‘That warehouse could have buried us all. The entire operation. Thank fuck the fire Kai started took care of most of the evidence. By the time the fire brigade got the flames under control, the place was little more than a twisted shell of steel and melted plastic. Hardly anything left to identify.’
‘And the police?’ I ask.
Dominic takes another slow sip of his whiskey. ‘The chief superintendent in Dublin is a reasonable man.’
‘Meaning?’
His lips twitch. ‘Meaning he reminded the Belfast lads not to dig too deeply.’
I shake my head softly. The corruption should horrify me. Once upon a time it would have. Now it just feels like another piece of the strange new reality I’ve stepped into.
‘So, Ciaran is the scapegoat,’ I say quietly.
Dominic studies the pool for a long moment before answering. ‘For now.’
Something in his voice makes me turn to look at him. ‘What does that mean?’
His gaze meets mine, dark and steady. Fire dances in his espresso coloured irises. ‘It means I have a plan.’
A shiver runs through me. Not fear. I’m never afraid when I’m with him anymore. Dominic doesn’t say things like that unless he fully intends to follow through.
‘Ciaran was transferred from Belfast this afternoon.’
‘To where?’
‘Ravenhill.’ The smile lifting his lips this time is a real one. ‘He’s spending some quality time with our father while we work out how to get him out of there.’
‘I take it that was your doing?’ I eye him over the rim of my wine glass.
‘Frankie made a few calls.’ Dominic shrugs. ‘It’s been handy having the old fucker back this side of the Atlantic.’
Frankie seems capable of bending the entire world to his will if he decides to. ‘He’s not that old.’ I shrug, tilting my face up to the evening sun. ‘In fact, he’s kind of handsome.’
‘Do you have the hots for my uncle?’ His fingers dart beneath my dress, inching higher inside my inner thigh.
‘No,’ I gasp, glancing down at where his fingers shamelessly skirt between my legs. ‘I only have eyes for one Kincaid.’
‘Damn fucking right you do.’ His fingers slip inside the scrap of silk at the junction of my legs. ‘Frankie told us all to carry on as normal.’ His pupils darken. ‘And that means fucking my wife every chance I get.’ His fingers sink into my centre and pump. ‘Come, sit on my knee, sweetheart.’ He puts his whiskey down on the coffee table beside us, then prises my wine from my hand and places it down next to it.
I hop onto his lap, straddling my legs either side of him as he unbuttons his suit pants and frees himself. He might be a dom, but since Lake Como, he has no problem with me climbing onto his lap and riding his cock—especially if it’s his idea.
‘What if someone sees?’ His men are circling the grounds; they always are.
‘Let them.’ Our eyes lock, his smouldering into mine as he runs his palms over my breasts. I dip my face lower to meet his lips, and his tongue sinks inside my mouth as Irock up onto my knees and sink down on his thick, hard length.
I break our kiss and pull my dress up around my waist to watch as our bodies join in the most cathartic way.
Skin slaps against skin. He reaches for my breasts again. ‘Fucking stunning,’ he murmurs, looking down.
‘You still need to take me back to the club,’ I pant.
‘I will, I promise.’ His hands land on my hips, guiding me into a deeper, faster rhythm. Oh yes, my husband still thrives on control, but truthfully, when we’re joined like this, neither of us is in control. We’re fucking animals.
‘Take your dress off,’ he demands. ‘I need to taste those perfect tits in my mouth.’
‘Yes, sir,’ I tug the cotton over my head and toss it to the floor.
‘Good girl,’ he purrs, stretching round to unhook my bra. It falls to the ground with a soft thud. My nipples tighten as the evening air hits them, but Dominic’s mouth is on me in seconds. I moan, bucking against him.
