Page 31 of Conall's Reign

Well… hell, yes, he could take charge if I could feel like that.

I hoped he’d do it again.

“Now, let’s try again,” he said, nearly prompting me to open my eyes and focus.

Again? I perked up.

I didn’t even bother nodding or trying to move. If he killed me now, I could die happy. I watched as he rolled on a condom per my request.

No children, I’d said, and it seemed like he was complying.

His bodywasa temple, I thought as I looked at him from under my lashes. Conall was beautiful in that rugged way, with sculpted abs and thick thighs. Even his cock was sturdy and thick, jutting out from his body in that same commanding fashion as he worked the condom over it.

Watching him from beneath hooded lids, I could probably mention that I had received a birth control shot, allowing us to forgo the condom; however, it was better to be safe than sorry. Besides, I had made my stand and hadn’t changed my mind about having kids.

Without preamble, he hitched one of my legs up and started to work into me, all the while watching our joined bodies with fascination. The first touch of the blunt end of his cock made me shiver, but he seemed to pay me no mind as he pushed forward.

“That’s it, wife. You’re made for me.” He closed his eyes as he groaned, but I kept mine open, watching him as he made shallow strokes, his fingers moving across his cock and my folds, playing them both as he stretched me. Each butterfly touch made me wild, making me try to buck against him, but he held me firm as he controlled the rhythm. “Don’t move until I say.”

“What if I do?” The words slipped out of my mouth on their own accord. “You can’t hurt me. It’s in my contract.” I groaned as he drove in deeper, his eyes narrowed on mine.

“No, I can’t touch you in anger. Nothing we do in the bedroom will ever be in anger. You’ll like everything we do, even if it’s a punishment. Even when you’re naughty.”

The idea was tantalizing. Conall had managed to get fully seated and now rocked against me, grinding against my clit with each stroke as he pounded. He stopped me and held me firm whenever I tried to tilt up. The restriction burned my senses because a release was so close I could practically taste it. I reached for him and tried to pull him closer, unsure if he’d allow it.

I tangled my fingers in his hair and pulled him down for a kiss, sucking at his mouth, trying to tell him without words how desperate I was. I wanted him to increase his pace — fuck me harder.

He hitched up my other leg, and mercifully, he picked up the pace. “That’s a good girl. Squeeze me just like that. Milk me dry. You want me to fuck you, don’t you?”

I did. He stroked into me, each movement pulling me closer to the edge all over again as his hips snapped forward over and over again.

“You’re going to come again for me now.” He rubbed my clit steadily. Hard. I blew apart into a million pieces as I felt him surge forward and the ensuing warmth in the condom as he came.

“What a good wife,” he cooed, kissing me gently and rocking back into me. Once. Twice. A third time and a fourth. He looked at me as if he were assessing whether he had done a thorough job. Giving a slight nod, he said, “I’ll be right back.”

When he rolled away to dispose of the condom, I felt bereft and a little cheated. I didn’t have anyone to blame but myself. I wished I could feel the weight of him on me as we lay together afterward. The condom was unnecessary, but I was too proud to say so, and there were still feelings I had about my mother and the “what if” scenario. What if I got pregnant? Where would I be then? I closed my eyes to block out the confusing feelings swirling in my head and tried to enjoy the afterglow. When he suggested that if I got pregnant, I would have the baby and leave, my heart stuttered in my chest. I wasn’t sure I could do that. Then I really would be just like my mother. No, if I kept my baby, then I would stay and be the best damn mother ever.

Conall slid back into bed and pulled me close, kissing my shoulder and whispering words I couldn’t hear. All I could focus on were the words my mother used to tell me …

“Francesca, you’re a disaster.”

“Francesca, I should have never had you.”

“Francesca, you were a mistake.”

?

Sunlight streamedthrough the narrow gap in the heavy blinds, pulling me from a restless sleep. The day’s reality struck me before I even opened my eyes. I was married. To Conall O’Kelly.

I let out a soft groan and stretched, feeling the luxurious sheets cool against my skin. At least Conall had a nice bed. He hadn’t skimped on the linens either. My head turned automatically toward the other side of the massive bed, which was empty.

Our night had been quite eventful. Conall was more than a generous lover. I had never worried about a lack of chemistry between us, but now I feared I would combust whenever he was in my line of sight. The man practically set me on fire every time he glanced at me. Now, if anything, I’d turn into a nymphomaniac.

I knew Theo had probably left me a slew of messages asking for details about how my evening went. She had been more concerned about whether I would have a room to myself than I had been. Theo had been indignant about my newly changed circumstances. She wanted me to be allowed to come home before the wedding, but that had never been possible. Truthfully, I had been excited about sharing a room with Conall, and I was right.

Theo and I had always known we would eventually be cornered into the blood oath, but we hadn’t been certain that a real marriage was part of it. The mechanics of the oath eluded our research. We knew a legal marriage was necessary, but we didn’t know if consummating it was required. Of course, we had speculated. Mafia men were nothing if not braggarts and macho to the core. There was no way they wouldn’t require you to sleep with them.

Now that I was married to Conall and Cora was married to Maxim, I was pretty sure Theo was freaking out. There was no doubt that she and Angelo were paired up. Theo would swear until she was blue in the face that she loathed Angelo and felt nothing for him, but she was lying. She had had a crush on my brother since she wore her first training bra. Once a year, Theo snuck into my brother’s garage and removed the valve stems from every car he owned.

---