Page 94 of Dangerous Strokes

“Ronan…”

“Not-fucking-yet, Annika!”

But he keeps thrusting inside of me like I have fucking magical powers. For a moment, I truly think I do, because there’s something electric brewing inside of me, rippling beneath my flesh, holding on for dear life.

“Now! Come for me, little witch!”

I hastily reach between us, but I barely touch my clit before those walls shatter and trembling pleasure floods me. Then he does too, filling my pussy as he comes with such force, his jerks send me deeper into this world where nothing but blinding pleasure exists. It carries me through endless shock waves that threaten to render my body completely useless.

When the spasms subside, he begins pulling out of me, but I cry out.

“No.” I need him in there… I don’t know why, I just need to feel him.

He frowns for a moment before he lets my legs fall around him. Leaning in, he then rolls us over until I’m laid on top of him, my head on his chest, legs on either side of him, and his cock nestled exactly where it belongs.

I fall asleep with his hands stroking my back, my body satisfyingly spent, and my heart full.

CHAPTER 21

RONAN

“Well, it’s pretty damn impressive.”I look around the newly renovated space, the fight club looking both rough and somehow luxurious. The ring is in the middle of the vast room with a low ceiling, a few rows of seats surround it on two sides, while the other two have a few small round tables, reminiscent of the speakeasy upstairs.

It lacks decor on its black walls and the only lights in the room are directed toward the ring, everything else bathed in darkness. The lack of windows enhances the privacy of the space, even if it’s not really that small. The stairs that lead up to the bar and office are now separated by a wall, and without the right fingerprint you cannot get through the door. On the opposite side, there’s a door leading to a couple of locker rooms, toilets, and a gym that looks more like a space where you can take sledgehammers to an old car.

The money laundering business is all set up as well. The club renovations finished a couple of weeks ago, but we gave ourselves more time to make sure the covert side of things will work exactly as it should. It’s the start of November now, and it’s finally opening night.

“It’s perfect.” Madds takes one last look around the empty club that’s about to fill soon.

We’ve invited a select few, but word has spread, and even the dark elite of Queenscove wants a piece of the action. There’s something about a brutal fight that brings people together.

“I’m still surprised that you don’t want to be the first one to fight.” I say as I catch a flickering look from Vin. I could have sworn there was a hint of worry in there.

“For a good show I would have to hold back. And I’m not in the mood for that.” Madds says flatly.

One could think he’s smug, but we’ve seen him fight—both in the ring and with enemies—he’s unforgiving. The act of fighting in itself is not what he’s after, but the release it provides, and he doesn’t tend to stop until he gets what he needs. Sometimes the brink of death is where he finds it.

But the man is well over six foot, packed with muscles, not really lean, more of a beast with human eyes, yet scarily agile. This makes him a threat to any adversaries and, unfortunately, it rarely takes much effort or time for him to put someone down.

“Yeah, I guess it’s wise to let someone else go first.”

At least the fights can last longer.

“It’s going to be a good show.” Vin quirks his lips.

“And we’re gonna need that. Two of Katya’s girls are bringing theirdateshere tonight. We want them entertained and loose-lipped. One of them is Jonah Holt, and as a favor to The Ghost, we have to get some info out of him,” Finn chimes in.

Good. The girls are experts at gathering the precious information we want, leverage to hold on people or to sell, perfect material for negotiation, and maybe a bit of light blackmail. Or heavy ones. Men turn into idiots when they’re boozed up or horny, and Katya’s training and skill in recruiting is proving invaluable to our operation. Especially since no one knows that the escort service has any business affiliation with us. In Queenscove’s hungry eyes, it’s only an elite escort service catering to the rich and famous. Definitely not what it actually is.

“What about you?” I turn to Finn.

“What about me?”

“Are you bringing… a date?”

He narrows his eyes before lifting an eyebrow.

“So what if I am? Do you have a problem with that?!”

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