Page 39 of Legacy Of Ashes
"I'm going to come again," she warns, her voice breathless.
"Good." I suck her clit between my lips, and she explodes, her thighs clamping around my head as she rides my face through her orgasm.
I stand, kissing her hard so she can taste herself on my tongue. She fumbles with my belt, desperate to return the favor, but footsteps echo in the hallway.
We spring apart, both breathing hard. I manage to get myself back together just as Tiernan appears, though my cock strains against my zipper and her scent covers my face.
"The terms are acceptable," he announces, oblivious to what he just interrupted. "We'll give Petrov our answer tomorrow."
Saoirse smooths her dress with shaking hands, her panties still pushed aside under the silk. "Of course, Father."
After he leaves, we stare at each other across the dining room. The air between us crackles with unfinished business.
"Tonight," she says, and it's not a question. "Finish what you started."
"This changes everything."
"Everything changed the moment you put your mouth on me." She walks to the door, then turns back. "My room. Midnight. I want your cock inside me when I come next time."
She leaves me standing there with my dick still hard and my world turned upside down.
In six hours, I'll cross every line I've sworn to protect. I'll take what belongs to another man and damn the consequences.
Because watching her marry Petrov would kill me anyway.
At least this way, I get to touch heaven before I burn.
CHAPTER
FIFTEEN
I catchConall's eyes across the hospital waiting room, and the hunger in his stare makes my pussy throb. Three weeks of working side by side while Father recovers. Three weeks of stolen glances and barely controlled lust. Three weeks of pretending I don't touch myself thinking about his mouth between my legs every night.
The way he looks at me now—like he wants to fuck me senseless—sends liquid heat straight to my core. His jaw clenches as I cross my legs, the movement making my skirt ride up just enough to drive him crazy. We both know this game we're playing will destroy us.
Neither of us gives a damn anymore.
"Miss Kavanagh?" The doctor's voice shatters the spell. "Your father is asking for you."
I stand on shaky legs, feeling Conall's burning gaze follow every curve of my body. The raw need in his eyes makes my nipples peak against my silk blouse.
"I'll wait here," he says, voice thick with desire.
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. If I open my mouth, I might beg him to follow me into the nearest room and finishwhat we started in his office yesterday—before Eamon walked in.
Father sits propped against hospital pillows, looking frail compared to the king who built our empire from violence and fear. His silver hair lacks its usual perfection, and the stroke has left his face partially paralyzed. But his blue eyes burn with familiar Kavanagh fire.
"Saoirse." The word slurs but carries absolute authority.
"Father." I settle into the chair, my body still humming from Conall's heated stare. "How are you feeling?"
"Better." He studies my face with uncomfortable intensity. "Russian... good match."
Ice floods my veins. "What?"
"Petrov." Each word costs him effort, but his meaning destroys me. "You... marry. Secure... alliance."
I shoot to my feet, rage replacing desire. "You arranged my marriage?"
