Page 86 of Dirty Padraig: Dirty Dusters

His gaze instantly drops to my mouth. We both hear my breath hitch as he grabs me and spins me around. Pulling my back against his hard body his hand circles my throat. A groan escapes me as the possessive human collar slowly tightens.

“Or is your greedy little pussy just hungry for my cock, Miss Jones?”

His other hand drops to the bottom of my skirt, which he then yanks up to my waist. I instinctively grind my ass against his groin.

He’s hard.

He pushes me against the container wall, and my hands collide with the cold metal surface. His breath is hot against my neck, but he makes no attempt to kiss me.

I want him to kiss me. I need to taste his fucking arrogance.

Pushing my panties aside, he thrusts two fingers inside. Even though it hurts, I grind against them. I want more of this addictive, punishing pain only he can deliver.

He finger fucks me hard and fast as he scissors his fingers. I know what’s coming next. I hear the sound of a zipper, then I feel the head of his cock against my slickness, and with one push, he’s seated deep inside me.

My walls clench around him, welcoming him back.

Miss. Need. Love.

His thrusts are brutal and selfish, taking me back to our first time. When it wasn’t about me, it was about him.

Right here is all about him. Right now, I don’t care.

I push back against him, needing more. Demanding more. His fingers bruise my hips as he gives me exactly what I’m asking for.

The sound of my wetness echoes in the confined space, joined only by my groans and whines of appreciation as he fucks me hard against the wall.

There are no words spoken. This isn’t intimacy. This is animalistic fucking. Provided it’s a means to a mutually satisfying end, right now I don’t fucking care.

I arch my back and spread my legs further, crying out in pain when he bottoms out. He curses me as his movements become jerky. With a low growl, he releases deep inside before pulling out. He knows I’m not finished.

“Beg to come.” His hot breath is in my ear once more.

“Fuck you, asshole.”

“That fucking mouth will beg.” He presses his finger to my clit before circling it. I part my legs, but he just laughs darkly then moves his finger away. Asshole.

“Please.”

“Good girl.”

He slowly pushes his dick back inside my cum-filled pussy, causing his release to spill down my legs. I groan at the sensation as he tilts my hips and thrusts once, twice. I cry out on the third as I finally find my own release.

He pulls out once more and steps back, his fingers collecting his cum from my inner thighs before thrusting it back inside me.

I stand there with my skirt around my waist and his release oozing out of me. I don’t turn around when I hear the sound of a zipper or when I hear footsteps.

He passes me a cloth to clean myself up. I stare at the wall as I do so, knowing now exactly what this is.

Payback. A pause, then he repeats the same two words.

“It’s over.”

CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN

PADRAIG

The Hudson Dusters’ HQ, Manhattan, New York

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