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17

CONOR

After dropping Troy off at the brownstone next to Finn and Aoife’s place, we headed inside to ask Finn to loop us in on updates about Dagda.

Aoife had brownies fresh out of the oven so, of course, we had to eat those after she offered us the guest shower to clean up thanks to the grimy work of a makeshift undertaker.

With me borrowing some of Finn’s sweats and a hoodie and Star doing the same with Aoife’s clothes, we left our gear with my brother so he could see to them being incinerated.

Afterward, we talked about Dagda’s current status, ate some of their leftovers too, and it was while we were eating that Star received a text that immediately soured her mood.

She didn’t exactly turn sullen, just went quiet.

Knowing how private she was, I didn’t push the conversation but wound things with my brother and sister down and got us out of there.

After she settled in the passenger seat and I was backing up the tank of a car that felt and maneuvered like it weighed a thousand tons, I asked, “Who texted you?”

I half expected her not to answer, but she mumbled, “Reggie.”

Concern hit me because I knew her ex-CO was currently on guard duty. “Is Minerva hurt?”

“No. Not aside from being heartbroken.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “The funeral’s on Tuesday.”

I whistled under my breath. “That’s fast.”

“That’s the Four Horsemen for you. They look after their people. Reggie just told me she was asked to stand down. That the Four will be watching over her from now on.” She heaved a sigh. “I want to attend.”

“Then we’ll attend,” I replied, even as I tried to catalog what I knew of the Four Horsemen.

“You don’t think it’s a bad idea?”

“Probably, but you want to see her off, don’t you? Say goodbye?

“We don’t have to stand at the front, Star. We can be at the back. It’s not about making waves but saying goodbye to a person who supported you when you were in trouble.”

“Minnie won’t see it that way.”

“Then she won’t see it that way. She’ll curse at you and shout, and maybe that’s what she needs to feel better. I think you can handle an argument.”

She snorted. “Maybe.”

“More than maybe. More like definitely.”

“If it makes her feel better.”

I grunted. “It would. I’d have liked to shout at you a few times during Da’s funeral.”

Her swallow was audible. “I’m sorry, Conor.”

For the first time, I felt like she actually meant it. Maybe not because of what she’d done, but because it had affected me.

“Thank you, Star,” I said, accepting the apology and not dismissing it. “Call your grandfather and ask to use his jet. I’m still technically on the NSA’s leash.”

She didn’t call him but sent an email and received confirmation of the flight by the time we parked in the garage at my building.

I was used to having an in with people, what with Da’s ties to the head of the FBI—even if that link had been no help with my NSA situation—but I had to admit that Kuznetsov was on a whole other level.

His fingers dipped into Interpol? Shady NATO operations? Homeland Security?

He was seriously becoming my favorite person after Star.

When we made it home, I started toward our office, but in the doorway, she grabbed my hand and tugged me to a halt.

I stared down at her with an arched brow.

“What am I to you?”

That had me frowning. “Aside from a pain in my ass?”

Her lips quirked. “You know I can put you on that pained ass in less than two moves, don’t you?”

“I like to live dangerously,” was my retort.

“Evidently.” A spark had come to life in her eyes though. “You know what I mean.”

“I guess,” I drawled. “But it isn’t what you are to me; it’s what you think you are to me.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means you’re my penguin.”

“We’re not back to penguins, are we? I keep expecting Benedict Cumberbatch to start narrating our lives whenever you bring them up.”

I grinned. “I could probably arrange for that to happen.”

“You’re rich, but are you that rich?”

“Everyone has a price.”

“Benedict Cumberbatch doesn’t,” she mocked.

“Anyway, of course, we’re back to penguins. That’s what it boils down to, isn’t it?” My lips twitched. “Though I guess in that phrase, you should be glad I don’t call you ‘my lobster.’”

Her eyeroll was borderline painful. “So, on official documents, you’d put Star Sullivan down as ‘your penguin?’”

“Not sure the government is that forward-thinking yet. But between you and me? Sure. If you want to make things more simple by calling me your boyfriend or your fiancé, then that’s boring, but I’ll accept those adjectives.”

“They’re labels, not adjectives. And I’m a boring person.”

“You are when it comes to labels .” My grin deepened. “What am I to you, then?”

Her eyes were back to twinkling. “That’s for me to know and for you not to find out.”

“Hey! That’s not fair,” I grumbled, but I used her hold on my hand to drag her into me. In one of my smoother moves, I twisted her around so that I could loom over her. “Fair’s fair, Star Sullivan.”

Her grin was pure arrogance. “Thought nothing was fair in love and war?”

“Which are we in?”

“Love, of course. We did the war part already.”

“I guess we did. And we did it damn well.” I tipped my head forward and ran my lips along the high curve of her cheekbone. “Did you imagine when you rammed into my code that you’d end up here?”

“Pinned between a door and a coat rack? Nope.”

I reared back to point at my tree. “It’s a tree. Not a coat rack.”

“Can’t it be both?”

“No. If you hang coats on it, you won’t see the branches.”

“So passionate.”

“I’m a passionate person,” I retorted.

“I’d never have guessed.” She angled onto her tiptoes, reminding me again that this was the only way in which Star was diminutive in comparison to me—I had a good four inches on her—and she let our lips brush. “You have weird taste, Conor O’Donnelly.”

“I have great taste,” I retorted. “In women and interior design.”

She snorted but rocked back and forth until my lips parted. As her tongue speared a path into my mouth, I let her take the lead, knowing that was her comfort zone.

She kissed me with a gentleness that took me by surprise. Not pouncing on me, just tasting. Just… savoring.

The notion had me retreating as I pressed my forehead against hers. “What’s wrong?”

Her brow furrowed. “Nothing.” She tried to kiss me again but I held my position and kept my mouth at a distance from hers.

“You’ve been weird since we drove back from the Catskills and I know it has nothing to do with torture.”

She pouted. “It could. I have a conscience.”

“Do you?” I smirked. “Could have fooled me.”

Star shoved my shoulder. “Shut up.”

“Why? You like my mouth when it moves, don’t you?”

“Yeah, and I don’t know why.”

“Because it keeps you in line?”

“Ha. Right. You believe that if it makes you feel better.”

I grinned. “It makes me feel incredible.”

She rolled her eyes. “I just… I realized I was lucky.”

“Why?” It kind of boggled my mind that she considered herself lucky, what with everything that had happened to her in the past.

“Because if I were you, I’d hate me, but you don’t.” Her voice was small. “I-I don’t want to lose you, Conor.”

Whatever I’d expected her to say, it wasn’t that. “Everything I talked about on the ride over, it wasn’t to make you feel bad.”

“The truth hurts,” was her only comment.

“It does,” I agreed. “But it wasn’t to make you feel shitty. You know that, don’t you?”

“I do. I think that’s what brought me to that realization though. If I were you, I’d have me in your crosshairs by now. I wouldn’t be kissing you.”

“Then we’re fortunate that I’m a more generous person than you, aren’t we?”

She huffed and angled her head to the side, disconnecting us. “Stop joking around.”

“I’m not,” I countered calmly.

“I-I think I know what you want when you talk about atonement.” She bit her lip. “And it makes me feel weird.”

I let our foreheads kiss again. “What makes you feel weird?”

“I know that I could have lost you.” Her chin trembled and that vulnerable gesture paved a path directly to my heart. Star wasn’t one for emotional displays like that, small as it might be. “I-I never want to lose you, Conor,” she repeated, and I believed her.

I really, genuinely did.

I fought the urge to make everything better, to soft-soap this so she didn’t worry, and, instead, went with the truth. “Why didn’t you just come to me, Star? We could have worked things out together.”

She released a heavy breath and I knew, knew , that she truly did understand what I meant when I talked about atonement.

It wasn’t something as simple as her saying ‘I’m sorry.’ Nor was it a matter of time healing all wounds.

It was an attitude shift for her.

That was the only apology I’d accept.

No more acting like she was an island. No more making decisions on her own without conferring with me.

We were a team.

Nothing less would do.

“I needed to draw Dagda out. Only prime bait would work. I knew you’d make me choose a different path and I…” She scrunched up her eyes. “God, I wanted him gone, Conor. I had blinders on.

“My to-kill list is a mile long, and no matter what happened to me, once I knew he was behind her death, he was always at the top of my most-wanted list.

"After you killed Michael, I realized what part the First Lady played in everything and I knew I had an in. Your father was collateral damage, I guess.

“I didn’t like him, didn’t like what he did to you, didn’t even approve of how he treated your brothers, so I guess I just reasoned it in my head that none of you would care that much.” She swallowed. “Then I saw you in the graveyard.”

I tensed. “You were still watching?”

“Cin tried to get me to leave, but… I just couldn’t.” She closed her eyes. “I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again and I couldn’t go, not when…”

I thought back to that day and the memory alone was enough to make me lock down.

I’d been the one to alert my brothers to a meeting between the First Lady and our da in Green-Wood Cemetery. I’d been in Jersey, West Orange to be precise, trying to find more intel on Star’s disappearance, but even though I’d raced to Brooklyn, I’d been too late.

He’d died with my brothers around him, but I had been too fucking late.

“I’ll never understand why you do the things you do,” I rasped. “But I got an insight into it today because of Troy.”

After what her soldier buddy had shared, I believed I knew her better. Understood her more than ever before.

Her jaw worked. “If you rely on yourself, the only person who can let you down is you, and the only person to blame is you. I prefer…” She paused. “ Preferred that.”

“Nice catch,” I praised, which made her shoot me an apologetic smile.

“Old habits die hard but you’re right, Conor. There’s no point in doing this if I act as if I’m on my own still.” She sucked in a breath. “Do you want to know something terrible?”

“Hit me with it.” Then I braced myself for what she considered terrible…

“When I saw how I’d hurt you, that was when I knew how much I loved you because I hurt with you. I was the reason for the pain, and…” Misery flashed over her expression. “It was another reason to cut myself out of your life.

“I’m cancer, Conor. I wanted to save you from that. Spare you from me. Maybe Kat too. By that point, I didn’t even know if I’d make it back alive, and a part of me hoped that for your sakes, I didn’t.”

“Do you want to know why I don’t hate you?”

Her brow furrowed but her answer was simple. “Yes.”

“Because I couldn’t hate you any more than you hate yourself.”

A sharp breath escaped her, one that was so raw, so deep, so filled with agony that I knew it came from her soul—not her lungs. Her very soul.

Tears flooded her eyes and as she closed them, shielding those beautiful crystalline orbs from me, they dripped tracks down her cheeks.

“My relationship with my father was unusual. My grief for him was too. Does it hurt that you were behind his death? Yes. But it took me a while to realize that he’s been trying to die for a while.” My gaze was unfocused as my thumb slipped along the tear track on her silken skin. “When they set fire to the cathedral two Christmases ago, he and Ma tried to kill themselves.”

“What?!”

“They’d just found out what happened to me. I didn’t uncover this until later when I overheard a conversation between Aidan and Da.” My thumb continued its soft movements along the arc of her cheek. “They’d tortured the archbishop and his ultimate punishment was being burned to death in his own parish.” My mouth twisted. “They were going to end it too, though.”

“Hardened Catholics willing to kill themselves?”

“Easier to end it than deal with me, I guess.”

She shoved my shoulder. “Don’t you dare say that.”

“What am I supposed to think? Aidan and Finn had to drag them out of the cathedral, Star. Physically lift them out. Aidan’s knee was fucked back then too. I’m not sure how all their asses weren’t cremated.” I shook my head. “I should have known that I…”

“That you, what?” she whispered.

“It wouldn’t just be guilt over what happened to me that’d be the reason he wanted to end things. It made sense once I found out he had ALS.” I tucked my chin into my chest. “It’s not that I wanted him to feel so devastated over what happened to me that he’d kill himself, but I just… I knew it’d be about him. It always was.

“He wasn’t a normal father, and we weren’t normal sons. At the graveyard, the son in me mourned the loss of his father, but then I remembered what he was.”

“Your general,” she whispered.

That hurt to hear. It hurt, even more, to admit, “Yes. We were just soldiers to him.”

“Do you feel the same way about your ma?”

“No. She loves us. She’s weak, but aren’t all humans?”

“True.”

“I had proof of that love when I saw what happened after Aoife cut her off. It hurts her. Physically hurts her.”

“Maybe that’s a wound time will heal?”

“I doubt it. Aoife’s angry. Rightfully so. Why do you think my brothers have rallied around her? Because of their wives?” I scoffed. “They’re whipped, but not that whipped.

"They know what Ma did was wrong, they know that they’d do exactly the same as Da did for their women, so they made adjustments…”

She reached up and slipped her hand around my nape. Using that as a support, she pulled me down until our foreheads could touch again. “Why did you lie to Troy about that tonight?”

“No one else outside of the inner circle knows the truth.”

“I’m in the inner circle?”

“You sound surprised.”

“I am. I’m…”

“ Cancer . I remember. Luckily for you, we have great treatments out there nowadays.” I hummed. “Of course, you’re inner circle. You wear my ring, don’t you?”

“I do.”

I wanted to hear her say those words in front of a priest.

Until then...

“Don’t cut me out, Star. Don’t make plans on your own. Don’t act like you’re a team of one. I’m with you on this. One hundred percent.

"Whether it’s regarding the Sparrows or things that come up in the course of a long life together?—”

“Teamwork makes the dream work?”

My lips twitched. “Exactly.”

She angled her head and this time, I let our mouths collide. When she slipped her tongue around the soft lines of mine, I permitted her entry and didn’t even tense when her fingers slipped through my hair.

They were her fingers.

This was my Star.

I’d been waiting for her for fucking years—now that I had her, not even she would keep us apart.

I didn’t fuck around, didn’t want this to be slow. I wanted us to reconnect and that wasn’t gentle—it was power. We were power. Together, we could make the world burn or we could douse the flames.

I shoved at the waistband of her borrowed sweats, sliding my hand beneath the elastic so that I could delve between her legs.

She sighed into my mouth as I found her slit and started to trace my fingertips over her clit. She was warm but dry, so I was careful as I stroked the nub, my mouth doing most of the legwork to get her hot.

Her moan as I took over the kiss was everything . Each of my nerve endings felt the aftermath of it as I thrust into her mouth, taking her there like I’d take her later.

As her nails dug into my scalp, the tips, short but not blunt, shaped into a slight tip, were a reminder of who exactly was touching me.

Star.

Mine.

They dragged over the sensitive flesh, making goose bumps run down my spine.

As I dove into her, giving her my all, knowing she shared that with me in return, I groaned when she hooked one of her legs on my hips.

With my other hand, I angled it around my waist so that I had better access to her.

She released a soft sob as I dipped deeper, finding her core. Not dry, but not wet. For Star, that was drenched.

Sliding a finger into her, I waited for her reaction. Her breath stalled and she stilled, but when I thrust it into her carefully, a shudder came from her.

The butt of my hand rubbed against her clit now, and as she squirmed, hips rocking in a circle for maximum sensation, I smiled into the kiss.

“You take your pleasure, Star. You own it. No one else.”

A hiss escaped her and she reared up to nip my bottom lip. “We own each other,” she rumbled.

I froze.

“Teamwork makes the dream work,” she repeated with a gasp.

She had no idea what that meant to me at a moment like this, and I didn’t make a thing out of it, just grinned as I tore into her mouth with my lips, teeth, and tongue, knowing she was as into this as I was when her pussy clamped down around me.

Star ripped her mouth away from mine as she let loose a growl, head arching back against the wall as I moved faster now that I knew she was into this.

With her getting wetter, I pressed a kiss to her throat, tracing the sinews before I nipped her and started suckling the sensitive skin.

When she tugged on my hair, my focus wavered a touch, but I brought it back under control, refusing to let that fucking bastard and what he’d done to me spoil this moment.

I slipped another finger inside her, scissoring them as I nipped at her throat some more, unwilling to stop until she bore my mark.

I wanted to hear her whine at me about having to cover it with foundation—just the thought of that conversation made me double down until she was clutching at my fingers, harder than ever.

“Conor, please, I want you. Your cock. Now .”

Her request had me rasping, “How could I refuse?”

She released a breathy chuckle. “Then don’t.”

“You want it, you take it,” I informed her, pleased when, barely a second later, her hands scrabbled at the waistband of my sweats.

When her fingers slid around my cock, I growled under my breath as she stroked me once, twice. I bit her throat, rougher than I would have if I were in my right mind, but she didn’t freeze up on me, just tightened her hand around my shaft in retaliation.

I slipped my fingers out of her pussy then used my now spare hand to shove the leg she had wrapped around me to the ground. Then, I pulled the sweats further down her thighs, dropping to my knees to drag them to her ankles. Unhooking one around her shoe, I freed her from their constraints then jerked upright and hauled her into me.

She hooked both around my hips this time, then hissed when my dick rubbed up against her slit. I let the tip collide with her clit, rocking slightly so she could feel the pressure, but she took control of things by pressing the glans to her gate and allowing me inside her.

I didn’t thrust into her, just let her adapt to the new fullness. Inch by inch, slowly, she opened up to me and rewarded me for my patience. Gravity and her relaxing allowed her to sink onto me. Her nails dug into my shoulders this time as she released a soft wail that had me clenching my eyes closed.

For a moment, I just pressed my forehead to the wall beside her as she took all of me.

I breathed in her ear, “This will never not be my home, Star.”

When she sobbed, I nipped at her earlobe and slowly made my retreat.

After a couple thrusts, she adapted to the position, and that was when I slipped a hand between us so I could rub her clit.

“I can feel how fucking hot you are around me, Star. It’s heaven. Fucking heaven.”

“You fill me so good,” she whimpered. “Should be too much, but it’s not. It’s just… perfect.”

I didn’t associate Star with softness, but this was a newer side of her, one that I couldn’t wait to uncover fully.

“That’s us together—perfect,” I confirmed.

She bucked against the wall then demanded, “Faster, Conor. Faster.”

I complied, groaning as she tightened around me, her pussy muscles urging me to come, but I fought back by frigging her clit faster too.

“I-I—” Then, she screamed. Only, it wasn’t pleasure-filled. “Why is this so fucking impossible?”

I nipped at her earlobe again. “Because you’re thinking too much. Stop it. Just relax. Naughty girl.”

She shivered.

I sucked on the tender flesh. “Such a naughty girl. So impatient. Pleasure requires patience.”

“You feel so good, Conor,” she whispered thickly. “It hurts how good it feels.”

“Then just roll with it,” I murmured, slowing my thrusts so she could feel every inch. “This isn’t a race.”

A soft breath soughed from her. “You’re right.”

I pulled back to grin at her. “Why does that come as a surprise?” When she barked out a laugh, my grin widened. “This isn’t a fight, Star.”

“It used to be easier.”

“That means every time you come, I earned it,” I replied, my lips rubbing against hers. “Let me earn your pleasure, Star.”

Her face crumpled. “How do you…” I saw her tears. Felt each of them in my heart. Her mouth found mine and she whispered, “I love you, Conor O’Donnelly.”

“And I love you, Star Sullivan.”

Slowly, I started back up again.

It was only then I realized how tension had been thrumming through her.

She was more relaxed than before so each time I filled her, I felt the soft tremors inside and they packed a hell of a punch.

Stroking her clit, I whispered, “You’re so fucking beautiful, Star. Such a naughty girl, trying to run before you can walk, but so good too. So fucking good. I want you to come around my cock. Can you do that for me?”

Her head lolled against the wall. “I-I think so.” She started to thrust into me, snapping her hips back so that we were in sync. She whimpered, “God, you feel so… so…” This time, when she cried out, it came from a deeper place than before. “Oh, God. Fuck. Conor, there. There. ” She shuddered. “Faster. Please. H-Harder.”

I gave her exactly what she asked for and she rewarded me. When she screamed, it wasn’t about frustration or anger—it was about release.

As those delicate inner muscles began pummeling my cock, I stopped holding back and came too.

As she took all I had to give, she clung to me, holding on tight, so tight that I knew she never wanted to let go.

And I was more than okay with that.