Page 137 of Three Irish Kings

My heart drops, but he doesn’t pull away, so I get even closer, slowly taking his fingers in my hand, being careful of his knuckles. “Let me bandage these.”

He looks up at me, and his eyes are unreadable. “Fine.”

I tug him to the bathroom.

He takes his hoodie off, and he’s wearing a rumpled white t-shirt that shouldn’t be baggy on him, but it is.

He’s still muscular, but he’s lost a little weight since I last saw him; his stomach is a bit softer, probably from drinking.

I sigh and pull out some gauze and disinfectant from my medicine cabinet, wincing as I pull a fragment of tooth out of his right knuckle with a pair of tweezers.

Dare doesn’t even flinch when I pour the disinfectant on his knuckles, even though I bet it stings like a bitch.

I wrap his knuckles quickly, and when I go to pull away, Dare stops me, pulling my hands so that I bump against his chest.

As soon as he touches me, all my blood burns for him.

“You were supposed to be mine.”

There’s something angry but mournful in his tone, and I try to look into his eyes, but he’s looking down at my breasts, pulling my dress over my head, leaving me in just my panties.

None of my bras fit because my breasts have swollen with the pregnancy, and the drugstore doesn’t sell underwear, so I’m not wearing any.

“Youaremine, whether you like it or not.” He pushes me against the wall.

I grunt as my back hits the doorknob, but it doesn’t hurt, not much.

“Dare,” I start, but I don’t know how to finish.

It doesn’t matter, anyway, because he leans down to kiss me roughly, shoving his tongue into my mouth and lifting me up against the closed bathroom door with his hands on my ass and thighs.

We’ve never had sex like this, up against the wall or on the countertop like I have with Cillian and Liam, because Dare’s so big.

I gasp against his mouth, and my legs instinctively go around his waist.

He reaches between us to slide his fingers through my lower lips, and when he finds me slick, he grunts against my neck,biting down in a way that stings and aches so good, likely leaving a mark.

I don’t care. In fact, I like the pain; it makes me feel alive again when I’ve felt dead since the moment I walked out of that bedroom and left him there. Left them behind.

He shoves down his sweats with one hand, freeing his impressive erection, and pushes inside of me with no prep.

I’m already wet, though. Always wet when he touches me.

I cry out as his cock pierces into me.

The glide gets easier as I get slicker and he thrusts up into me, pushing me up against the door.

This bathroom isn’t nearly as big as the one in the cottage, but we manage, and Dare doesn’t say a word to me, just claiming me with his mouth and his cock, marking my neck up with bites and hickeys.

He’s so big it takes a few thrusts to get completely inside of me, and I feel so full I can barely stand it, already pulsing around him.

He groans against my neck and fucks me savagely, hard.

I’ll be sore after, but I don’t care. I want it just like this, want him to take out all his anger and hurt on me because I deserve it.

The more I’ve been alone at this stupid bed and breakfast, the more I’ve realized I was wrong.

I should have told them. I should have let us all figure it out together, but I thought it was too late. I thought they’d hate me now, assume the worst, and maybe they do.