“Are you done?” Conall snapped quietly.
“With you? Never, pet.” Sloan grinned at him.
His cock slid out of Conall as he stood, giving Sloan’s men a very clear view of Conall’s red and inflamed arsehole. He snatched up his pants, not bothering with his underwear.
“Aren’t you going to clean up your mess?” He gestured to the cum Conall had left on his suit.
“Where’s a cloth?” Conall asked.
Sloan clucked his tongue and shook his head. “With your tongue, pet.”
Conall glanced at the men in the room, pausing to stare at Fionn in particular. Sloan didn’t have to look at his nephew to know the face he was currently giving his pet. Whatever he struggled with inwardly was pushed aside because he puffed out his chest and fell on his knees in front of Sloan again. He licked at Sloan’s jacket, gathering the cum with the tip of his tongue before swallowing it. When he cleaned it up, he stood again, taking a step back.
Sloan’s lips curled gently as he tucked himself back in and zipped up his pants, careful to avoid any skin. “Thank you, pet. I do enjoy filling you.”
Conall stumbled further away with a glare and tugged up his jeans. He flipped Sloan off and stormed out of the room.
Donal snorted with laughter. “You have a feisty pet, Sloan. Better be careful, he might bite.”
Sloan’s stare slid to his old friend and he laughed. “I do enjoy his bites, especially when he’s angry.” He looked at Ronan. The soldier still had his head down and had yet to glance up at him. He obviously didn’t want to, and Sloan didn’t blame him. Sloan’s message was simple:stay away from my pet.
“Now you’re done making a point, boss, can we get back to work?” Lorcan asked with a roll of his eyes. He leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest, appearing displeased by the entire situation. Sloan’s father had asked Sloan to make Lorcan his chief advisor while he’d been on his death bed, and Sloan had done it out of respect for his dad, but he never did like Lorcan. He was the son of one of his father’s enforcers and mistress. Of course, Lorcan had no idea that Niall Killough fucked his mother. For all Sloan knew, Lorcan could have been his half-brother.
Donal ignored Lorcan. “Your pet’s a fine thing.”
“Yes, he is, but I only choose the best,” Sloan said. “But now I’ve proved my point, as Lorcan says, we do need to get down to the business at hand.”
“The Italian or the detective?” Jamie asked.
“Both. Have we heard anything about the Italian bastard?” Sloan raised his eyebrows at Ardan in the corner. He’d been quiet during the entire meeting, and only now took a step out of the shadows. His sudden appearance made Jamie jump.
“Shit, man. Don’t do that to me,” Jamie muttered, grabbing his chest.
Ardan’s mouth twisted in a half-amused smile. “You should be paying more attention. That’s where most of you fail. Not one of you except Sloan knew I was there, not even your soldier.” He waved an uninterested hand at Ronan, whose eyes widened.
“I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t—”
“He was too embarrassed by mine and my pet’s display,” Sloan interrupted.
It earned him a chuckle from Ardan. “Embarrassed or jealous?”
Everyone’s eyes turned on Ronan. Much to Sloan’s surprise, he didn’t back away from the looks. Instead he straightened his back.
“I gave the boss the privacy he deserves.”
“The boss doesn’t need privacy when you’re protecting him, Ronan.” Ardan shifted closer. Even though he was shorter than Ronan, he rivaled the other soldier through another type of power. Ardan’s gaze was vicious at the best of times, and he’d felled bigger men into pissing their pants by his calm yet deadly stare. “Do you understand?”
Ronan nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Good.” Ardan seemed happy with the answer because he turned back to Sloan and the generals. “I’ve made contact with Mancini, but he’s a snake in the grass. You grab a hold of him, and he slithers right out of your hands.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be the best?” Lorcan sneered. He leaned forward in his chair, elbows on his knees and hands clasped together. His smugness rubbed Sloan the wrong way, and the relaxation he’d felt from his recent orgasm dulled enough that he felt the slithers of irritation under his skin.
“Iamthe best,” Ardan said calmly. He didn’t need to raise his voice to make a point. “Unlike you, I do my job.”
Lorcan shot to his feet, taking two steps toward the assassin before he realized what he was doing. He paused before he reached Ardan. “If you did your job, we’d have an Italian to torture.”
Ardan smiled, small and deadly. “I do have an Italian, just not the one we want right now.”
