is around, "I hear you have trouble stirring up…" Finn's dark eyes flick up to meet mine, and Ronan takes notice too. He sets his fork down and uses his napkin to wipe his mouth as I finish chewing my bite.

Isla's head hangs, but I can see the way she's so tense. I want to protect her from all of this family nonsense, but she has to get used to it at some point. We do family dinners a couple of times a month, and after tomorrow, she will be attending all of them.

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