Page 68 of Legacy Of Ashes
TWENTY-FIVE
I'm reviewingshipping contracts when Conall's hands grip my hips from behind. The papers scatter as he spins my chair around.
"The Moscow call starts in five minutes," I gasp as his mouth finds my throat.
"Perfect." His hands slide up my thighs, pushing my skirt higher. "Just enough time to remind you who you belong to."
"Conall, we can't—anyone could walk in."
"Let them." He drops to his knees between my legs, gray eyes dark with hunger. "I want everyone to know you're mine."
His fingers hook into my underwear, pulling them down my legs. I should stop him. Should care about the unlocked door. Instead, I arch toward him as his mouth finds my inner thigh.
"You're already wet," he growls against my skin. "Were you thinking about me during that board meeting?"
"Yes," I breathe. "Always thinking about you."
The first stroke of his tongue makes me cry out. He works me with his mouth while his fingers dig into my thighs, holding me open for him. No gentle buildup—just raw need and the desperate hunger between us.
"Oh fuck," I gasp, gripping his hair.
He pulls back, lips glistening. "Not yet. I want to be inside you when you come."
The phone rings. Conference call alert.
"Answer it," he orders, standing and freeing his cock from his pants.
"I can't—not like this?—"
"Answer the fucking phone, Saoirse."
My hands shake as I reach for it. "Saoirse Kavanagh."
The screen flickers to life, showing Valentin Petrov in his Moscow office. Conall positions himself behind my chair, the head of his cock teasing my entrance.
"Ms. Kavanagh," Petrov says. "You look energized today."
"Just excited about our partnership," I manage, biting back a moan as Conall pushes into me slowly.
"The Dublin acquisition numbers?"
"Thirty percent increase," I gasp as Conall fills me completely. His hands grip my hips, holding me still while I try to focus on business. "All legitimate operations."
"Impressive." Petrov's sharp eyes study me. "Your methods are effective."
Conall starts to move, slow thrusts that make my vision blur. I grip the desk edge, fighting to keep my voice steady.
"The alliance paperwork is finalized," I continue, struggling not to moan as he hits that perfect spot inside me. "Eastern European distribution, clean money only."
"Excellent terms," Petrov nods.
Conall's pace increases, each thrust sending shockwaves through me. His fingers find my clit, circling with maddening pressure.
"I look forward to working with you," I manage to say.
"Likewise. Irish women are dangerous negotiators."
"We get what we want," I agree, my voice breaking as Conall drives deeper.
