Filthy Rich (The Five Points' Mob Collection, #2)

by Serena Akeroyd

It was going to be fun to bend her over my desk and fuck that bubble butt.

No other fucker had touched her, tasted her, kissed her, screwed her. Every inch of her belonged to me. I never had to share her, hadn’t shared her with anyone. Every inch of her was innocent, mine to corrupt. Mine to teach. If brains could orgasm, then I’d just come.

I was looking forward to replacing the things I didn’t like, hopefully making it more comfortable and slut-germ-free in the process.

God, I was so glad Eoghan was a serial killer. Okay, sniper. Same difference. I mean, I knew I shouldn’t be happy that my husband had killed a lot of people, but fuck. What a lifesaver. Irony—well aware.