Page 51 of Dirty Dylan: Dirty Dusters

“Oh, is that right?” She smirks up at me, my pre-cum now glossing her lips.

I curse as she takes my cock deep. Fisting her hair tighter, I immediately start to fuck her mouth.

Hard. Fast. Wet.

I know she enjoys it like that. We both do. Her eyes never leave mine as she takes every inch of my dick over and over, causing a mixed trail of pre-cum and saliva to drip down her chin.

It doesn’t take long. My balls tighten, and I nod to let her know I’m about to blow.

The first wave of pleasure has me almost doubling over with its intensity, and I watch as she nearly chokes on my release before greedily swallowing it down. I continue to fuck her mouth, gentler now, giving her time to drink every last fucking drop. And she does. She then licks my cock clean before finishing off with a satisfying smack of her lips, causing us both to laugh out loud.

I want to reach down and pull her up to me, but her mouth has sucked all the strength out my legs. When she eventually stands, I briefly lose myself in those baby blues of hers before grabbing the back of her head, pulling her in, and devouring her mouth.

I can taste the musky tang of my cum on her tongue. I don’t want her sucking any other man’s dick. Not fucking ever. I feel violent at the thought of it.

But she’s not mine. And she never will be. My fate was sealed earlier today.

Grace Ryan. Thirty years old. A computer expert with a background in hacking and with the best mobster parents Dublin has to offer. Her folks are friends with my Uncle Mick and his wife. We’re a match made in heaven, according to my parents and hers.

My idea of hell now all I crave is the woman in front of me.

Fuck buddy. Fuck buddy. Fuck buddy.

Maybe it’s for the best. Maybe Jessie’s lack of urgency about furnishing me with personal details is her way of saying that’s all she wants. Because that’s all I’ll ever be able to give her now, and even then, only for the short term.

They’ve given me a week to make up my mind, but I know the decision’s already been made on my behalf. Saying no would just fall on deaf ears. It’s not an option. It wasn’t for Paddy. The contracts will have been drawn up and signed.

The ink on the story of my life is now dry.

I’ve always done my parents’ bidding. Done what was expected. Done what was asked. Why would this time be any different?

In one week they’ll announce to the rest of the family that I’ve begun the courting process. Then my cards will be well and truly marked.

Grace Ryan will be my wife, whether I like it or not.

CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE

ROISIN

Private Dining Room, Palace Hotel, Manhattan

I sipon my Bloody Mary as I wait for my guests to arrive. My phone vibrates. I take it from my handbag, which has been set on a gilded side table. As I expected, it’s a photo of my grandbaby, Caoimhe, sent by my daughter-in-law, Sarah. I smile at the image of the red-haired wee one. She’s the double of our Cillian at that age and my pride and joy.

I love the very bones of her. I’d do anything for her.

One grandchild. I want more. Lots more. I know Sarah and Cillian are trying for number two, but the onus can’t just be on them. Paddy will be married soon enough. Eoin and Dylan… well, their da and I have found them good Irish girls. Sensible girls. Girls from the right background, with the correct breeding and mobster credentials. I know our Dyl will do as he’s told. He always has done. He’s a good boy. Dylan’s not my concern.

Paddy and Eoin are. I’m not sure if they’re not going to try to delay matters becauseshe’sdue back in Manhattan soon.

Jaine Jones.

The girl that’s turned the head of not just one but two of my sons. The girl that insulted me and Fergal by not turning up to a pre-arranged meeting. They say revenge is a dish best served cold. I’m a firm believer in that. What goes around comes around. She should have chosen more carefully who she so blatantly insulted that day. I’ve not forgotten. I never will. And I’ve made sure my Fergal hasn’t either. She will never get her heathen hands on either of my two boys.

Hell will freeze over first. And hopefully with her in it.

I watch as Molly McGrath enters the room. The future Ma Duster if she plays her cards right. She’s dressed in a pinstriped business suit. Ever the professional is Molly. She’s now working alongside our Paddy learning the legal ropes of our organization.

I have to grudgingly admire Jaine for what she’s achieved in her career. But I will make it one of my own life goals to ensure Molly achieves just as much success, if not more. I don’t care how much it costs or who we have to employ to guide her.

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