Page 66 of Legacy Of Ashes
"Fucking incredible," I finish, then grab his shirt, pulling him down.
He kisses me like he's starving, all teeth and tongue and desperate need. My back hits the elevator wall as his hands grip my waist, lifting me until my legs wrap around him.
"God, Saoirse," he groans against my throat. "Watching you destroy them?—"
The elevator dings. Third floor.
We break apart, breathing hard. My lipstick is smeared across his mouth, his hair messed from my fingers. We look exactly like what we are—two people barely holding back from fucking in a hospital elevator.
"Later," I promise, my voice rough.
"Count on it."
Tiernan looks smaller in the hospital bed, but his eyes still burn with Kavanagh fire. Machines beep around him, marking time he doesn't have much left of.
"It's done," I tell him, taking his hand. "The corruption network is finished. Morrison confessed to killing Detective Kane."
His grip tightens. "Your... real father."
"You're my real father." I sit on the bed's edge. "Blood doesn't make family. You taught me that."
"Proud of you." The words come easier now, his speech improving daily. "My daughter. My heir."
Conall moves to stand beside me, his hand settling on my shoulder. Tiernan's gaze shifts between us, and something like approval crosses his face.
"Good choice," he says to me. "Strong man. Equal."
"More than equal," I correct. "Partner."
"The old ways die with me," Tiernan continues, his voice growing stronger. "You build something better. Something that lasts."
"We will." I squeeze his hand. "Together."
My office door closes with a soft click. The day's tension crashes over me like a wave. Three corrupt officials destroyed. A twenty-year conspiracy exposed. My biological father's murder solved.
And Conall watching me like he wants to devour me whole.
"Come here," I command, sinking into the leather chair behind my desk.
He moves across the room, all restrained power and barely contained desire. When he reaches me, I stand, backing him against the desk.
"My turn to be in charge," I whisper, my hands working his belt.
His breath hisses out. "Saoirse?—"
"You liked watching me take control today." I push his jacket off his shoulders. "Now I'm taking control of you."
My fingers make quick work of his shirt buttons, revealing the chest I've mapped with my tongue. Scars from old fights, muscle earned through years of violence and protection.
"Tell me what you want," I breathe against his skin.
"You. Always you." His hands fist in my hair as I kiss my way down his chest. "My woman. My partner. My fucking everything."
I drop to my knees, looking up at him through my lashes. "Then take what's yours."
I free him from his pants, wrapping my lips around the head of his cock. He's already hard, already leaking for me. The taste of him on my tongue makes me moan around his length.
"Fuck, Saoirse," he groans, his hands tangling in my hair as I take him deeper.
