Page 59 of Conall's Reign

She paused as she walked toward the door, glancing over her shoulder. “Oh, and Conall? Call me if we have another body to burn. I already stole the stuff to do it.” She winked as she went.

That even drew a laugh from Francesca.

“God, she’s something,” I said.

“That she is. She’s a good friend. She’s my ride-or-die.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

francesca

The soundof the door shutting behind Theo echoed in the stillness of the penthouse. Well, I had gone and done it. He knew I was a murderer. I sighed.

The weight of Conall’s gaze pressed down on me, heavy and inscrutable. He hadn’t uttered a word since Theo left. Not one. And I loathed it.

“Are you going to stand there brooding all night, or do you have something to say?” My voice was steady, even sharp, despite the turmoil inside me.

Conall leaned against the counter, arms crossed, his eyes dark and inscrutable. “That depends. Are you going to lie to me again?”

A bitter laugh escaped me before I could stifle it. “Lie to you? I never had to tell you anything. I chose to tell you now.

His jaw twitched, but he remained silent.

I turned away, pacing to the windows that overlooked the city, its lights glittering like fallen stars. It was strange how something so vast could make a person feel so small. How could it hold so many secrets? I pressed my fingertips against the cool glass. “What do you want me to say, Conall?

A rustle of movement was followed by his voice, which was low and sharp. “I always want honesty.”

I turned back to face him, my pulse a steady drum in my ears. “You have it. I killed him. I had to.”

“And yet, you never mentioned it to me.”

I swallowed, loathing the accusation in his voice and the subtle disappointment woven through his words. “Because it had nothing to do with you.”

“Everything you do concerns me, Francesca.” His voice was a slow burn, warming the space between us. “You have never understood that.”

“The ego you have.” I barked a laugh but paused as I noticed the look on his face. Conall’s gaze was fixed on me.

His hands settled on my shoulders, running through the strands of my hair, massaging the edges of the nape of my neck. Leaning against him, I gave myself over to him, letting him pull my sweater over my head as he pressed me against the glass, my nipples straining against the lace of my bra.

“Everything concerns me. You don’t understand.”

The words were lost as he mumbled against me. Sometimes I didn’t understand. He was right.

“Explain it to me,” I asked.

“I’ll show you.”

He pressed kisses against my skin, licking and biting, each nip causing a zing straight to my pussy. I could feel his body pressing against me, pushing me flush against the cool glass, so I was trapped there.

“You look beautiful like this baby.” He eased one of the bra cups down so each breast was exposed and pushed up against the glass. “Everyone could see you if they looked up.” He rocked against me so I could feel his hard cock digging into my ass as his fingers glanced down the curve of my waist, his lips ghosting along my neck. “I bet that pussy is drenched.”

I moaned. It was.

I could feel his hands at my skirt, pulling and tugging as he removed the articles of clothing he deemed unnecessary, leaving me exposed and pinned against the glass like one of those insects on black velvet.

He crowded me against the cool glass, his hips grinding against me, the rough feel of his belt against my skin made me wild. Even the thought that I was turning him on, despite his clothes still being on, almost made me combust.

I wanted to turn around and touch him, sink to my knees, and take out his cock, but he held me captive while he tweaked each nipple and bit at the skin at my shoulder, leaving what could only result in little love bites later. I squirmed and pushed against him.

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