Page 36 of Bloody Knuckles

"Aren't I?" My hand finds her waist, sliding around to the small of her back. "You played your role perfectly tonight. The conquered enemy, turned willing accomplice."

"And if it wasn't a role?" she challenges, tilting her chin up. "If I've decided cooperation serves my interests better than yours?"

"Then I'd say you're finally thinking like a boss." I lower my mouth to her ear. "But I'd also wonder what game you're really playing?"

Her laugh vibrates against my chest. "Perhaps the same one as you."

The words echo her earlier speech—clever, calculated, and just dangerous enough to send heat curling through my veins. I press closer, pinning her against ancient stone.

"Do you know what I'm thinking right now?" I murmur, lips brushing her temple.

"That you'd like to bend me over that display case while your family watches?" Her hand slides between us, palm pressing against my growing hardness. "Your body betrays your thoughts, Cormac."

"Christ," I growl, capturing her wrist. "You play with fire."

"I told you once—I was born in flames." Her free hand strokes my jaw. "The question is whether you can stand the heat."

The challenge ignites something primal in me. I capture her mouth in a bruising kiss, uncaring who might witness from the main hall. She responds instantly, opening for me, her tongue battling mine for dominance.

When we break apart, her lips are swollen, cheeks flushed. "Your uncle is watching," she whispers.

"Good." I deliberately brush my thumb across her bottom lip. "Let him see exactly who holds the power here."

"And who might that be?" Her smile turns wicked. "The man who kidnapped me? Or the woman who's made him hard in front of his entire family?"

The combination of defiance and desire pushes me dangerously close to the edge of control. "We're leaving."

"Running away, Donovan?" she taunts.

"Making sure I don't take you against this wall," I counter, adjusting my suit jacket to conceal the evidence of my arousal. "Business is done for tonight."

We make our goodbyes, getting knowing glances from younger associates and disapproving frowns from elders. Seamus watches from across the hall, the distaste evident in his stillness. A problem for another day.

Outside, the night air cools heated skin. Declan waits with the car, ignoring the tension crackling between Aoife and me as we slide into the back seat.

"Home," I instruct, raising the privacy partition before turning to Aoife. "You exceeded expectations tonight."

"You expected me to fail? I don’t fail, ever." She settles against the leather seat, dress riding higher on her thighs. "Did I earn a reward?"

My hand is sliding upward beneath silk. "What did you have in mind?"

"Freedom might be nice," she suggests, though her legs part slightly beneath my touch. "A phone call to my father, perhaps?"

"Not happening." My fingers trace patterns on her inner thigh, edging toward her center. "Try again."

Her breath catches as I brush against lace panties. "Then maybe you could finish what you started in that cell."

"Here?" I press against the damp fabric, feeling her heat. "With Declan just beyond that partition?"

"Unless you don’t have the nerve." Her hand covers mine, pressing it harder against her core. "Or the skill to keep me quiet."

The challenge burns through any remaining restraint. I slide onto the floor between her knees, pushing her dress up around her waist. Her black lace panties—purposefully chosen to drive me mad all evening—present one final barrier I remove with a sharp tug.

"If you make a sound," I warn, spreading her thighs wider, "I stop. Understand?"

She nods, pupils dilated with arousal. The car's tinted windows provide privacy from the outside world, but Declan would certainly hear any noise despite the partition.

I lower my head between her thighs, inhaling her arousal before tasting her with a broad stroke of my tongue. Her hips buck involuntarily, a gasped "fuck" escaping before she clamps her hand over her mouth.

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