Page 6 of Seven Sons (Gypsy Brothers)

He can see my hesitation and steps back.

“You sure you can handle this kind of work?” he asks me, obviously unimpressed.

I smile tightly. “Of course. I just wasn’t expecting it to be today.”

“You gonna fuck better next week?” he asks impatiently.

“No,” I say quickly. I turn around, shimmy out of my shorts and panties so that I am completely naked, and place my palms flat against the desk. I turn my head to see Dornan watching me with what appears to be a mixture of lust and intrigue.

“I was just thinking,” I shrug, flashing him a wicked grin, “I should show you my best stuff straight off the bat.”

He laughs and slaps my bare ass with his open hand, squeezing a handful of flesh.

He leans close to my ear, tugging a handful of my long brown hair, forcing my head back.

“What do you want from me?” he asks quietly.

I think of how he ruined my life, how he ripped my father from me, how he took my virginity and shared it with his equally sick bastard offspring. I think of the past six years, of staying hidden, of fearing for my life, and I set my jaw squarely.

I want to make you suffer.

“I want you to make me a star,” I say sweetly. I want to bury you alive, you murdering fucking asshole.

He grins. “Now that I can do.”

I turn back to the desk and take a deep breath.

“Well, come on, then,” I say, grinding myself against his hardness. “Before I change my mind.”

I hear a zipper, and feel his fingers as they explore my pussy. “You don’t get to change your mind with me.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and bite down on my lip, tasting blood as he spits on his hand, using it to lube his cock. I tense as I feel the tip of his shaft press against my opening.

I moan in pain as he shoves his cock deep inside my ass and groans loudly.

“Thought you liked it this way, sweetheart,” he says, his balls slapping against skin as he gains speed with his strokes. Each time he pulls out, he thrusts back in with such force, I want to cry.

“I love it,” I whisper, hating every second of it.

I force myself to keep up the act, thankful that he won’t see my tell-tale branding, and vow to get a tattoo to cover my stupid fucking scars first thing tomorrow morning.

I gasp as I feel a finger press against my clit, and despite my hatred, my traitorous body responds, melting like butter in the midday sun. I suck in a breath as he continues to pleasure me, and I feel my inner resistance fraying and weakening with every swirl of his fingertip. My ass is a cataclysm of pleasure and pain, and the way he is thrumming his fingers against my clit is making me dangerously close to coming.

I am defenceless against his skilled hands as he brings me to the crest of climax, a bitter war waging within me.

Because it shouldn’t feel this good.

I moan, bucking my hips against his as my body betrays me completely, greedy for that climax, eager for release.

“Baby girl,” Dornan moans, as I explode into a million pieces underneath his deft fingers. That must turn him on, because just as my core clenches and I come, Dornan pulls out of me, stays completely still for a moment, and then groans that groan, pushing my face against the desk and spilling hot cum all over my lower back.

I force myself to stay perfectly still, my legs shaking slightly because I’ve been on my tiptoes, my cheek pressed against the cool desk, because if I don’t, I’ll scream. I’ll scream and claw at his eyes and try to rip them out.

And I can’t. I can’t just end it all, especially now that I’ve let him inside me again.

He puffs, catching his breath, his hands still loose around my hips. I lean awkwardly over the desk, mindful that if I stand up straight I’ll make a mess on the floor. Dornan reaches for a box of tissues on the desk and wipes his sticky fluid from my skin.

“Thanks,” I murmur, turning around to face him, my arm precariously covering my hip. He definitely looks more relaxed than when I first arrived, though he looks tired, too. Too many late nights. Too much blood on his hands. Too many innocent lives, ended at his will.

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