Chapter Twenty #2
Blood boils in my veins. “Did he ever hurt you?”
She shakes her head. “Not physically, no. He mostly ignored me. And I learned soon enough to hide anytime he came over.”
My fists clench, though relief floods me that he never laid a finger on her. Still, violence isn’t always about the fists. “I've never wanted to kill anyone. Except for maybe your Da.”
She barks out a laugh. “But... Isn't that what you do? Kill?”
“Sometimes."
Most of the time.
“That doesn’t mean I want to do it. Doesn’t mean I enjoy it. It’s what I do, not who I am.”
Isla’s eyes shoot to mine. “What would you like to be if you could be anything else?”
“Just a man.” I draw in another breath, and my chest feels tight. “Liam and his father took me in when I had no one. I owe them everything, and this is my way of paying back all they did for me. So, if they want me to be a weapon, I make sure I strike and hit my mark every single time.”
“Your family—”
“Liam is my family. I grew up here, with him. He’s my brother.”
“The way you two fight—”
“Brothers fight.” There’s an edge in my voice, but I can’t seem to help it. “And things have been... complicated.”
“Because of me?"
“Aye.”
“Would you let me go? If you could?”
I make a noise in the back of my throat. “That's a loaded question, mo chuisle.”
She frowns. “What’s so loaded about it?”
“I work for the Hayes clan. They tell me what to do; I obey, no questions asked. But this? You? I never wanted this in the first place.”
“Then why did you do it?”
“I’m loyal to the Hayes clan; I owe them my life. So, what Liam says goes. And he wants you here.”
“For how long?” She wraps her arms around my neck, pressing her forehead to mine. “It’s not that I’m not enjoying all the attention, but will you really keep me a prisoner here forever?”
Her closeness, along with the wine, is pulling all my defenses down.
My hands sweep up her back, under the t-shirt she’s wearing. One of mine. And that simple fact does something to me that I can’t even begin to explain.
I breathe her in, and her scent mixed with mine on the shirt makes my head spin more than the wine.
“I don’t have an answer for that.”
“You’re smart, you know? You don’t have to do everything Liam says.”
“Liam’s my brother. And whatever happens, I’m loyal to him. I have his back.” My tone is tense, and I want to throw her off my lap, lash out at her, put her in her place, remind her who she is and that she is stuck here with us for as long as we want her here.
But the feel of her bare skin beneath my palms is intoxicating, so I just stay put and skim my hands over her skin, hoping this conversation is now over.
She wiggles on my lap, grinding down against my half-hard erection.
I groan. “Isla.”
“Cillian.” Her tone is breathless and teasing.
“Are you trying to seduce me?”
“Is it working?”
Fuck.
“Aye.”
She kisses me, hard and hungry, and I explore her warm mouth with my tongue, thrusting lazily up beneath her, the heat of her sex seeping through my sweats.
Isla pulls away only long enough to pull her shirt off, and mine too, her hands spreading across my bare chest.
“All these scars,” she murmurs, and traces her fingernail over a bullet hole in my right shoulder.
“I told you what kind of man I am.”
“Yeah,” she says, still breathless, her hazel eyes locked on mine. “And I’m not complaining.”
I should be thinking about Liam, about Dare, how much they would hate this, but right now, my best friend and my brother are way too far from my thoughts.
I reach forward, cupping her breasts in my hands, rolling my thumbs across her peaked nipples, squeezing them enough to hurt just enough that it will enhance her pleasure.
She moans, grinding her hips like a dancer.
I let a low groan out of my chest.
Her fingers are nimble at my waistband, reaching inside to free me, pumping my length as she licks her lips, watching my face.
She doesn’t bother to stand up and take off her shorts, just shoving the crotch to the side, guiding me inside her with one hand.
She’s warm and so slick my breath catches in my throat. So wet, and all from a little heavy petting?
God, she’s sensitive.
Wantonly, she rolls her hips to meet mine. “Fuck me.”
My body responds in kind, my cock aching as I thrust up into her, moving my hands from her breasts to her hips, holding her, fucking into her, claiming her as mine.
Her breasts bounce in my face, and I nip at one of her nipples hard enough that she’ll still feel it in a few hours, eliciting a cry followed by a moan from Isla.
She likes it rough, likes it to hurt a little, and I’m more than willing to give her what she needs.
“Oh, Cillian. Cillian, I’m going to come, don’t stop.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, mo chuisle.” I pant as my balls draw up.
I spank her, once on each ass cheek.
The only downside of her riding me like this is that I can’t enjoy the pink I’m sure is decorating her ass right now.
She clenches around me, and thank God, she’s coming, because I’m about to blow, too.
I grunt as I spill inside her, bouncing her on my cock as I squeeze her bubble ass, and a moan, followed by a breathless giggle escapes her lips.
I readjust myself back into my sweats, breathless and sweating, and Isla stretches on the couch, her back arching.
“You’re drunk.” My tongue feels thick in my mouth.
She giggles again. “So are you.”
I frown. “No, I’m not.”
I realize we’ve killed almost the whole second bottle when I look down at it, my vision slightly blurring.
“Well, bollocks,” I mutter, and Isla giggles again, lying down with her head in my lap and turning her focus to the forgotten television.
She’s dozing off in moments, tired from the wine and the lovemaking, and I watch her for far too long before disentangling myself and putting a blanket over her.
I watch her longer still before making my way to the kitchen, albeit unsteadily.
I let my guard down. I’ve never let my guard down.
Isla Quinn may end up being the end of all of us.