Chapter 10
CHAPTER
TEN
I follow Mother through the estate's east wing to a door I've passed a thousand times but never seen opened. She enters a code on a hidden keypad, and the mahogany panel swings inward.
"Twenty years," she says, gesturing me into a room I didn't know exist. "Twenty years I've been preparing for this day."
The space steals my breath. Floor-to-ceiling monitors display financial data from markets across the globe. Swiss bank accounts. London property portfolios. Cryptocurrency wallets worth more than some countries' GDP.
"Mother," I breathe, staring at the numbers. "This is..."
"Legitimate wealth." She settles behind a massive desk, looking more like a Fortune 500 CEO than a mob wife. "Clean money. Legal investments. Everything your father believes is fantasy."
She pulls up account after account. Real estate developments across three continents. Tech startups that became billion-dollar companies.
"The next generation won't inherit just debt and enemies," she continues. "You'll have options. Real options."
A knock interrupts us. Conall enters carrying a leather portfolio, stopping short when he sees the revealed room. His eyes widen as he takes in the financial empire Mother built in secret.
"Mrs. Kavanagh asked me to bring the documents," he says, but his gaze sweeps over the monitors with clear appreciation.
"Perfect timing." Mother stands. "You two review the corporate structures while I prepare for dinner. Saoirse needs to understand her legal position before tomorrow's meeting with Patrick."
She leaves us alone in a room worth hundreds of millions. The door clicks shut, and awareness hits me like a physical force. We're alone. Truly alone for the first time since I returned from Oxford.
Conall moves to the desk, spreading documents with careful precision. "Your mother has been busy."
I watch his hands as he works. Strong fingers that could snap a man's neck but handle papers with surprising gentleness. I wonder what those hands would feel like gripping my hips while he pounds into me.
"The shipping companies, the property developments," he explains, pointing to various holdings. "She's built a legitimate empire alongside your father's criminal one."
His sleeve rides up as he reaches across the desk, revealing the tattoo that winds around his forearm. Celtic knots mixed with something darker. I want to lick every inch of that ink.
"Saoirse? Are you listening?"
Heat floods my cheeks. "Sorry. This is overwhelming."
"Four hundred million dollars usually is." He pulls up another screen. "The cryptocurrency holdings alone have tripled."
I move around the desk to see better, my hip brushing his thigh as I lean over his shoulder. He goes rigid beneath me, and I catch the sharp intake of his breath.
"These accounts," I say, letting my breath ghost across his neck. "They're all in my name?"
His voice sounds strained. "Your mother made sure you'd have real power."
I stay where I am, close enough to smell his cologne. Close enough to feel heat radiating from his body. My nipples tighten against my blouse, and I wonder if he can tell I'm not wearing a bra.
"And you helped her?"
"When discretion was needed." He turns slightly, bringing his face inches from mine. "I understood the vision."
Our eyes lock. The numbers on the screen fade as electricity arcs between us. I can see the pulse hammering in his throat, the way his pupils dilate as he stares at my mouth.
"What vision?" I whisper.
His gaze drops to my lips, then lower to where my blouse gapes open. "A future where you have choices."
"What if I choose you?"
The question hangs in the air. His hands grip the edge of the desk, knuckles white with restraint.
"Saoirse." My name sounds like a warning.
"I've wanted you since I came back from Oxford." The confession spills out. "I touch myself thinking about you. About what your cock would feel like inside me."
His breathing changes, becoming ragged. "Christ, you can't say things like that."
"Why not? It's true." I slide my hand up his chest, feeling his heart race beneath my palm. "I know you want me too. I've seen the way you adjust yourself when you think I'm not looking."
He catches my wrist, but doesn't push me away. "Your father would kill me."
"My father doesn't own my pussy." The crude word makes him groan. "Besides, he's not in charge anymore. I am."
His control wavers. "You have no idea what you do to me."
"Show me."
Something snaps in his expression. His hands frame my face and his mouth crashes down on mine. The kiss is fierce, desperate, years of restraint exploding into pure need.
I melt against him, finally understanding why every other man left me cold. This is what I've been craving. Him.
His hands slide down to grip my waist, lifting me onto the desk. Documents scatter as he steps between my thighs, his mouth never leaving mine. I wrap my legs around him, feeling his thick erection press against my core through our clothes.
"Fuck," he breathes against my lips. "I've dreamed about having you on this desk."
"Then take me." I bite his lower lip hard enough to make him hiss. "I'm so wet for you already."
He groans, his hands sliding up my thighs beneath my skirt. "You're going to be the death of me."
"Good. I want to ruin you for anyone else." I gasp as his thumbs hook into my underwear, dragging the lace down my legs. "Conall, please."
"Please what?" His voice is rough with want as he spreads my thighs wider.
"Touch my pussy. I need your fingers inside me."
His eyes darken as he looks down at me, completely exposed from the waist down. "So pretty. So fucking wet."
He slides one finger into me, then two, his thumb circling my clit with expert precision. I cry out at the contact, pleasure shooting through me like fire.
"That's it," he murmurs, working me with devastating skill. "Take what you need."
I grip his shoulders, using him as leverage as I ride his hand. The coil of pleasure tightens with each stroke, building toward something explosive.
"More," I demand, tugging at his shirt buttons. "I want to see you."
He pulls his shirt off with one hand while the other keeps working between my legs. My mouth waters at the sight of his chest, scarred and tattooed and perfect.
I lean forward to lick his nipple, making him curse. "Your turn to feel good."
My hands move to his belt, freeing his cock from his pants. He's thick and hard and beautiful, pre-cum beading at the tip.
"Saoirse," he warns as I wrap my hand around him.
"I want to taste you." I slide off the desk, dropping to my knees before he can protest.
His hands tangle in my hair as I take him into my mouth. He's salty and warm and I moan around his length, loving the way he shudders above me.
"Fuck, your mouth," he groans, hips jerking as I work him with lips and tongue. "So good, baby. So fucking good."
I take him deeper, hollowing my cheeks as I suck. His fingers tighten in my hair, guiding my movements as I worship his cock with my mouth.
"I'm going to come if you keep doing that," he warns.
I pull off him with a wet pop. "Not yet. I want you inside me when you come."
He hauls me up, his mouth crashing down on mine as he lifts me back onto the desk. "Are you sure? Once we do this?—"
"I'm sure." I guide him to my entrance, gasping as his tip pushes inside. "I've never been more sure of anything."
He slides into me slowly, stretching me perfectly. We both groan at the sensation of him filling me completely.
"Christ, you feel incredible," he breathes, his forehead pressed against mine. "So tight. So perfect."
"Move," I demand, wrapping my legs around his waist. "Fuck me like you've been wanting to."
He starts slow, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in. But I can see the restraint in his jaw, the way he's holding back.
"Harder," I command, raking my nails down his back. "I won't break."
That breaks his control. He starts pounding into me, the desk shaking with each powerful thrust. I cry out with pleasure, the sound echoing off the walls.
"Is this what you wanted?" he growls against my throat. "My cock splitting you open?"
"Yes," I gasp, meeting his thrusts. "God, yes. Don't stop."
His thumb finds my clit again, rubbing tight circles as he fucks me. The dual sensation sends me spiraling toward climax.
"Come for me," he demands. "Let me feel you fall apart on my cock."
His words push me over the edge. I shatter around him, my pussy clenching as waves of pleasure crash through me. He follows me over, his release filling me as he groans my name.
We stay locked together afterward, breathing hard. His hands stroke my hair with surprising tenderness.
"That was..." I start.
"Just the beginning," he finishes, his eyes burning with promise. "When I get you in my bed tonight, I'm going to make you come so many times you forget your own name."
Heat pools between my legs again at his words. "Promise?"
"Promise." He helps me clean up and straighten my clothes, his touches lingering. "But right now, we should review these documents before someone comes looking for us."
I laugh, feeling giddy with satisfaction. "Think anyone heard us?"
His smile is wicked. "If they did, they'll know you're mine now."
The possessive edge in his voice makes me clench with want. Tonight can't come fast enough.