Page 77 of Ruthless Dream

“This is a good thing,” Cormac says.

“Yeah.” But even to my ears, I hear the lack of excitement that normally courses through me when something as big as this happens.

The whole reason we came to America was to make moves like this. Solidifying our position with Walsh and ensuring our business in Dublin is bolstered is our priority. This will go a long way toward doing so.

A contract with Wallen means money. More liquid cash to fund our own entrepreneurial skills. It means no more paycheck to paycheck while other men, who have never struggled, look down at us.

“Is Adeline there?” Cormac asks.

“Yeah.” The walls are so thin, I hear her humming. She knows better than to put on any clothes. They’ll come straight off when I get ahold of her.

“That going well?”

“Yeah.”

We’ve got a routine now. She spends most nights here, my cock filling her cunt, the heat of her enough to drive a man mad.

At least a couple of days a week we go to lunch. They’re normally quick affairs since we’ve both got work, but now when we go out, other people notice. Friends of Adeline’s parents greet her and then shake my hand. Henson sent over a bottle of wine, a sign of friendship I didn’t turn down.

The men in New York City are starting to realize who I am. They recognize me as Adeline’s boyfriend, a man with goals and ambitions. They respect that. Respect me.

It’s helped me get several more meetings, Cormac slapping me on the back each time.

“You’re really sweet on her, aren’t you?” Cormac asks.

I turn off the kitchen light. She’s left a fantasy book on the coffee table. “I’ve got no complaints.”

“The holidays are coming up. Let’s see how you feel when the princess wants a designer bag.”

It’s not right when he calls her that, but the bedroom door opens, so I only say, “Good things are coming this way, aren’t they?”

Uncle snorts. “Yes, they fucking are.”

We say goodbye, and after brushing my teeth, I slide into bed.

“You okay?” I ask, curling up against Adeline’s back, kissing the top of her head. She’s been quieter today, not even sending as many texts.

“I’m tired,” she mumbles.

My hand finds her nipple, teasing. “I’ll let you sleep.”

She tries to hide her smile by smushing her face into a pillow. But her hips rock back into mine, pressing her ass into my groin.

“Unless you’re ready for my cock in your arse.”

Her cheeks flame, and she tries to hide her face in the pillows again. I don’t let her. I flip her on her back, climbing on top of her.

“Ciaran.” Worry shines in her eyes, but she bites her lip.

I drag my hand down the seam of her pussy, rubbing her arousal over her arsehole.

“You’ll like it,” I promise, but it’s only because I like her reaction. How her body tenses and fear sweeps over her. The idea of forcing my cock into her tight arse keeps me up at night, but she’s tired.

I spread her thighs, hooking one hand under her knee to create more room. It’s easy to slide into her pussy, she’s so wet.

I shove all the way forward, our hips slamming together. Pinning her down, I suck her tongue into my mouth, needing her everywhere. She’s the one who starts to rock, desperate for friction.

“Just like that,” I goad her, always so amused to watch her glaze over as she sinks into the sensation of satisfying her primal urges.