Page 82 of Dirty Eoin

He curses me under his breath before proceeding to pound me into oblivion against the wall.

Ruthless, determined, selfish thrusts.

Everything hurts. Everything burns. But when he angles my hips, I’m lost to my pleasure as his dick connects with my sweet spot and I finally reach my high. My walls clench around him, and my release drenches his cock. My teeth find his neck and sink in, and he growls his annoyance before fucking me harder.

Pain. Pleasure. Alternating perfect thrusts.

Hot skin, damp with sweat. I lick the saltiness off, the raw taste of him combined with the spicy scent of his cologne turning me on even more.

He drops my feet to the floor, then spins me around before pushing my front against the wall with such force he knocks the air out of my lungs.

“Spread your legs.”

I do as he asks, then he tilts my hips upward and thrusts into me from behind. I hiss in complaint at how deep he’s gone. His response is unforgiving. He grips my hip, fists my hair painfully with the other hand, pulls me flush against his torso, then fucks me harder, faster, and deeper until his movements become erratic.

“Come with me.” It’s not a question, it’s a command, and he’ll expect me to do as I’m told.

The animalistic sound of his low growl as he finds his own pleasure causes me to spiral once more, my clenching walls demanding that he spill his seed deep inside me, his twitching cock obliging as he empties himself in long, steady thrusts.

We stay there leaning against the wall.

Hot. Sweaty. Panting.

Finally, he pulls out and steps back. I know exactly what he’s doing. He’s clearly fucked a thousand women in order to hone his craft to such perfection, but this will be his first ever time without a condom. And the neanderthal wants to witness his cum run down my inner thighs.

I spread my legs farther, and he grunts his appreciation as it immediately starts to escape and coat my skin. Catching it with his hand, he thrusts it back inside. Even though I hurt, I groan my approval as he then fucks me slowly with his cum-covered fingers.

In and out. Over and over until I start to soar once more. His breath is hot against my ear as he brings me right to the edge.

“From this moment on, if any man looks at you the wrong way, I will kill him with my bare fucking hands.”

“Possessive much?”

“You’re mine.”

The heel of his hand presses against my clit, and I welcome my release as I groan my new husband’s name.

In response, he growls his approval in my ear.

CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN

EOIN

The Hudson Dusters’ HQ, Manhattan, New York

“Jesus Christ, you actually fucked her.”

We’re in my office. I look up at Dylan, wondering how he could know that as I’ve not said a word.

“Your neck.”

I frown at him as he sits on one of the tan-colored executive chairs that face me, still none the wiser.

“Hickies. And since I’ve never seen you with one before now, I reckon the resident female vampire is none other than Mrs. Jaine O’Connell. Tell me I’m wrong.”

I pause to consider whether responding to such a personal question is in any way inappropriate, but considering the clearly damning evidence left by Jaine herself, there’s no point in trying to deny that our relationship has moved to the next level.

“No. You’re not wrong.”

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