Page 23 of Connor's Claim
My orgasm closed in like a train thundering down a track, all the stronger for his gaze on me and the powerful vibrations thrilling my insides. I whimpered and brushed over my clit with my fingertips, once, twice…
Pleasure broke inside me as an explosion. It crashed into every part I hadn’t touched, and I gasped. Killed the vibrations. Throbbed around the intrusion and wished it was him so he could feel it, too.
Pretending wasn’t enough.
The climax eased, and I breathed out, blinking in the damp air. Braced against the bathroom wall, Connor had his jeans open and his dick in his hand. He fucked his fist, staring right at me.
Lust drowned me again, my pussy pulsing in response.
Then I spotted something unexpected. The glint of a silver ring at the end of his dick.
God. He’d got a piercing?
I pushed the vibrator back in, slowly, teasing, as much for him as me this time. With my eyes wide open, it felt so exposing but at the same time liberating. I wanted him to be holding it, or better still, fucking me. I wanted to know how that piercing felt inside me.
With a groan, Connor came, cum shooting over his fingers and onto the bathroom tiles. I branded the sight in my brain. His rigid arms, those pronounced muscles, how he stared at me.
Connor exhaled, not hiding a smirk. Then he washed up, tucked himself away, and tossed a towel over the mess on the floor. With a final glance, and his tongue in his cheek, he left the bathroom, calling over his shoulder, “Better hurry. Ye don’t want to be late for work.”
Alone again, I sagged, my pulse speeding like it wanted to break me. In brisk actions, I finished washing then bundled myself up in a towel and set about getting ready for the day. In the bedroom, he was absent, so I dressed in the sexy lingerie he brought me and my smart dress, covering my arms with my blazer.
In my head, a hundred thoughts combined, shame one of them, but also a thrill I couldn’t deny. What we’d done had made me bold.
Once I was ready, makeup on and my work bag packed, I scooped up the ruined camisole and exited the bedroom with it. Connor was sprawled on the sofa, a knife in his hand that I had no business getting a buzz of excitement from. I extended the ruined item of clothing on my fingers.
“You owe me new nightclothes.”
His gaze flared at the challenge, then he gave an easy shrug and gestured with his head to the kitchen. “Grab your breakfast and we’ll go.”
On the kitchen counter, a travel mug waited with a selection of cereal bars next to it. Beyond, the fruit bowl was now filled, and packets waited to be put away. He’d gone shopping during the night.
I had no idea what to do with that fact aside from take the offering.
In silence, we descended in the warehouse’s lift and left the building by the rear exit into the lower car park. Connor directed me to a big, black vehicle with a menacing metal grille at the front. He got us going, and I cracked the window to help escape his addictive scent.
The fresh air woke up my brain. I had a long day ahead of me. A conference at the town hall with all of the councillors plus industry leaders and heads of charities. My father should have been back to attend, but he would only have come in to do the opening speech, so we could cope without him.
I had another, secret objective.
My second conversation with Genevieve on the roof had been carried out under the shelter of an umbrella she’d brought, September rain hastening our words. Cassie had been absent this time, but Genevieve gave over such startling information, I’d struggled to process it. Though she didn’t yet have information for me, she shared how they’d been investigating the death of the two women killed in Deadwater, and their suspects list included some of the councillors.
Men I’d be seeing today.
Like Father, many of the councillors used sex workers, and I knew this for a fact because they had done so in my home. Parties where the only women present were employed for theirbodies were common enough, and I’d seen a number of the councillors in the act.
But that didn’t make them killers.
I’d promised I’d do some digging, but the idea made me nervous, and I clutched my bag on my lap, white-knuckled and distracted. We pulled up outside of Town Hall, and I gazed up at the impressive and official-looking grey stone building with its rows of windows behind which people worked managing the city. It was early, but people were here throughout the night dealing with emergencies and providing twenty-four-hour services, so the place was never empty.
I had a desk in the mayoral suite, which was above the tall stone columns marking the entryway. On the roof, a flag fluttered on a high mast, the sky brightening behind it, though clouds threatened rain. Today, I’d be in one of the huge conference rooms on the ground floor.
Not for the first time, I didn’t want to go inside.
A touch on my arm dragged my attention back to the present. I peeked around, and Connor drew his warm hand away. An almost magnetic pull urged me to follow the contact. I resisted.
“Don’t leave the building, and don’t stray from the public spaces. Stay visible and you’ll be safe.”
He meant from the gang that was chasing me. In my panic, I’d almost forgotten about them. There was no way they’d raid the centre of Deadwater’s local government to spirit me away.