Page 20 of Butcher of Belfast

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He drills his hips into me.

“My pussy is all yours,” I whisper through the haze of pleasure coating my mind. “Yours and yours alone. Do whatever you want to it. To me.”

“Ah, fuck,” Mickey roars. “I’m going to fill your virgin womb with my seed. Put a bun in your fresh fucking oven.”

Mickey moans. His hips move harder and faster. The crazed look in his eye deepens. Then an explosion happens deep inside my belly. My legs tense around his waist while every drop of cum releases. My body rocks and spasms, but Mickey’s raid of my pussy hasn’t stopped yet. He continues slamming himself into me until every drop of cum is inside me.

Chapter 9

Mickey

We lay a sprawled mess in one another’s arms, doing our best to recover from the intensity of our lovemaking. Brianna’s head rests on my chest, an ear above my heart, and she’s drawing circles across my skin with her fingers. Her messy red hair frames her face like a massive lion’s mane, and I’ve seen nothing more beautiful.

“God damn, woman, you’ve got a direct line to the pleasure receptors in my brain,” I say.

It’s been a good ten minutes, but my pulse hasn’t settled. Every time I think about her, I’m sent straight back into the sheer ecstasy of it all.

“That was amazing,” Brianna says.

I lean forward, brushing a few loose strands of hair hanging over her face, and give her a kiss.

“You’re amazing.”

Brianna adjusts herself until her eyes are up at the ceiling. The blanket covering her body sinks until her breasts are on full display. Her perfect mounds make my dick twitch against the blanket. A constant reminder that it’s ready to go straight back inside Brianna’s tight cunt and make sure we’ve left a baby in her belly.

“Everything alright?”

She hesitates to answer.

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s on your mind, Brianna.”

“I’m okay.” It sounds like she’s on the verge of crying.

It sets my blood ablaze. Someone upset my woman and they’re going to pay for what they’ve done. I lift myself onto my elbows, met by Brianna’s shaky lower lip. She curls herself into a little ball, hiding her face against my midsection.

“Who did this, Brianna? Let me help you.”

“No one did anything,” she says in a hushed whisper.

“Then why are you upset?” I stroke the top of her head with the palm of my hand.

I’m not good at these emotional talks. Until Brianna walked into my life, I didn’t think my bitter heart could feel much anymore. I’m a battle-hardened veteran with years of bashing in heads, not helping with a broken heart. But I want her to know that I’m here for her. That she can come to me in these times of need and I’ll make her problems go away. It’s what I’ve been doing my whole life, and the want has only amplified for her.

“I’m just overwhelmed,” she says. “For a little while tonight, I forgot about my problems. You made them go away and made me feel whole. But I have to go back home later. I have to walk inside that house and live in a constant reminder of how my life is falling apart.”

“Then don’t go back there. We can stay in this bed forever.”

She smiles, but her eyes betray her. Sadness lingers in those deep pools, and they’re threatening to leak.

“I’d love to, but I can’t.”

“Where would you need to go instead?” I ask.

“Work,” she groans.

Of course, the labor of human life and the bane of existence.

“I have plenty enough money for the both of us.” If she accepts my offer to stay in this bed, she wouldn’t have to lift another finger again. I’d treat her like the princess that she is, have butlers tend to her every need, and watch the fears of this life melt away. She deserves nothing but happiness.


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