Page 57

“So fucking big,” he breathes, rocking his hips again.

I let him control how much he takes at first, resisting the urge to drive forward while his body adjusts around me. Each slow movement brings me deeper until his ass finally meets my hips and I’m buried completely inside him. The tight heat surrounding my cock nearly destroys what remains of my control, but I stay still, giving him as much time as he needs.

Nash looks back at me. “Move. Fuck me, Daddy.”

I grip his hips and pull almost all the way out before thrusting back inside. His moan fills the bedroom as he pushes back to meet me, and the next thrust is harder. I find a rhythm with him, watching his body move beneath mine while my fingers dig into his hips. Every time I drive forward, his ass meets me, taking everything I give him.

He turns his head to look at me over his shoulder, his lips parted and his face flushed. I want more than the view of his back and ass. I want to watch him when I make him come.

I pull out and turn him onto his back. Nash reaches for me immediately, dragging me closer as I move between his legs. I hook my arms beneath his knees and push them back before guiding my cock inside him again. His body opens for me more easily this time, and when I change the angle and drive against his prostate, his back arches from the mattress.

“Fuck! Daddy, do that again.”

I do, thrusting into the same spot until his hands fist in the bedding and his cock jerks against his stomach. I wrap my hand around him, spreading the precum over the head before stroking down his shaft in time with my hips. Nash clenches around me so hard that I have to slow for a second to keep from coming before I’m ready.

“Daddy, I’m so fucking close.”

“Look at me.”

His eyes find mine as I tighten my hand around his cock and drive into him again. I want him watching me when I give him what he’s been begging for.

“Come for me, boy.”

Nash breaks beneath me. His body tightens as cum spills over my hand and across his stomach, his mouth falling open on a rough moan while I keep fucking him through it. His ass clenches around my cock with every pulse, dragging me closer until there’s no holding back.

I keep my eyes on his as my orgasm hits, burying myself deep and holding him there while pleasure tears through me. My hips jerk against him, and Nash wraps his legs around my waist as though he doesn’t want me going anywhere. I stay inside him until the last of it passes, my breathing as rough as his while his hands move from the sheets to my back.

When I finally lower myself over him, I keep enough of my weight on my arms not to crush him. Nash pulls me down the rest of the way and slides his fingers into my hair, opening beneath my kiss as if he still hasn’t had enough of me. I haven’t had enough of him either.

“No one else touches you. You’re mine.”

Nash is still breathing hard when he slides his hand into my hair and gives me a tired smile. “Yours. And you’re mine.”

“Aye, A Sholas. Le m’anam ar fad.” I brush my mouth over his, staying close when I translate it for him. “With all of my soul, I am yours.”

I remain over him until my breathing slows, kissing him between softer touches while the tension gradually leaves his body. When I finally soften enough to pull out, Nash is already fighting sleep. I dispose of the condom and bring back a warm washcloth, cleaning the mess from his stomach and between his thighs before wiping myself down. He barely opens his eyes while I take care of him, but when I get back into bed, he immediately moves toward me and fits himself against my chest. I wrap both arms around him, and it doesn’t take long before I fall asleep with his body tucked against mine.

My phone wakes me sometime later. Nash makes an irritated sound and burrows closer, throwing an arm across my waist while something suspiciously close to “fuck off” comes out muffled against my chest. I would happily ignore whoever is calling and go back to sleep with him, but the phone starts ringing again before his breathing has fully evened out.

The clock reads six-thirty. Very few people would call me this early, and none of them would do it without a reason.

I ease myself out from beneath Nash’s arm, and he immediately grabs my pillow and pulls it against his chest in my place. Kieran’s name is on the screen when I answer and step out of the bedroom.

“You need to turn on the news.”

Something in his voice has me reaching for my boxers as I head downstairs. “What happened?”

“Turn it on.”

I switch on the television and find a local station already in the middle of a breaking news report.

“…the plaintiffs have not been publicly identified but are being represented by Hargrove and Associates. The firm released a statement earlier this morning regarding allegations against Murphy Enterprises CEO Duncan Murphy.”

The screen changes to an older, balding man seated behind an oversized mahogany desk, his expression carefully arranged for the camera.

“We have been retained by several women formerly employed by Murphy Enterprises. Sexual assault and harassment should never be tolerated, regardless of the wealth or influence of the accused. Duncan Murphy will be held accountable, and I have promised my clients that we will do everything within our power to see that justice is served.”

He finishes by slamming his fist against the desk, apparently deciding the accusation needs a visual aid. Under different circumstances, the performance might be amusing. Being the man he’s accusing of sexually assaulting women I don’t even know makes it a lot less funny.