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Dylan pushes to his feet with the cast in hand. “Fine, but you better service the man now that he can shower without a plastic bag on his leg.”
“What he said,” Cian adds with a laugh.
Cian stands tentatively, testing if he can put his weight on his leg. When he deems he can, he smirks and wiggles his brows.
I only shake my head ruefully, turn my back on his antics, and head back to my office. I know he is following, as he runs commentary on my ass in my work outfit. We all decided I would wear shorts or my leather pants to work to avoid someone being murdered if they mistook me for one of the working girls rather than the manager.
The door to my office closes after I walk in, but Cian doesn’t engage the lock. No one will dare enter without knocking if the door is closed, unless it’s one of the guys. Tonight we are in the clear, as Ronan is off with Sullivan doing something I’m not privy to yet, and Darragh is with the girls until Reid arrives. Then he plans to swing by to convince me to do some self-defense.
We have switched training around to better fit our schedules. Much to Ronan’s disgust, we couldn’t make daily dinners, so now we have a once-a-week compulsory dinner we eat together as a family. Every time I think of the word family, my heart warms. Knowing I have one almost makes me want to cry.
In the bathroom attached to my office, I hear the water start, followed by Cian hollering that he has a surprise for me. I know exactly what his surprise is. And as I walk into the bathroom, let’s say I am not even slightly surprised to find his hard cock is in his hand as he slowly strokes it.
Kicking off my heels and unclipping my booty shorts, I’m left standing there in a see-through bodysuit. I’m glad it was Cian who came to work with me tonight—Ronan might have gone ballistic if he could see my nipples through the material, knowing other men could see them as well. Nudity comes naturally to me, and I have never been ashamed of my body. Men walk around shirtless every day and their nipples are not an issue, but because women’s are attached to some fatty lumps—small ones, in my case—it’s treated different.
“Fuck! You are breathtaking.”
His words make me smile. How weird is it? I know I’m attractive, but when these Irish bastards say it, I feel like preening like a damn fucking male peacock.
Slipping one strap over my shoulder, I smile at him. He motions with his finger for me to come closer, and I do. He is now close enough he can reach out and run his thumb over my erect nipple. The sensation has my eyes closing, and I only open them when I feel his other hand between my legs, unsnapping the buttons holding the bodysuit together.
“One-handed, baby,” he gloats. I slap his hand away and remove the bodysuit altogether. His eyes roam over my naked body. “Hmm, landing strip, that’s new.”
I chuckle. Yesterday was waxing day, and I wanted to try something different.
He grabs my arm and pulls me through the water, pressing the front of my body against the tiles. His lips kiss and nip at my skin as his hands slide down my waist and over the arch of my hips.
“Do you want to know what I dreamed about last night?” he asks with a lick up my neck, and I moan I do. “I fucked you and filled your little cunt with my cum. Then Darragh walked in, and I dropped to my knees and invited him to join us. He stormed into the room and pulled me to my feet by my hair and dragged me to the bed, where he laid us down and told you to come sit on his face so he could eat my cum from you while I sucked his cock for the first time.”
Fuck, yes. I know Darragh is a dick, but for the last month, we have mostly gotten along. I would even go as far as saying we are friends. Most people probably wouldn’t have forgiven him for what he did, and maybe I am making excuses, but he is a complicated man. He needed to see I’m not after their money or setting out to fuck them over like so many have in the past.
“That sounds hot,” I pant out as his cock presses against my hole, the tip pushing inside. My greedy cunt clenches, trying to suck him inside and needing him to move. I push my ass out and he places a hand on my lower back as he thrusts deep inside me, causing my walls to clamp around his cock. “Fuck, Cian, please fuck me!”
Everything with him is hard and fast. He fucks like he lives his life, and I’m completely here for it. I part my legs more so I can bend further, getting a better angle as he fucks me harder. The only thing between me and smashing my head against the tiles is my arm, but with each thrust, my head is forced against my forearm and the water beats down above us.
“Who does this sweet cunt belong to?”
“Right now, it belongs to you, so fuck me harder,” I beg. “Fuck me until I can’t stand.”
“And what happens to any man who touches what’s mine?”
“Oh, god,” I moan as my orgasm builds.
“Not God, but close. Now answer my question.”
Closing my eyes so I can center myself and stop from exploding all over his cock, I answer his question. “You will gut them and strangle them with their intestines,” I gasp out.
“You’re mine, Harper. Now come all over my cock and show me who you belong to.”
I do as he says, letting go of my orgasm and spasming around him. He knows now he has started this hedonistic pleasure, he has to finish it—and one won’t be enough.
“Cian!” I scream as he fills me, his cock jerking inside me.
After a few final thrusts, he steps back, and his cock sliding out of me has me feeling empty. I need more. Being able to hyperfocus on my own orgasms can be a blessing and a curse because to feel satisfied I need them back-to-back until I squirt, and he damn well knows it.
“Get that perfect ass out of the shower, then I want to see you laid out on your desk.”
His hand comes down on my ass, and the sting has my lady boner ready to blow as soon as she is shown attention. I almost want to put my hand between my legs to get my second orgasm going, but I don’t because I love to torture myself a little these days. Gone are the days of carrying toys in my handbag—what’s the point when there’s always a dick available?
