Filthy (The Five Points' Mob Collection, #1)

by Serena Akeroyd

I was also doing it to please a Points’ man, because that was what we did. We pleased them. My mom had told me once that if I was unlucky enough to come to the attention of one of the runners, she’d forgive me if I gave my virginity to them. Yeah. Fucked up, right?

Though Aidan had definitely laid a few scars on his sons, me, and the rest of the Points, he was under no illusion that if Magdalena ever found that out, he would wake up screaming one night as she snipped off his balls. With a dull pair of kitchen scissors. Maybe rusty ones, too. Just to make sure he got tetanus while she was at it. Magdalena was a multi-tasker like that.

We knew not to share any of those salient facts about the scars on Conor’s back, or Brennan’s weak wrist, with the small woman whose might was bigger than her brawn.

“I wouldn’t hurt you like that,” I chided her. “There are ways I will hurt you . . .” I curved my teeth about her bottom lip, nipped again, just enough to hurt. When she moaned, I knew I’d made my point. “But I wouldn’t have hurt you during your first time.” “I-It’s okay,” she whispered shyly.

I cocked one leg over hers, and covered her like I was a heavy blanket, my face nuzzled into her throat. And for the first time in years, I slept the whole night through.

I should have loathed how he treated me last night. But what had started off rough and harsh had morphed into a bizarre tenderness once he’d realized I was totally new to this. He’d changed then, and I’d loved that even more. The sensitivity of his that came with a bite.

He hummed, then held out his hand. I stilled at the sight but took four hesitant steps toward him. When there were two left between us, he tutted, and I realized what that meant—I scurried forward, covering the distance. When he smiled at me, his impatience disappearing, it was like a cat purring its satisfaction.

I straightened from my position at the door and held out my free hand. When she eyed it like it was a cobra, irritation rattled through me, and I had to force myself to calm down. I wanted to be gentle with her.

“Lying is a serious offense in the Five Points,” I told her gruffly, not sure why I was explaining but explaining nonetheless. From the way her gaze was glued to the side of my face, I figured she was surprised, too. “It is?” “You know our reputation. Aidan O'Donnelly is a Catholic. Lying is a sin.”

Because I didn’t cook, the kitchen shouldn’t have been important to me, but I had good memories of watching Lena cook, of even watching my bitch mother prepare evening meals while I did my homework. It might sound like bullshit coming from a man like me, but the kitchen was the heart of every home. How appropriate was it that I was bringing someone into that very heart, someone who loved cooking.

My mouth watered. “Would you bake me some bread?” The question startled her, and she reared back in surprise—shit, it more than surprised her. She almost fell off the counter seat. I grabbed her and steadied her, relieved she didn’t flinch from my touch. I’d half expected her to, but she didn’t.

“Never underfeed yourself around me, Aoife,” I ground out, not sure why I was so mad, just aware that I was. She licked a drop of syrup that quivered along her bottom lip, and I almost groaned at the sight. “All right, Finn. I won’t.”

When I pulled out, she nipped at my fingertip, making me groan. Her eyes were sparkling for the first time that morning and I knew, point blank, that the way to get her more comfortable around me, the way to make her at ease with my sudden intrusion in her life, was to overwhelm her with sex.

The sight of five loaves on the counter had my lips curving. They were like what my mother had used to make. Farmhouse white, she’d called it. Big things like cartoon loaves. All doughy and pillowy, not sweet like the bread here. It was uncanny how I knew what the bread would taste like before I even cut into it, slathered it with butter, and took a bite. The taste of home hit me, and for once, it didn’t turn my stomach.

It was good. How it was supposed to be. How long we stared at each other as I made love to her—yeah, I thought without a wince, this is making love—I couldn’t say. Time could have slipped through our fingers, or it could have raced past us. All I knew was that I was here, in this moment, with her.

Something changed that morning. After I told Finn we didn’t have to use condoms, he changed. Not in a bad way. But in an ‘I can’t get inside you enough’ way, and hell, I wasn’t about to complain about that. He’d still fuck me until I sobbed, but those moments were interspersed with passionate kisses, and he’d started holding my hand. I’d never thought that could mean so much, but it did.

It was like he changed. I felt it. You could call me crazy, but I wasn’t. The way he looked at me, the way he touched me, this wasn’t about business. This was real. I knew it, and no one would or could convince me otherwise. When he claimed I was his, he wasn’t messing around. He’d meant it, and God, how I wanted him to. I wanted to be his, and I wanted him to be mine.

“You doing right by her?” he inquired, tilting his head to stare down into my eyes. “It’s too much to ask that my lads don’t dip their wicks everywhere they go, but are you treating her right?” “She’s the marrying kind,” I informed him softly, and Aidan stilled at my side before he released a gentle laugh.

“You’ll be kind to her?” I asked, my tone hesitant. He scowled at me. “You think I’ll be mean to the first girl one of my boys brings to a roast? Not even Dec brought that Deirdre around,” he grumbled.

“Not mean, just . . . you know, don’t freak her out?” I was well aware I was pleading with him, and knew that could go either one of two ways. It would stir his amusement or prick his temper. “Like me to pretend to be a plumber or an electrician, would you?” he asked, and I was relieved to see the twinkle in his eye. “Not exactly,” I muttered. “Just don’t mention the time you black-balled Jimmy the Fish, or the time you managed to knee cap two men who were tied together with one bullet.” He snickered. “Gotcha. I’ll be on my best behavior. Go on with you. Get your lass and bring her to meet the family.”

“Marry me, Aoife.” Those three words had my heart stuttering in my chest. His hips ceased their swift pace, and he began to rock into me gently, coaxingly.

No, I didn’t know this man. But I knew enough. I knew that I needed him as much as he needed me. This fire we created together, I knew it was rare. That was evident, because every time, Finn seemed stunned by the inferno we created together. Maybe a relationship couldn’t be forged on sex, but this wasn’t just sex. This was everything.

It was insane. I knew that. It was ill-advised, unwise, every synonym of stupid in the thesaurus, and yet, there was no whisper of a doubt in my mind, no hesitation in my voice, no question of what my answer would be as I told him, “Yes.”

Watching Aoife at the large dining table with my family had something settling inside me. It was like I was finally calm, something inside me was able to rest. It was crazy to feel like that. At any moment, one of the dipshits could say something to hurt, offend, or terrify the crap out of her.