Page 65 of His Forced Irish Mafia Bride

I shouldn’t have asked. The corridor felt too narrow, the air too thick. My own words were still burning between us, the anger and confusion I’d let spill out like blood.

Sean caught my wrist and pulled me back through the office door.

I didn’t know why I followed him like a sheep. He locked the door behind us with a click that sounded irreversible.

I spun on him. “Don’t you dare—”

He didn’t let me finish before the space between us disappeared.

Our mouths crashed together in a storm of teeth and fury and all the things we’d refused to say. I shoved hard at his chest even as I kissed him back harder, punishing him with the same hunger he gave me.

I tasted anger on his tongue. I tasted my own desperate want. Both of them tore through me, wild and unstoppable.

We stumbled sideways. My hip slammed into the desk and papers exploded across the floor like startled birds. A broken sound tore from my throat. I didn’t know if it was a curse or a surrender, but it seemed to rip away the last of his restraint.

He lifted me onto the desk’s edge, stepping between my thighs, his hands gripping my waist so tightly I knew I’d bruise. I yanked at his shirt. Buttons snapped and scattered across the hardwood. My nails scraped down his arms, not gently. I wanted to mark him the way he was marking me. This wasn’t careful. This wasn’t tender or planned or anything I could control. It wasthe opposite of every guarded moment I’d spent trying to protect myself from him. We slid off the desk in a frantic tangle. My back hit the leather chair and suddenly I was straddling him, hair wild around my face, breathing like I’d been running for miles.

He grabbed my tits and caressed them, and I think I went to heaven and back when his tongue touched my nipples. My body was betraying me with waves of pleasure.

When he was done with my tits, he moved to my pussy. It had been waiting for his touch like he owned it. He got rid of my panties like a professional and went for it.

My eyes closed as a dense mist of pleasure shot into my head. My pussy was dripping like a spring as his tongue worked my clit.

“I hate you,” I gasped. Or I wanted to gasp. No words came out of my mouth no matter how hard I tried.

My hands fisted in his hair and pulled hard enough to make him groan. He stood, lifting me with him as if I weighed nothing, and we didn’t make it far.

We crashed down onto the floor together. Papers crumpled beneath us. The rug burned against my back as we rolled, a mess of limbs and heavy breathing.

There was no rhythm, no grace—just raw, angry need pouring out in every frantic movement. I arched under him, still fighting even as I pulled him closer. Every touch felt like both a question and a punishment. His cock found me and surged inside.

I lost track of everything except the heat between us and the terrifying relief of letting go. We kept moving across the floor, desperate and unraveling, until we staggered upright again, half-clinging, half-pushing each other toward the low sofa on the far side of the room.

My legs were shaking. My heart felt like it might shatter through my ribs. We fell onto the sofa in a breathless heap, andit creaked sharply under the impact. He fucked me harder than I could’ve imagined was possible. I could hear the slapping sound as he pounded me with no mercy.

I locked my legs around his back to give me more room to maneuver. He got the memo and went even deeper. The room spun as he hit the depths of my pussy. I’d never felt such intense pleasure.

For one suspended second our eyes met and we stared at each other—chests heaving, my hair spread across the cushions, his weight braced above me. My eyes were wet, furious, and far too exposed.

The silence didn’t last long. Then we started moving again, and this time it was more intense, like what happened before was just a warm-up for this moment. I pulled Sean down toward my burning tits and he understood. He came willingly, his weight pressing me into the cushions. My hands moved over his back, my nails digging in with every sharp breath I took.

I didn’t like how my body was responding to Sean’s, how every point where our bodies were touching felt electric. My anger had changed into something more intense. It was like I needed him, but I wanted to punish him at the same time. I couldn’tresist his cock destroying my pussy.

We were moving together, whispering curses at each other. I was pushing against Sean, chasing the feeling that was building even though a part of me wanted to push him away and run.

“I hate you.” I said it properly now, and I know he heard it. But he took that as a cue to punish me even further. More soul-snatching thrusts came my way, pushing me closer to the edge.

My words were broken when my fingers tightened in his hair. Sean responded with a sound that vibrated through my entire body, and for a while there was nothing else. Everythingfelt like it was all happening too fast and too raw. The sofa was creaking beneath us as we moved, urgent and relentless.

Wetness spilled out of me as I came, shaking like I had a fever.

He groaned as he came, and I could feel him shaking as he spilled his cum inside me. We were two souls shaking in a pleasure that was pure but stolen.

I was left gasping, clinging to Sean like he was the only thing that was real.

For a moment we stayed together, our hearts pounding and the sweat cooling on our skin. The room was slowly coming back into focus. I saw the papers on the floor, the overturned chair, and our sweaty bodies.

Then reality hit me like a slap in the face. The good feeling was gone. I pushed at Sean’s chest, harder this time. He moved and I scrambled off the sofa. I grabbed a shirt and pulled it over my head.