Page 23 of Black Sheep

Jesus.

Her breathing quickens, her pants choppier. “Oh. Oh God.”

“You’re about to come, aren’t you?” My tongue is so thick that I can barely move it to speak.

Her head rolls on the pillow, her eyes at half-mast as she continues to ruthlessly torture her nipple. “Yes,” she moans through clenched teeth. Her fingers move faster, the sound of her fucking filling the room.

I’m a heartbeat from blowing my own load when her back bows and an agonized moan rips from her throat. Her fingers stay in her cunt, mindlessly fucking herself as a powerful orgasm plows through her.

I can’t look away, can’t do anything except curl my hand over my cock, stroking myself as I absorb her every shudder and moan.

When her convulsions die down, she slides her fingers out. Her gaze doesn’t meet mine, and when she turns her head away from me, I allow it, content with the residual tremors that shake her body every few seconds.

When I’m certain I’ve gotten myself under enough control, I move up her body, still making sure not to touch her. “Look at me.”

She turns reluctantly, mutiny once again plastered on her face.

“You hate yourself for this, don’t you?”

“Yes.” It’s a tight admission, her panting breathing nowhere near under control.

“Good,” I whisper, then lean down to speak directly into her ear. “Let that remind you to stay away. Because the next time I see you, this goes one step further. Understood?”

She doesn’t respond, but I know she’s gotten the message. I wait to catch another tremor before I get off the bed. I force myself not to take one last look as I leave the room. I’m halfway down the hall when I hear the distinct lock of her door behind me. I allow myself a grim smile.

My feet don’t stop moving until I’m back in the kitchen. The dogs rise in unison and trot to my heels. We make our way back around the side of the house and across the lawn to the wall.

A tingle in my nape drags my attention over my shoulder. Her room light is on and she’s standing at the window. The fact that she can’t resist watching thrills me.

Whatever twisted roles fate may have chosen to star us in, the savage power of our mutual feelings for each other will never diminish.

I watch her until another light comes on, its oblong shape reflected on the ground. It’s out of my direct view but I know it’s my father’s room.

My gaze returns to Cleo’s window, to the body framed there. Even as the guards tear out of the carriage house, my attention remains on her. She doesn’t move. Neither do I.

Not until the dogs begin to bark. I let myself out, my stride lighter as I retrace my steps back to my car.

My beloved McLaren Spider responds sultrily to my touch, and I accelerate away, my cock still hard, my heart kicking harder. Feeling alive.

After years of skirmishes in the shadows, I’ve launched the first major salvo in the war with my father.

And the flavor of battle has never tasted so sweet.

Chapter Five

SABER-RATTLING

Finnan’s next attempt at saber-rattling comes one night later, via Bolton this time. Of all my brothers, he’s the only one I can tolerate for more than five seconds. There was a time when he leaned toward being a pacifist and therefore seemed more human than the rest of my family. Of course, that didn’t last long. Finnan soon belted that perceived weakness out of him. But perhaps Bolton didn’t lose it all. I wonder if this is why he’s chosen to make the call.

“What the fuck were you thinking, breaking into the house?”

I focus on my brother’s voice. At thirty-one with no clear job title, his role in the mob hierarchy is as an aimless lackey, his inability to stick to one job due to his suspected ADHD a constant source of ridicule from Ronan and Troy. There was a time when I felt almost sorry for him. That time is long gone.

I drift my fingers through the dozens of shirts hanging in my dressing room before settling on the gray silk. Saturday nights are the busiest of the week in any nightclub business, and with the rejuvenated buzz firing up my blood, I’m eager to get to work, perhaps even find a willing female to pound my restless energy into.

Despite returning home and jerking off one more time to the image of Cleo, my libido is nowhere near calm. I intend to find pussy tonight to help alleviate my need where the Punishment Club failed me this past week. There are a few attractive regulars at XYNYC who will more than meet the kind of action I’m looking for.

“Are you going to fucking answer me?”

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