Page 57 of Dirty Padraig: Dirty Dusters

“I asked you a question, Jaine.” His mouth moves to my neck, and he nips on the delicate skin with his teeth.

“Because you’re an asshole.”

“That cussing little mouth of yours just can’t help itself, can it? No, Jaine. You don’t hate me. You love me.”

I hear the sound of a zipper moments before he lifts me off the floor so I can anchor my legs around his slim hips, then, with one brutal push, he’s inside me.

I link my hands behind his neck so we can both watch his dick deliver each punishing thrust.

“Look at your pussy soaking my cock, Jaine. My, my, aren’t you such an insatiable little thing?”

“Shut up and fuck me, asshole.” I dig my nails into his neck until I can feel blood and watch his nostrils flare. He’s still fully dressed, and the marks I’m inflicting above his collar line will be visible for the world to see, which is just how he likes it. Eoin O’Connell wants me to own him as much as he wants to own me, and he wants the world to witness my claiming.

Positioning my legs so I’m jack-knifed against him, he grips my ass and fucks me hard and fast. This is his equivalent of a quickie. A twenty-minute fuck that will leave me raw and bruised.

My back hurts, but nothing matters apart from the feel of his cock inside me and the painful grip of his fingers as he holds me in place.

Harder. Faster. Deeper. He pistons into me like a machine.

“More.” It’s barely audible.

“Such a greedy, evil woman.”

He curses when I clench around him, his breath hot against my neck as his movements become erratic. He raises his head, green eyes blazing into mine as his impressive length swells inside me.

With a growl, he embraces the first licks of his pleasure, the feral sounds he makes pushing me over the edge. With one punishing thrust, I shatter around him, my clenching walls taking him for everything he’s got. I rest my forehead against his as he empties deep inside me, his eyes never leaving mine.

We stay there. Hot. Sweaty. Sated. I breathe him in. He breathes me in.

He’s right. I do love him.

His lips find mine, his tongue sweeping deep. I can taste his love for me from his mouth, but it’s not enough.

I feel caged. Suffocated. Drowned.

He lowers me to my feet, tucks in his dick, then zips up his pants. Aside from the bleeding scratches on his neck, he looks immaculate once more and not like he’s just ruthlessly fucked me up against the wall.

I go to the restroom, clean myself up, straighten my skirt, then stare at my reflection in the mirror. I know if I don’t make a stance, I’ll lose my identity and become Eoin O’Connell’s possession. I’m worth more than that.

Way more.

Love is no longer enough. Not after everything I’ve been through. I refuse to be compromised any longer.

I leave the restroom and take him in. Mr. Dominating. Dangerous. Deadly.

Mine.

I don’t have to give any explanation. He knows why I’m saying what I’m about to. I’ve warned him enough times.

I love him. I will always love him, but we'll only be compatible if we can find a balance. I’m not cut out to be a mobster’s trophy wife. Not even his.

Yes, I could tell him about my alter-ego, but the way I see it, that reveal shouldn’t make any difference. If I don’t want to be protected, and if I don’t want to be possessed, then he should respect my decision rather than try to stifle me with his own.

He’s left me with no choice but to utter the two words I didn’t ever want to have to speak. I stare at him, and he stares back. He knows exactly what I’m going to say.

“It’s over.”

CHAPTERNINETEEN

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