“So good, Darragh,” she panted.
“Hmmm, you like that hard dick, don’t you? Yeah, you like it. I can feel your greedy pussy swallowing my cock.” I swiveled my hips just enough to get better traction. I wanted to take my time, fuck her slow and easy. She leaned up as far as she could and pressed her nose against my throat, inhaling my scent.
“I love the way you smell, Darragh. All man with a touch of scared little boy mixed in for good measure. I can’t get enough of it.”
My lips curled into a sinister smile. “I didn’t plan on punishing this pussy so soon, but since you can’t seem to shut the fuck up…” I eased in halfway, a tease.
“Hmmm…then show me something, hot shot.”
The second I slammed into her, she grabbed on to my shoulders and dug her nails into my flesh. Otelia hooked her feet above my ass, opening her pussy as far as it would go. She felt like heaven, but I wasn’t the prince in her storybook romance. She had that once, and look how well that turned out.
“Who’s fucking you, Otelia? Whose cock is filling your tight, wet cunt?”
“Yours, Darragh,” she mewled. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head.
For some reason, it was important to me that she acknowledged it was my dick inside her and not some dead high school football player’s. My name was the only one I wanted on her lips. Hearing her say it wasn’t enough—I wanted to watch her scream it as she came undone. I scooped a hand under her ass while balancing with the other, elbow on the mattress. I flipped us over in one smooth motion without disengaging our connection. Otelia was above me, full of my cock, smiling down. She immediately leaned over and put her nose in the crux of my neck.
“I’m starting to get a complex. Do I need to take a shower?”
Her response was muffled against my throat. “Don’t you dare, Mac. I love the way you smell. It’s kind of an aphrodisiac.”
Love.
There was that word again.
Otelia used it so freely, so effortlessly, and without bitterness. After everything that had happened in her past, not very many people could say the same. I certainly couldn’t.
Love meant weakness, especially when it was lost due to no fault of your own, as with Bella. I shook those thoughts from my head and surged upward, reminding us both what we were doing here. Time to quit fucking around.
I grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her to sit up. “Ride me, woman.”
“You want it slow?” The little minx lifted her hips then slowly pushed back down. Her mop of blond hair cascaded over her perfect tits. “Or… do you want it fast and hard?”
I clutched two hands full of ass cheeks, kneaded the soft flesh through a moan, then smacked my palm down hard on one of the globes. Her teasing had me more than a little fucked up. She assumed a position of power by having me beneath her, flat on my back, helpless. But it was an illusion. I maintained total control in all things, especially fucking.
I straightened from a prone position and pressed my back against her rickety headboard. Otelia’s perky tits were at the ideal height to align with my mouth. I latched on to one of her pebbled nipples and bit down softly, causing her back to arch even further. Her hands found purchase on my knees, and when I looked down, her swollen clit was exposed, begging for attention. I used my thumb to circle her little bundle of nerves, at the same time giving thought to her question.
“What I want…is for you to fuck me like you would your little schoolboy if he were alive.”
She stilled and tried to recoil. “Why would you…”
I applied more pressure to her sweet spot, determined to keep her with me. Bringing up the dead boyfriend was a dick move. Call it morbid curiosity. I needed to know whose name she would call out when she came on my cock.
“Fuck me like you mean it, Otelia. Like you can’t live without it, baby.”
I attacked her mouth with my own. Our tongues, lips, and hands dueled for maximum gratification. Otelia began to move with newfound energy and purpose. She dug in deep, knees spread wide against the mattress, back arched, eyes wide open.
She rode me hard.
Grunting and sweating.
We were ready to explode in mutual release.
“That’s it, baby. You ready to come on my cock?”
“Yes. Yes!”
I rubbed her clit faster, feeling her inner walls as they began to tighten.
“Come for me, Otelia.”
“Darragh…ugh…”
I emptied myself with a prolonged groan, and when the tremors stopped, I smiled.
It was my name she’d screamed.
I really was a bastard sometimes.
CHAPTER 32
Otelia
NIPSY’S WAS CRAZY busy tonight.
The city council had approved a highway expansion designated as an evacuation route in case of emergencies. The crew of construction workers sitting in booths demanding coffee had been at it since before the sun came up that morning and they were beat. They reeked of sweat and dirt, each one filthier than the last. None bothered to wash their hands before attacking their food. The site foremen promised a monetary bonus if they finished below budget and ahead of schedule. Most of them needed that money for one reason or another, so they worked twice as hard, often without eating or taking breaks. One guy fell asleep sitting straight up in his chair before I could bring him his turkey sandwich on wheat he’d ordered. I wished there was more I could do other than serve them lousy food and subpar coffee.
“You guys are pretty worn out.” I greeted each of the men while handing them a menu.
“Fucked around and ran into some trouble today,” one of them said. “Hit a goddamn gas line left over from the sixties. Damn near blew us all to hell.”
“Jesus, guys. I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks, girl. It ain’t over yet. Shit just started. If we didn’t need that bonus cash, we probably all would’ve quit after today. Can’t spent it if you’re dead.”
“No one would fault you for that, certainly not me.” I smiled, offering support.
I put on a fresh pot of coffee, screaming at the kitchen staff to rush our orders, double time. They shouldn’t be made to wait any longer than they had to for some much-needed nourishment in their stomachs.
It didn’t take them long to scarf down their meals and hurry back out to the worksite for another few hours before quitting time. The usual sexual inuendoes and ass grabbing were absent for the most part. I could’ve been butt naked wrapped in a feather boa for all they cared. Pussy was the last thing on their minds. Staying alive long enough to pay their bills was enough to keep anyone’s libido in check.
Then it hit me.
Holy shit
I’m a fucking genius.
My shift was just about over, but I was uncertain about what to do next. Mac and I had shared an amazing night slash morning before he left my bed to attend to business. I felt hopeful for the first time that I hadn’t made a mistake by opening up to him about my past. There was no doubt in my mind that I would see and feel him again. My pussy demanded it now that it’d sampled the best of the best. Nothing less would do from here on out. But that was two days ago, and I hadn’t heard shit from the elusive fight club owner since.
We hadn’t exchanged phone numbers, but he knew where to find me if he wanted to track me down. Still, I had an idea that could help the guys in the construction crew that required special handling. Mac was the only man I knew capable of performing the task, but he had his hands full dealing with O’Brien.