How many times had I caused those tears?
I pulled off my cut and my shirt, followed by my jeans and boots. Orla stirred and looked over at me. Her face shone with wet tears from the lamp on the side table.
“You came back.”
“Always,” I said, moving over to the side of the bed, taking her face in my hands. I dried the tears from her cheeks with my thumbs. “Don’t you ever allow me to make you cry again. If I say something stupid that does this, fucking hit me over the head or something.”
“You don’t hate me?” she asked, her voice full of fear and worry. It killed me that she didn’t know how much I would fucking dominate this world for her.
“Orla, you could fucking shoot me in the chest, flay me alive, walk over me with spikes and I would only love you more,” I admitted to her. “I’m not a big emotions guy, nor do I say I love you to many, but I fucking love you, and I always have.”
Orla’s mouth found mine first, and I felt every wave of emotion she’d been feeling in that kiss. I pulled her body to mine and deepened the kiss, laying her back on the bed. I moved down, leaving a trail of kisses on her skin before I yanked at her panties. Sliding them down her legs, I widened her legs as I gazed down at her pink pussy. The one I craved more than anything else in the world.
I slid down, pulling her thighs over my shoulders as I licked a trail up her slit. She instantly arched her back. Pressing the tip of my tongue to her clit, I moved my fingers underneath her thigh and skirted around her core with my fingertips. Orla’s hips thrust against my mouth, my tongue circled her clit, sucking on it. Her heavenly moans filled the air as I sunk a finger into her.
“Oh fuck,” she grunted, her thighs trying to squeeze my head. I slid another finger into her with ease as her hips bucked wildly. The second I sucked on her clit again, increasing the rhythm, I built her to a crescendo. Unable to control myself anymore, I knelt between her thighs and slid my hard cock into her to the hilt.
Orla tensed around me, her mouth open in a perfect O as her eyes widened at the delicious stretch. Her nails dug into my arms as I pounded into her, needing her to be mine. Needing to feel every bit of her, and for her to be ruined for all other men.
Her pussy clenched around me hard as I pounded into her with everything I had. She screamed out as her orgasm ripped through her violently fast, my cock being squeezed to within an inch of its life. Once I felt her pussy walls’ vice like grip release me, I thrust into her until I hit the same crescendo, pouring everything into her, riding out the orgasm that rocked me to the core.
Falling down beside her, I tried to get my breath back. She drew lazy circles over my tattoos on my hand, and the sensation was the most erotic thing I’d felt.
“I’ve never really been a missionary girl, but damn.”
I chuckled into her shoulder, pulling her into me, little spoon to my big spoon. “Get used to it, Or, because I want you on your back as much as humanly possible.”
Her chuckle warmed me from the outside in.
She wasmine.
SEVEN
Bear
The familiar cockiness was unmistakable as I watched the fuckhead that had torn Orla from me the first time pay for his groceries and head to his car. A mini-fucking-van.
I saw the baby seat in the back, and it just brought even more anger forth. He was the reason Orla almost died from him telling her how to get a quick abortion, and here he was with a fucking family.
The sole reason I left was because of this guy.
He was a fucking stain on society, and he was most definitely a thorn in my side.
I knew seeking him out was a stupid idea, and one Orla would fucking lose her shit at me for, but I’d come here anyway. Somehow, my body was moving before I could think about it because I was now crossing the car park, straight for him.
When I got to his car, I stood there, waiting for him to notice me. Slowly, his eyes moved to my boots and slowly up at me, his smile fading quickly as he took me in.
“O’Leary,” he gasped. “I heard you were back.”
I didn’t speak, I just looked at the man who had hurt Orla.
“Ho-how you been, man? You got fucking big…like your old man.”
It was hard to dispute my parentage, especially when I looked more like my dad than my brother who happened to be his legitimate child, but that wasn’t the point here.
“You seen Orla?” he continued to ramble, hoping this would put me off wanting to hit him. It wouldn’t, but I could watch him dig his grave.
“I have, we’d spoken about a lot of things,” I finally said. The colour from his face drained when he realised what I’d meant.
