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once again to tell me.

ā€œI canā€™t,ā€ she utters words that barely reach my ears.

Looking to Lillian, I give a motion with my head for her to go ahead and leave. I need her gone. For now, Iā€™ll drop the situation. I can put two and two together to know that whoever ā€˜heā€™ is did something to hurt mo aingeal Ć”lainn. More than anything, I understand some dark secrets and Iā€™m willing to bet hers might even be worse than my own.

I scoop Enya up into my arms and carry her over to the couch, making sure to peek at Ryland as I go. Heā€™s sound asleep, and I move to sit on the couch where I tuck my woman into my arms. ā€œIā€™ll leave it for right now, mo aingeal Ć”lainn, but just know that youā€™re in my bed, youā€™re my woman, it makes everything about you my business.ā€

ā€œTechnically, Iā€™ve not been in your bed, so thatā€™s not true. And I just want to forget about it rather than talk about it, so if youā€™ll excuse me for keeping it to myself.ā€

Fuck me, even upset, Enya can be funny.

Iā€™ll enjoy rectifying that technicality later this evening when I carry her to my room, strip her naked, and lavish her pussy with my tongue before sinking my cock deep into her depths.

Oh, just wait for it to happen.

Grinning, I pull her even tighter, deciding to drop the subject completely and let her think sheā€™s getting her way. Itā€™ll mean I get to have fun tonight and I know exactly how Iā€™m going to do it. Thereā€™s a pretty red scarf sitting in the nightstand of my bed, and I have straps laying in wait with Enyaā€™s name on them.

Yeah, Iā€™m going to enjoy bringing the truth from her pretty little lips. I just gotta prepare for whatever she gives me. Because I know in my gut it ainā€™t gonna be good.

Chapter 9

Enya

The rest of the afternoon and through the evening was spent trying to relax with Kenyon and his son. My ovaries scream out at seeing how good of a dad he is, and I wonder where Rylandā€™s mom is. I want to ask but feel itā€™s not my place.

Kenyon ordered dinner for us, and weā€™d sat together in front of the TV talking with the volume down low. I enjoyed our conversation. I learned heā€™d grown up with his mom, who lives over in Ireland now. Iā€™d been surprised to find out his mom had originally been from the country and came over here when sheā€™d been only eighteen and didnā€™t go back until recently. Iā€™m sure he misses his mom.

While Kenyon puts Ryland down for bed in his room, I went to where he showed me his room was and started a bath like he suggested. Considering my apartment above the bookstore only has a shower, I definitely loved the idea. Apprehensively, I sit in the tub once it fills with water and bubbles. I close my eyes and relax, keeping my mind from going to that dark place.

The one where I hear his laughter as he forces me to do things. His threats to go after my sister if I didnā€™t listen. His gloating about how he controls everything.

Sucking in a breath, I inwardly shake my head.

ā€œThatā€™s one beautiful sight, aingeal,ā€ Kenyon says, and I nearly jump out of my skin at the sound of his voice as I open my eyes.

My gaze locks on his while he moves further into the room, stripping out of his clothes with each step he takes. ā€œScoot forward some,ā€ he orders, and I lick my lips as his jeans slide down his thighs. Kenyonā€™s cock juts forward demanding attention.

I bite my bottom lip to stop myself from moaning at the sight of the thing. Doing as he asks, I scoot forward, and he steps into the tub right behind me. Once heā€™s seated, he pulls my back flush with his front, where he then wraps his arms around me.

Oh, this is nice. Iā€™ve never known caring like this feeling heā€™s giving me right now.

The two of us sit quietly for a bit in the silence, enjoying the warmth of the bath. Kenyonā€™s hands run along my front, his legs encasing me in between his.

ā€œYou ready to talk to me yet about what happened earlier?ā€ he asks, and inwardly I cringe.

ā€œNo,ā€ I utter without hesitation.

Kenyon doesnā€™t push it, and Iā€™m thankful for that. We finish our bath and get out. Soon as weā€™re dry, he lifts me into his arms bridal style, carries me to his bed, and places me in the center. Climbing onto the bed, Kenyon presses his lips to mine, and Iā€™m entranced with the way he kisses me. The tenderness in his touch so sweet, I can feel my heart reaching out to him.

Iā€™m so drunk on his touch, I donā€™t feel him lift my arms over my head until both my wrists are restrained. I gasp into his mouth and fear starts to take hold.

Oh God, no.

Please donā€™t let this be happening.

Kenyon senses the change in me and lifts up enough to look me in the eyes.

ā€œEnya?ā€ he calls my name, but I can barely hear him. My mind goes to somewhere I hate and tears spill down my cheek.

The sound of my stepfatherā€™s voice fills my head as I remember the times he restrained me and did what he pleased.

ā€œFuck,ā€ Kenyon growls, and I find myself instantly freed from the restraints and pulled into his arms. ā€œI didnā€™t realize youā€™d react this way, mo aingeal Ć”lainn, Iā€™m fuckinā€™ sorry,ā€ he says, holding me tightly to him while running his hand, not holding me, along my hair soothingly.

I know he didnā€™t know and didnā€™t think it would bother me. I mean, heā€™s held me in place with my arms over my head, but those times it had been with his hands and not a strap. I know in my mind he wouldnā€™t hurt me while

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