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.
“Baby, I got away with not talking to Lachlan this weekend because I agreed to dinner with him tonight.”
“I want you here.”
“Are you staying here?” she asked.
Niall showing up with news often led to Connel being imminently busy.
“Strat will drive you.”
“What will Lach say to that?”
“Sell him the story line,” he said, ducking to kiss her. “Your genius plan.”
That he hadn’t been wild about when she mentioned it. “So I can say it’s your car, your driver…” her smile got playful yet saucy, “that I’m studying you?”
Rather than another kiss, he grabbed her to spin her around and pin her to the door. His head rested on hers and he growled before crouching to hook her thighs and pick her up.
“I want you back here within the hour,” he said as her legs coiled around him.
“Dinner takes more than an hour,” she said, her words becoming breathy when his lips explored her throat and her fingers tangled in his hair. “Conn… baby…”
He boosted her higher, burying his face in her cleavage. “Should tie you down,” he mumbled.
Niall might be right on the other side of the door. She didn’t care. They’d done it everywhere else, the desk, the couch, the rug.
“I need your cock,” she groaned on an exhale, grinding against his hard body as he rubbed his rough stubble against her sensitive breasts.
“You’ve got me hooked,” he growled, kissing her nipple then dragging his teeth against her. “Fucking addicted.”
“Conn…” she gasped when he sucked so hard, she could feel a bruise form. “Sink into me.”
“Fucking cheap crack whore.”
Curling her fingers, she tugged hard on his hair. “Hey!” she said, smiling at his drowsy eyes. “What did you call me?”
In his defense, he looked high. Maybe she did too.
“Me, baby,” he said, letting her slide down so he could kiss her lips. “I’m the crack whore.”
“And I’m the crack?” she asked, laughing as she sought his kiss. “You have been easy all weekend, whoring yourself with me.”
“You taught me easy, baby,” he said, turning so fast, she had to loop her arms around him to steady herself.
“We’re not going out?”
“You want to go to your brother covered in me?” he asked, carrying her up the stairs. “I don’t mind sending McLeod a message.”
“Send this McLeod a message,” she said, nuzzling his neck. “Sink into me, McDade…” Her fingers kept combing into his hair as she spoiled him with short kisses. “My McDade.”
He took them into the shower and turned on the water before putting her on her feet.
“Wait here.”
When he tried to leave, she caught his wrist. “Shower with me.”
“We need another rubber.”
Thank God he got them wholesale. He left her there, slipping off his underwear as he went. She shirked the shirt and tossed it over the top of the screen.
More rubbers. More sex. Would it ever be enough?