Sloan laughed and it made Conall’s heart soar. “Me too. I don’t work with traitors.”
“You’d think they’d learn a lesson by other’s misfortunes.” Conall wrapped his arms around Sloan’s neck and dragged him closer, their lips hovering near each other. He ignored the strange look Sloan gave him. “Seeing you deal with him was hot. So fucking hot.” To prove a point, he grabbed Sloan’s hand and put it on his hard cock, which had been thickening over the last fifteen minutes. Sloan hummed and slammed his lips against Conall’s, fucking his mouth as though it was his arse. Conall didn’t know how long they stayed there for, but Sloan dominated him, showed him who was boss through something as simple as a passionate kiss. Sloan grabbed his arse, kneading his cheeks and spreading them.
When they broke apart, Sloan laughed again. “If I’d known you’d get like this, pet, I would have brought you to work more often.”
“Why don’t you?” The question came out before Conall could stop it, and as much as he wanted to suck the words right back in, they were in the open now and he had to continue. He tampered down his anger the best he could. In a room full of guards, he didn’t want to lose his cool like he’d done before. Sloan would really punish him then. “Why have you suddenly banned me from business meetings?”
Sloan grabbed hold of his arms and took a step back. He frowned down at Conall, making the height difference a reminder of Sloan’s power over him. “I haven’t banned you from meetings, pet.”
“But you haven’t taken me, either.” Conall glanced away, but Sloan grasped his chin and made Conall look at him again.
“I didn’t realize you wanted to come, pet. I thought they bored you.”
“When have I ever said they bored me?”
Ronan shifted, striding past them to help the other guards. Conall thought maybe he wanted to give them privacy, and he hated that. He hated being alone with Sloan right now. It was on the tip of his tongue and all he had to do was tell Sloan what he really thought, but he felt like a coward when the words got stuck on his tongue.
“Pet, I’m many things, but I’m not a mind reader.” Sloan stroked up his jaw and over his cheekbone. “Talk to me.”
It was so easy. All he had to do was say the words. Tell Sloan he wanted to be part of his life, but it was also fucking hard too. As much as he tried, he couldn’t make himself say it. Conall took a step away from Sloan, out of his reach. “I’m not bored of them.” That’s all he said before he walked past Sloan and out the door.
He heard footsteps behind him and then Sloan grabbed him, spinning him around. “No, pet. You don’t get to walk away. Come with me.”
He didn’t give Conall a chance to say no. Sloan dragged him through the wide hallways and rich architecture of the home and straight to the stairs, the same ones they’d been up before. When he led Conall to his room—their room—and threw him inside, Conall spun on him and pointed at Sloan.
“I’m not a toy for you to drag around.”
“Then stop running off like a child.” Sloan got into his face and gripped his wrist so tightly that it hurt. “I’m not going to allow this anymore, Conall. I’ve given you a chance to talk to me, and you haven’t. You won’t. Now I need to take this into my own hands.”
Conall laughed. “What are you going to do?”
Sloan’s smirk made Conall’s eyes widen and he swallowed around the lump of fear in his throat. “What any mob boss should. Punish.”
“Sloan—” Fear clouded his gaze.
“Drop your pants and sit on the bed.” His voice left no room to argue, but Conall didn’t want to. Excitement chased through him and he sucked in a deep breath to stop himself from whimpering and begging Sloan to fuck him. He hadn’t touched Conall’s hole since they’d arrived in Miami, and even though Conall had taken Sloan’s load into his mouth like a good pet, he felt like he’d received nothing in return. But it was his punishment, or so Sloan said. And Conall hated this kind of punishment.
Conall did as he was ordered, unbuckling the belt of his tight jeans and shoving them down his legs with his underwear. Then he sat on the edge of the mattress, eyeing Sloan carefully. What would he do next?
“You are going to have to learn to talk to me about what troubles you, Conall.”
His real name startled him and he tasted bile on his tongue. He hated when Sloan called him that. It meant he was either angry—or disappointed.
Sloan opened the drawer and pulled out the cock ring again, red and thick, and slid it on Conall’s cock. He nearly groaned in disappointment. He wanted, no, heneededto come. But then Sloan went to his knees in front of Conall, and Conall’s world tilted on its axis. Sloan very rarely did this. The position was too vulnerable for the boss of the Killough Company.
He laid his hands on Conall’s knees and kissed each kneecap. “I need you to be honest with me. Do you blame me for your kidnapping?”
“What?” Shock electrocuted him into rearing back and his tongue somehow felt lighter. “No, of course not.”
“Are you sure?” Sloan stroked Conall’s cock, light touches that felt like a feather against his hot and hardening flesh. He pushed Conall back on the bed. “Because your anger at me says otherwise.”
“Not everything has to be about Toscani and what he did to me.” He couldn’t resist touching Sloan, running his fingers through his soft blond hair and scraping his nails along his scalp. “He was an arsehole, a dead one.”
Sloan made a noise of amusement. “Yes, he is.”
“You killed him. It has nothing to do with him and I don’t know where you got that idea from.”
“Where do you think?” He spat in his hand and wrapped his hand around Conall’s cock, jerking it slowly, but with enough pressure to make Conall’s head spin. “You don’t talk to me and then you’re hot and cold with our relationship.”
