Page 60 of Irish Throne

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“Get to Finn O’Leary,” I tell Quint sharply. “Once you’re cleaned up here. And bag that head up. Take as many men as you need, but get Finn and make sure he’s locked up tight—don’t bang him up more than necessary, though,” I warn. “I want him in decent shape when we drag him in front of the Kings.”

“You got it, boss,” Quint says, and Jacob nods.

“We’ll take care of it,” he echoes. “You get home and rest that injury. You’re going to need to be on top of your game to take care of the Kings.”

I know he’s not wrong. But I’m eager for that final confrontation. Very soon, this will all be over.

From here on out, Liam and I are doing thingsourway.

23

CONNOR

Saoirse is waiting for me when I get home just before dark, curled up on our bed with a soft-looking throw blanket tucked over her knees and a book in hand. She sets it down when she sees me come through the door, a relieved smile spreading across her face.

“I’m glad you’re back,” she says softly.

“It’s nice hearing that.” I come to sit on the bed next to her, resting my hand on her knee, and she tilts her head back as she looks at me.

“I’ve often been glad to see you,” Saoirse says ruefully. “I just couldn’t always tell you. I was too afraid of the rejection.”

I reach out, touching her chin as I stroke my fingers up her jawline, along her cheekbone, enjoying the simple pleasure of touching my wife. “You don’t have to be afraid of that anymore, I promise you. I’ll make sure you never worry that I’ll reject you again.”

“I know of a good way to start.” Saoirse turns towards me, pushing herself up on her knees as she takes my face in her hands, leaning down to kiss me. “It’s been too long.”

“Agreed,” I groan as I lean back against the mound of pillows on our bed, sinking back into them with relief as she swings one leg over me, straddling my lap.

“You just lay back,” she says with a grin as her lips brush over mine. “I’ll take care of you.”

“Fuck, that sounds like heaven.” I wince at the pain in my shoulder as I reach for her hips, but I can’t resist touching her. I’m already rock-hard just from how close she is, the scent of her warm skin and perfume filling my nostrils as she kisses me again, harder this time. Her tongue slips between my lips, caressing mine as she lightly grinds against me, smiling against my mouth as she feels how hard I am for her.

“I can suck your cock for you, if you like,” she teases me, and I tip my head back with an anticipatory groan as her mouth trails down my throat.

“I should wash up first.” There’s still blood spattered on my skin in places—my hands, my shirt—forgotten in my eagerness to see her, but Saoirse shakes her head.

“I don’t care,” she murmurs, and I feel another pulse of desire at that.

“Fuck, I love you.” I squeeze her hips harder as she unbuttons my shirt, stripping off the blood-stained fabric and throwing it aside. “You’re fucking incredible—”

“I’m not scared of a little blood.” Saoirse kisses my chest, deftly avoiding the skin that isn’t clean. “You did this for us,” she murmurs, tapping one bloodstain with her finger. “You’d tear apart anyone who threatened us, and I know it. And I knowexactlywhat a husband like that deserves.”

I don’t think I’ve ever been so hard in my entire life. Saoirse strips off my pants, her hands yanking them and my boxers down eagerly, her mouth on my swollen, aching cockhead before I even have a chance to try to guide it there. Her hand wraps around my shaft, stroking me as she sucks me just the way she knows I like. Her tongue teases the soft flesh beneath the head as her lips rub over it. Then she slides lower, her bright green eyes rolling up to look at me as she takes me further down her throat, inch by inch, until my hand is wrapped in her hair, the blood on my skin forgotten.

We’ll shower after.

She feels so fucking good, her hot, wet mouth sucking at my cock, swallowing me, her free hand sliding between my legs to cup my tight balls. Her fingers stroke the taut flesh, leaving me arching upwards on the bed, thrusting myself deeper into her throat.

“Figure out whether you want me to come in your mouth or your pussy,” I groan after just a few minutes of her sucking and licking, my desire strained to the breaking point of so long without having her. “Because either way, Saoirse, I’m going to come in you very soon.”

Her lips stretch in a smile around my aching, throbbing length. She slides her mouth off of my cock with a final, excruciatingly pleasurable sucking motion right at the tip, her tongue fluttering beneath before she strips off her own leggings, yanking her t-shirt over her head so I can see her bare breasts. She goes to strip off her panties next, but I grab her, pulling her astride me again and yanking the fabric aside as I plunge two fingers into her dripping pussy.

“I can’t wait any longer,” I groan. “Just fucking sit on my cock, Saoirse. I need to be inside of you.”

She rides my hand for a moment, her head tipping back and her eyes closing with a look of pure bliss, her mouth opening on a moan as my thumb rubs her clit. The next instant, she pulls away, holding her panties out of the way as she guides my cockhead to her entrance, sliding down onto my wet shaft in one long, slow glide that leaves me groaning with pleasure as my fingertips dig into the soft flesh of her hips.

“I’m not going to last long,” I moan, sinking back into the pillows as she rides me, and Saoirse lets out a gasp of pleasure.

“That’s alright,” she manages breathlessly. “I’m about to come, too.”


Tags: M. James Thriller