Free Brawler's Baby: An MMA Mob Romance (Mob City Book 1) by Holly Hart Page A

vain effort – like I could ever hope to hold back his powerful thrusts – but it told him everything he needed to know.
    It was time.
    "Don't stop!" I gasped.
    "Just." A breath .
    "Keep." Another .
    "Doing." One last.
    "That!"
    Conor seemed to take it as encouragement, rather than as a slight on his efforts. He was a bad boy, sure, but that didn't mean he wasn't attuned to his partner's wants and desires – and that meant me.
    I wished I could see him from behind, wished I could see the knotted muscles on his thick back clenching and tensing every time he drove forward, powerfully, into me; I wished I could see the sweat dripping off his shoulder blades. As the pleasure began to build inside my mind, casting me off from all rational thought, my brain began to conjure a fantasy in which, unbelievably, Conor and I owned our own home, living together in some kind of perverted marital bliss with a mirror on the bedroom ceiling.
    That was the thought that did it – the thought that pushed me over the edge into a final, sensual, world-melting climax. I felt my pelvic muscles clenching around his thick cock – doing their best to hang on, to hold his scorching hot prick inside me and never let it go.
    I felt Conor's climax like a wave of heat exploding inside my body, so much heat I wondered if it would ever end, or whether it would just keep building within me, adding to the endless, relentless waves of heat already present inside me. He clutched reflexively at me, his fingers digging into my shoulder blades so powerfully in the delirious state of fugue that it almost brought tears to my eyes.
    I didn't care. I'd dreamed of this moment for so long that a few slight bruises on my peach-like skin was nothing – a small, meaningless price to pay.
    Conor sank back down on his forearms, finally allowing his huge, muscular bulk to rest, and for a few long seconds neither of us said a word – the room's only soundtrack the occasional, ragged punctuation of deep, restorative breaths.
    "Shit," he finally panted. "That was incredible. Shit."
    As I lay with my ear pressed against Conor's chest, half-drugged by the hormonal release of a mind-bendingly powerful climax and in the process of being lulled to sleep by his somnolent, slowing heart beat, my fingers absent-mindedly stroking the soft hair on his thick, scarred chest, my mind felt a peace and solitude I hadn't felt in all these years of loneliness.
    It didn't last. Of course it didn't last.
    BANG!
    A sudden crash disturbed us, startling Conor, who leapt to his feet, stark naked, like a soldier with PTSD. He crouched on the floor, every muscle in his back rippling and bulging and stared at the door, prepared for someone to burst through it at any moment.
    Dad!
    Amongst the condition of sheer panic, that was the only coherent thought in my mind – and the more I considered it, the more I came to the conclusion that there was no other possibility; my father had realized that I'd slipped my minders and escaped from his control, and worse, he'd somehow realized I was here.
    Did he know that Conor was the reason he'd dragged me away from Dublin in tears?
    I stopped dead in my tracks, a far worse thought intruding on my mind. Was Conor's very appearance in Alexandria a simple coincidence, or was something even more nefarious at play?
    Was this all just one of my father's sick games?
    And if so, was Conor in on it?

9
    C onor
    I’d fucked her because I could.
    Because it was easier than actually coming to terms with what she was saying – what it all meant.
    I’d fucked her because I needed to shut her up, because screwing her was easier for me to cope with than talking about what I felt.
    What the hell does that say about me?
    I cocked my ear toward the bathroom, checking that I could no longer hear the tell-tale sounds of old, steam-swollen wood scraping against the window frame, or the harsh clacking of the metal catch unlocking to let a woman’s half-naked body climb out.
    The