“Good, because on whatever plane of existence there is, Sir, Iamyours. I’m Conall Morrissey, Pet to the greatest mob boss that ever existed. Every breath I take belongs to you, every move I make is because I long to be closer to you.”
“Aren’t you a romantic, Pet?” I kissed across his chin and down his neck, licking the spot where the collar met his skin. I rocked my hips, and he groaned. If it was going to be a while before we had sex again, I wanted to make this one count. I sucked on his throat right above his collar and the whine that spilled from him worked its way to my balls. “I’m going to leave a reminder of me on every inch of your body.”
I sat back on my knees and helped him push his legs to his chest again. I began to move, dragging my cock out of his hole before thrusting back inside. We both groaned. His tightness pressed in around me, his warmth enveloping me. There was sex, then there was this.
Us.
Together.
He buried his face between his knees, sobbing with need and pleasure as I drove my length into him and pulled out again. Sweat beaded on my forehead, rolling down to sting my eyes as I kept my gaze on his face, too eager to see every reaction to look away. My heart pulsated against my ribs in a bruising pace, like it was trying to reach for its owner beneath me. My injuries from this morning’s fight sent sharp spikes of pain through me, but the feeling was insignificant compared to how my body reacted to being inside Conall.
“Come apart for me, Pet.”
Faster.
Harder.
My cock drove into him.
“Give me what I need. Touch yourself,” I ordered.
He shuddered and spat in his hand, reaching between his legs for his cock. He stroked himself in time with my thrusts, panting. “So close, Sir. So fucking close.”
I never wanted this moment to end. He was my past, my present, and my future. My forever.
“Come apart for me.” When his orgasm hit, he threw back his head and the curses that left him sizzled my blood. Cum painted his stomach and chest, some landing across his cheeks, and he squeezed tight around me.
Warmth spread through my stomach and lower, and every nerve in my body sang for him. Pressure built at the base of my spine, and I thrust a few times before the tidal wave ofpassionate release swept through me. I stilled inside him as I came, flooding his hole and trembling through the feelings that assaulted me.
Conall stared at me, caressing his fingers over my wrist, hungry for this, for me. “Right there.Sloan. Fill me until I’m leaking. I want to feel you still leaking out of me all day.”
I spread his thighs and fell on top of him, and he wrapped his arms and legs around me tight. He carded his fingers through my hair, trailing kisses over my sweaty cheeks as exhaustion swept through me. My injury ached, but the nurses had patched me up, so there wasn’t anything more I could do with it but let it heal. Conall didn’t need to know something was wrong with me, either.
“You feel so good inside me, Sir. Stay here with me.”
I groaned. “I can’t. Fionn needs me, and I have to handle the cops.”
“Then, let me come with you,” he begged, voice breaking. “Let me be at your side.”
“No, you stay here.” I pushed myself up on my elbows and stroked a line down his temple and cheek. “Listen to me, remember what you promised. If you hear anything has happened to me, you take charge while Fionn’s in the hospital.”
He opened his mouth to argue, but I shushed him with my finger over his lips.
“This is an order, Conall. I don’t know what’s going to happen, and I trust you to take care of the Company. Hide the guns, destroy the evidence, get some guard dogs, and barricade yourself with men who would die for us. Cillian and his guys, especially.” I slanted my mouth over his and kissed him gently. My heart squeezed painfully. “Whatever happens, protect yourself and Fionn. Do what you must. You and Fionn need to come first. You’re my world, and I’d rather see the Company crumble than lose you or my nephew. Understood?”
He exhaled. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good.” I closed my eyes and rested my forehead against his.
No matter what came, Conall could handle it.
The police marched into Fionn’s hospital room later that morning, close to midday, toescortme to the station for questioning. According to them, they’d found the gun Daire and I had dumped into the garbage can near the hospital, which made the entire situation worse than I’d expected. My men were supposed to clean up that mess. Anger surged inside me at their failure. My fingers itched to crush the men who’d fucked up. I’d annihilate their existence later.
Sitting in the interview room wasn’t a new experience. I’d been in here more than a few times while cops tried to charge me with something.Anything.Their feeble attempts never worked.
The cop in front of me—Detective Samuel Smith—narrowed his eyes. A scar ran under his lip and I’d always wondered if someone he’d arrested had given it to him. I’d sure love to hand him another one, or better yet, shatter his nose instead. “You think we don’t know it was your gun, Killough? It has your prints on it. They’re in our system.”
“The chances of finding a print on a gun is low, not to mention you ran them a little too fast,” Cashmore, my lawyer, drawled with an unimpressed glare. The confidence in his tone verged on cocky. He was a man who’d won more cases than he’d lost and was paid the big bucks for his talents. Getting one over the cops was an everyday occurrence for him and the police force hated him. “I think you’re lying to us.”
