Page 31 of Forbidden Want

“And when we’re done,” he said, tossing the crop aside to stroll around her.

With her ankles locked, she feared pushing too far either way in case she fell from the bench. But she wanted to see him, to know where he’d gone. She closed her eyes when he caressed her ass, stroking her with a delicate touch he wasn’t known for. When his lips touched her butt, right at the sorest point, she smiled.

“Sir,” she said on an exhale.

“I’m gonna take care of you,” he said, still smoothing his rough fingers across her flesh. “Real good care of you.”

TWELVE

THEIR PLEASURE DIDN’T end in that playroom. It didn’t end that night. It kept going, hour after hour, day after day. Right there in Stag, in their own private bubble, occupied by them and no one else.

“C—Conn—Connel!” she screamed for him, her whole body locked in an arch, every muscle strained, frozen in orgasmic pleasure.

Pounding on the office door shattered the passion too soon.

“Boss!” someone shouted through the door. No, not someone, Niall. “Ire!”

“Shit,” Connel barked, slamming a hand to the floor. “How many fucking times…!”

Laying her hands on his shoulders, they moved to soothe him as he sat up.

“Control,” she whispered.

“What?” he snapped at the door. So much for control. “What the fuck do you want? We’re busy!”

“Got the worm,” Niall said.

Connel pounced to his feet, pulling off the condom. “Two minutes,” he said and disappeared through the curtain to go upstairs.

She was happy to stay there on the rug in the middle of his office.

The locked door Niall was behind had been that way for days. Locked. Two or three at least. She didn’t know and couldn’t care. They had everything they needed. Bed. Booze. The playroom. He’d told her pleasure would be the only rule and fuck, she wasn’t sure how much more she could take… although…

Her palms grazed her nipples, rasping the sensitive, tortured peaks. They’d been pampered and spoiled by him, the man who’d taught her about pleasure in so many wonderful ways.

Something landed on her face. Fabric.

“Put that on,” Connel said as she sat up to untwine the apparel. Though he only wore boxer-briefs, the barrier was disappointing. “You don’t cover that body, I’ll be inside it again, witnesses or not.”

Even his casual comments aroused her. She put her arms in the sleeves and closed the material over her body before he opened the door.

Niall tried to step in, but Connel blocked him with an arm on the doorframe. Surprise registered on Niall’s expression when it landed on her.

She opened a hand in a wave, still holding the two sides of her shirt in one fist.

“What is it?” Connel demanded of his number two.

“Club’s opening,” Niall said. “We’ve got an eyeball on him.”

“The club’s opening? Stag?” she asked, processing his words. “Is it Monday?”

“Aye,” Niall said.

She scrambled to her feet. “Damnit.”

“Stay there,” Connel said, using the closure of the door to push his underling out. “Where d’you think you’re going?”

When she went to him and laid a hand on his torso, she boosted onto her tiptoes for a kiss, but he didn’t come down to meet her.

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