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He’s probably just enjoying my discomfort.
Chapter Four
Murphy
I spend the day in my office with Cillian and a few of my most trusted men – men from the legitimate business and the mob side – making arrangements to protect the city from Juan and his drug-dealing aspirations.
We arrange to increase our presence in the most underfunded parts of the city, direct our journalism branch to focus on rundown neighborhoods so we’ll learn if Juan has started dealing the moment he does, and reinforced our businesses with armed security to make sure Juan doesn’t do anything stupid.
Moran Enterprises is a multi-winged business and it gives me a lot of control over the city, but if the Cartel starts dropping bodies and causing mayhem, I’ll be forced to go the non-legitimate route.
All through the day, I find it difficult to pull my mind away from Molly.
Sitting in the back of the car as she drove was torture, especially with Cillian next to me. I couldn’t do what I wanted, reach out and grab her, direct those big naive eyes to mine, and growl that she’s mine and she always will be.
I couldn’t let her know that the second I get a chance I’m going to fuck her harder and more passionately than she’s ever been touched.
But maybe it was good that Cillian was there, stopping me. I’ve known Henry since I was a kid. Even if he’s had his problems, I can’t betray him by unleashing my carnal need on his daughter…
But can I resist her?
Her scent filled the car, fresh and tempting, and the moment a blush spread across her cheeks and disappeared down her shirt had me gritting my teeth in an effort not to follow the redness. My mind flooded with images of her curvaceous breasts dappled red with her desire, with her shyness, with all the things that make me want to drive into her more and more each moment.
I ride the elevator down to the garage, achingly aware that I’m alone. It’s going to be just the two of us in the car as she takes me back to my penthouse apartment.
I try to think of all the good times I’ve shared with her father, playing cards, smoking cigars, making jokes, and memories. But every time I try to warn myself away from her, my seed surges into my manhood and makes me rock solid.
I think about Molly on her back instead, her luscious breasts naked and begging to be palmed and touched and teased.
I think about the way her nipples will pebble in excitement for me when I suck on them.
The elevator door opens to reveal Molly leaning against the car, her arms crossed over her middle. I swallow as I walk across the parking lot, conscious of my footsteps echoing through its emptiness, as though reminding me that we’re completely alone down here. It’s eight o’clock and most of my employees have gone home.
I laugh gruffly when she spots me and quickly pushes away from the car, as though afraid I’m going to give her a stern boss-like warning.
Come to think of it, the idea of punishing Molly for an infraction doesn’t sound so bad.
I could bend her over the hood of the car and smooth my hands up her full thighs, squeezing onto her voluptuous flesh and tracking the pleasure that shivers across her, listening to the excited noises she makes, all hot breath and needy whining.
I’d push my solid manhood against her juicy round ass cheeks, letting her feel how excited she makes me, letting her feel how hungry I am to push inside of her until I’m buried up to the hilt.
“Tell me how badly you fucking need this,” I’d snarl in her ear, my hand grinding between her legs.
She wouldn’t even be able to answer as I rubbed her harder and fiercer, driving deeper inside of her, my manhood getting somehow more engorged at the feel of her hot needy sex clinging to me.
I swallow down the desire as she opens the back door for me.
“Are we waiting for anyone else or can we get going?” she asks.
I look at her, at her pursed lips and the way her cheeks bloom pink, almost red… fuck, and I bet her pussy is the same shade of pink, a winking hole begging to be played with, to be circled with my tongue until I can scent the need wafting from her creamy slit.
I imagine her womb pulsing and screaming to be flooded with my seed, making her body receptive and buzzing with nerves, making every inch of her hungry to be tamed and claimed.
“Just us,” I growl, my voice husky with the throbbing need.
“Okay.”
She bites her lip and then releases it when she realizes what she’s doing.
Does she have any idea how sexy she is, how perfectly curvy, how bright and naive her eyes are? Does she have any idea what she’s doing to me?
