Chapter 23
Ronan
After Colton leaves my office, I dial Finn.
“Hello, brother,” he greets me.
“Did you find a way into the loan business?”
“You doubt us? Taylor had access in under five last night. I actually learned a couple of things from our little adventure.”
“And that would be?”
“It’s not a payday loan place. It’s where they are laundering their money. You should have access to their files. I’m surprised you haven’t checked the connection yet.”
I’m surprised too. Focusing on taking these people down is my priority, but my mind is clouded by what I did to Colton. The look on his face last night when he left the bed—the bed I had lost control in—plays like a slideshow in my head.
“I’ve been busy.” I play it off. But Finn knows me too well to let it go.
“Busy playing with your toy.” Finn chuckles.
“Be glad you’re several hundred miles away right now. If you weren’t, I’d cut your throat. Never disrespect Colton again.” I growl into the phone.
“Whoa, just kidding, Ro. I forgot that AIs don’t have a sense of humor. No disrespect meant,” Finn backtracks.
Conor might be the oldest and Finn the youngest of the four of us, but everyone knows that Liam and I are the most dangerous. I destroy my targets digitally before taking them out physically. I fuck up their lives and watch them try to fix it, knowing that they can’t.
I hang up the phone. I’ll deal with Finn when he gets back. Right now, I have more important matters to attend to. I open the connection to the payday loan company. The cult has all of the records saved on the server. They thought they could keep it safe from prying eyes.
I’m so focused on extracting the information and tracing every name that I don’t hear Colton come back until he shuts the door.
I look up. His face is set in hard lines, his jaw tight.
He’s going to tell me never to touch him again, not that I can blame him.
He locks the door without taking his eyes off me.
“You and I need to talk, Ronan,” he says as he strides toward me with purpose.
I only nod. I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want him to tell me that he is leaving me.
I’m expecting him to stay on the other side of the desk, keeping distance between us.
But he continues until he stands beside my chair.
He grips the arm of the chair and turns me to face him.
If he hits me, I’ll let him. Hell, if he had a knife, I would tell him where to cut me.
I’d bleed out for him if that’s what he wants.
I’m surprised again when he grips my chin. “Tell me why you started pulling away from me after you fucked me last night?”
I don’t answer. How can I say it out loud?
“Tell me, Ronan.” He leans down so his face is right in front of mine.
“I hurt you,” I tell him. I feel his grip tighten. “I could see it when you shut the bathroom door between us.”
He takes a deep breath and exhales. The feel of it crosses my face, and I remember how it feels on my skin when he sleeps on my chest.
“Oh, my sweet delusional man. I wasn’t hurt,” he says.
When I try to argue, he moves his hand from my jaw to cover my mouth.
“You don’t get to talk. I’m going to say this as bluntly as I can, so maybe you can get it through your analytical brain.
I wasn’t hurt the way you think. I was embarrassed, Ronan.
Yes, my ass was sore, but your research should have told you that was going to happen.
It was my first time, and unlike you, I didn’t fucking Google what to expect.
I didn’t know that I was going to feel like I had to shit. ”
He closes the distance and kisses me hard on the lips.
“You have given me hope, Ronan,” he says, kissing me again. “And last night you gave me even more. It was the best night of my life. But because you decided in your own head that you hurt me, you took part of that joy from me. Do you think that was fair?”
He runs his nose up my neck to my ear. My brain glitches, so first I nod, and then I shake my head. Fuck, what was the question again?
“It wasn’t fair, Ronan, not to me and not to you. You decided you knew what was happening without talking to me. Your mom told me your diagnoses, so we are going to set some rules.”
He nips at my neck. This new side of Colton is hot as fuck. He’s in command, in control. I lean my head to give him more of my neck. He slides down to his knees in front of me.
“Rule number one: never assume you know what I’m feeling. You ask me. I’m going to try to remember to explain things until we get used to each other.” He unbuckles my belt.
“Rule number two: never pull away from me again. I need your touch. It grounds me. This is the first time that I’m asking for something for myself, and you are going to give it to me.” Rule number two is punctuated by him unbuttoning my pants and sliding down my zipper.
“Rule number three.” He nudges my hips up so he can slide my pants and boxer briefs down. My cock is hard and already leaking. “And listen closely. I want you to take control, especially in the bedroom.”
Sticking out his tongue, he licks a stripe up my shaft from my balls to my tip, lapping at the precum already gathering there. He swirls around it before taking just the head into his mouth. Using his spit, he moves his hand up and down my length. He looks up at me.
“I like that you take charge and that I’m not alone anymore. I need you, Ronan, and I have never needed anyone.”
I can’t acknowledge what he is saying because he swallows my dick down.
He’s only able to get about halfway before he gags.
Fuck, the sound of him choking on my cock is enough to make me blow down his throat right then and there.
He continues his assault on my cock, moving his hand in sync with his mouth.
I feel my climax build and know that my release is right there.
Then he stops, pulling his mouth from me with a small pop.
“Do you understand the rules? Do you agree to them?”
“Yes,” I say. Right now, I would agree to anything this man wants.
As soon as the word leaves my mouth, he returns to sucking me with brand new vigor.
It takes me seconds for my orgasm to rush through me.
I cum hard, rope after rope jetting down his throat.
He takes it all. I need to catch my breath and take care of him.
But when I look down at him, he has that same blissful look on his face that he has every time I’ve seen him cum.
I lean forward, careful not to disturb his head lying on my thigh.
At some point, he must have removed his own cock and come.
I brush my fingers over his hair. Through his long, thick lashes, he looks up at me.
Something in my chest squeezes tight. And when he smiles at me, I get a hit of my drug. His dimples pop, and like any drug addict, I crave it. Not bothering to right my clothes, I pull Colton up and sit him firmly on my lap. I wrap my arms around him as he snuggles close to me.
“Was that okay?” Colton asks so quietly that I barely hear him.
“The rules or the blowjob?” I ask.
“Both, I guess,” he burrows closer into my neck. His soft breath teases my skin.
“Look at me, a stór?” I lean back just a little to allow him to raise his head. “You’re perfect. I need rules; I follow the rules. Most psychopaths are like that. You give me what I need.”
“Most what now?” Colton pulls back even farther, sitting up straighter in my lap. His eyes move back and forth to mine.
“Psychopaths. You said Mom explained our diagnoses to you.”
“She said you all have antisocial personality disorder.” He gets that furrow again.
“Yes, we do.” I study his face. He looks confused, but also something else that I don’t know. “Rule number one,” I say, “I don’t understand your expression. So I’m asking, what did I say that has you looking like that?”
“You said, psychopath. I thought your mom just meant you spend too much time on computers and are socially awkward. Psychopaths are dangerous, right?”
Is his expression fear? Is he afraid of me now? That tightness in my chest returns.
“Are you afraid of me, a stór? Have I ever done anything to make you feel that way?”
“No,” he shakes his head. “You make me feel safe.”
“Have I ever done anything to make you think I would hurt Ollie?”
He doesn’t answer right away. After a beat, he shakes his head again.
“I would never willingly hurt either of you. I will hunt down those who have, and I will always protect you. Psychopaths are not inherently evil, even though that’s how they are portrayed on TV. Mom says that our emotions are muted, and when they come up, it’s hard for us to understand them.”
He stares at me, not saying anything. I wait for him to process. The fear of him leaving me again hits me hard. I tighten my hold on his waist. I can’t let him leave me.