Chapter 19
CHAPTER
NINETEEN
I watch Saoirse command the room and my cock throbs against my zipper.
Three weeks since Tiernan's stroke, and she's become something that makes me ache. Her dark hair is pulled back, showing the curve of her neck I want to bite. Those emerald eyes scan each face with authority that hits me like a fist to the gut.
Christ, I'm in trouble.
"Gentlemen," she says, and her voice makes me think of her moaning my name while I'm buried inside her. "We're discussing the new structure moving forward."
Twelve lieutenants sit around the table. I know each face, each weakness. But all I can focus on is how Saoirse's blouse pulls across her breasts when she leans forward. How her lips part when she speaks. How badly I want to bend her over this table and fuck her in front of every man here.
My hand stays near my gun, but for different reasons now. Any bastard who disrespects her dies. Not because it's my job—because she's mine. Has been since she walked back into this house.
"You want us reporting to a council?" Paddy Sullivan asks.
"You'll report to me," Saoirse replies. "Same as always."
The authority in her voice makes my dick harder. I shift against the wall, grateful my jacket hides how much I want her. She has no idea what watching her take control does to me.
Danny O'Brien leans back in his chair. I've hated this prick for years—too ambitious, too willing to cross lines. His eyes hold disrespect as he looks at her.
"With respect, Miss Kavanagh," he says, making her title sound like an insult. "This family built its reputation on strong leadership."
"What's your point, Danny?" Saoirse asks.
I love how she doesn't flinch. How she meets his challenge head-on. My woman is fearless.
O'Brien stands, placing his hands on the table. "My point is you're asking us to follow a little girl who's been playing at Oxford while we bled for this family."
I want to kill him. The urge to put him down wars with something stronger—the need to see how she handles this. To watch her destroy him.
Saoirse's lips curve in a smile that makes my pulse race. "Interesting. Tell me, Danny, what bleeding have you done lately?"
Fuck me, she's perfect.
"I've given fifteen years to this organization," O'Brien blusters. "Kept the unions in line?—"
"While stealing from the pension fund." Saoirse opens a folder, slides papers across the table. "Three hundred thousand over two years."
The room goes silent. O'Brien stares at the documents while sweat beads on his forehead. Saoirse set a trap and he walked right into it.
My cock aches watching her work. This is what I've wanted—to see her embrace the power she was born for. To watch her become the queen she's meant to be.
"You can't prove that," O'Brien says, but his voice shakes.
"Bank records. Wire transfers. Your signature." Saoirse's voice turns cold. "Should I continue?"
She came prepared. Turned his attack into his downfall. I want to drag her from this room and fuck her until she screams.
O'Brien straightens, desperation making him stupid. "You think you can threaten me? I know things about this family that would interest the feds."
That crosses every line. My gun appears in my hand. But Saoirse raises one finger, and I stop.
Not because it's an order. Because I want to see her finish this.
"Danny, you've served this family for fifteen years," she says. "But service doesn't earn you the right to steal from us or threaten us."
Every word makes me harder. This is my woman—ruthless, intelligent, born to rule.
"Here's what happens," Saoirse continues. "You're leaving Boston tonight. There's a cottage in County Cork where you'll spend your remaining years. You'll receive a pension—the same amount you stole."
"And if I refuse?"
Her smile could stop hearts. "Then Conall escorts you outside, and we see how well you swim with broken legs."
Heat rushes through me at the way she says my name. Like she owns it. Like she owns me.
I step forward, gun pointed at O'Brien's chest. "Your choice. Ireland or the harbor."
He deflates. "Ireland."
"Smart man." Saoirse nods to the guards. "Help Danny pack. His flight leaves at midnight."
As they escort O'Brien out, he stops at the door. "This isn't over."
"Yes, it is," I say quietly. "And if you contact anyone about family business, that cottage will need a new tenant."
After the door closes, Saoirse addresses the remaining men. "Anyone else have concerns?"
Silence. Complete submission.
"Excellent. Council meetings will be monthly. Questions?"
The lieutenants file out, offering respectful nods. When we're alone, I holster my gun and move to the window, but I'm watching her reflection.
"You handled that perfectly," I say.
"I had good backup." Her voice comes from right behind me.
I turn, and she's close enough to touch. The scent of her perfume makes my head spin.
"O'Brien was always going to be a problem," I tell her, stepping closer.
"Will he stay quiet?"
"He'll disappear if he's smart." My hand finds her waist. "If not, I have friends in Cork."
Her eyes search mine, and I see hunger burning there. The same need that's been eating at me for months.
"Conall," she whispers.
"Saoirse." My thumb traces her lower lip. "Do you know what watching you command that room did to me?"
Her breath catches. "Tell me."
"Made me hard as a rock." I press against her, letting her feel my erection. "Made me want to bend you over this table and show every man here who you belong to."
"Who do I belong to?" she asks, voice breathless.
"Me." I grip her hair, tilting her head back. "You're mine, Saoirse."
"Then take me."
Our mouths crash together, months of wanting exploding into desperate need. She tastes like sin and power, everything I've craved. I back her against the wall, my thigh pressing between her legs.
"Someone could walk in," she gasps.
"Let them." I bite her neck, making her moan. "Let them see their queen getting fucked by her king."
Her hands fumble with my belt. "Your apartment. Now."
"Can you wait that long?" I slide my hand up her thigh, finding wet heat through silk panties. "Or should I make you come right here?"
She's soaked. Ready for me. I stroke her through the fabric and she shudders.
"Conall, please?—"
"Please what? Please fuck you against this window? Please make you scream my name where you just destroyed a man?"
"Please take me home," she whispers, grinding against my hand.
I step back, straightening her skirt with shaking hands. Her lips are swollen, her hair messed. She looks thoroughly debauched and we haven't even started.
"Get your coat," I growl. "We're leaving."
"What about the rest of the day?"
"Fuck the rest of the day." I grab her hand. "I've waited twenty years to have you. I'm not waiting another minute."
In the elevator, I pin her against the wall, my mouth on her throat. She moans as I suck the spot that makes her weak.
"The cameras?—"
"Don't care." I slide my hand under her skirt, fingers finding her clit through soaked silk. "You're mine now, Saoirse. Mine to touch wherever I want."
She comes apart in my arms, biting my shoulder to muffle her cries as I work her through her climax. When the elevator opens, her legs shake.
"That's just the beginning," I promise, leading her to my car. "Wait until I get you naked."
Tonight, I'm going to worship every inch of her body. Tonight, I'm going to show her exactly what belonging to me means.