“You’re mine, Aisling. I want your body to remember what it feels like to have my cock in you. I want you to remember me when my hot come leaks from your pussy and your core aches with the memory of being fucked.” I reach my hand to her arse and pinch it. “I want you to feel my palm, to ache for my cock.”
“Oh my God,” she whimpers.
“I own your hot, tight cunt. I own your pretty, wicked mouth. I own your arse. You.”
Thrust.
“Are.”
Thrust.
“Mine.”
Thrust.
She screams on a climax, her wrists caught in my hands again. She’s rising in bliss, but I push her onto the bed and give into my own release, roaring through the pleasure that ravages me, pounding into her until I’m spent and we’re both panting.
“Fucking. Mine.” The rhythm slows, and she shudders through the aftershocks of climax. I blink, surprised to see her cheeks tear-stained, bright red fingerprints along her wrists, her shoulders, and her breasts.
She grins at me and sighs. “That was fucking epic,” she says, with a shrug and a giggle.
“Bloody hell,” I mutter. “Thought I damn near broke you, and you’re fucking giddy?”
“Oh, aye,” she says, giggling. I kiss her cheek, then playfully slap her arse before I draw out of her.
“Atta girl,” I say when she mewls with the loss of me, reaching to pull me back. “You don’t want to be apart?”
She shakes her head and closes her eyes. “No,” she says, her voice catching. “Hold me a little while longer, will you?”
I wrap my arms around her, roll over on the bed, and hold her to my chest. “Babe, I’ll hold you as long as you need me to.” She shudders a little, and for a moment I think she’s crying again.
“You okay?”
She nods, then she shakes her head, then she laughs.
“Shh. Please.”
I hold her in silence, gently rocking her, smoothing my hand through her short black hair.
“Didn’t know what it was like fucking a little black-haired pixie.”
She giggles and whispers, “Well, now you know.”
I kiss her fingertips, one by one. “Aye.”
She tucks her head on my chest, resting her fingers there. “I didn’t know what it was like fucking a man possessed.”
Mmm. Possessed. I like that.
Accurate.
“Well, now you know.”
She shivers. “What will we do here, Tiernan?”
Besides fucking hide?
“I can think of ways to occupy you.”
She grins. “I bet you can.”
I grin back. “Not sure. Maybe Malachy will have me teach some martial arts while I’m here.” I’d like that.
“Oh, hell yes. I’d love to see that.”
“Would you?”
She nods. “Of course I would. Except you’d better clear your schedule, because you know that gets me hot as hell.”
I lift her chin. “Does it?”
She looks at me in surprise, her eyes wide while her jaw slackens.
“You didn’t know?”
I shake my head. “Well, no.”
Her brow furrows. “I thought all you men fought just to get laid.”
I laugh out loud. “Jesus, all these years I’ve been missing out…”
She rolls her eyes. “I think we can make up for that.”
I grin at her. “I bet we can.”
She frowns and looks around the small, rather spartan room. “And what will I do here?”
I think on it for a bit. “You need to hide, babe.”
She sighs. “You get to teach classes and I get to sit in a room by myself. Sounds lovely.”
I tug a lock of her hair and kiss her cheek. “You know I won’t leave you alone.”
She worries her lip, and her cheeks flush a bit. “You know, I was very good at art at one time.”
“Art? Like drawing?”
She nods. “Oh, aye. Used to be a fair hand at it, actually. But not these days. I mean, I haven’t picked up a pencil in ages.”
I need to ask her questions. “Aisling, how many years were you… working with Vivian?”
She looks pained, but to her credit, she only nods. “Aye, nothing to hide there. Not years. I was only with her a few months. I don’t know her or the other girls that well. One could say I was… freelancing before that?”
She looks away. I grasp her chin and draw her eyes back to me. “Did you know when I lived in Stone City I was a runner for rivals to the McCarthys?”
She frowns and shakes her head. “Well, no.”
Of course she doesn’t. Hardly anyone knows.
I nod. “Keenan took me in. Knew who I was and how I’d worked for his rivals, but still took me on as one of his own. And I don’t regret it, lass.”
Her brows furrow. “You don’t?”
I shake my head. “I won’t judge you for what you did. People get desperate sometimes. And I suspect that was what happened with you.”
She’s still frowning. “I don’t understand how you can be so… how you don’t judge me.”
I kiss the top of her head. She was a different woman then, slave to the drugs and using desperate means to fill her belly and pay her bills.