Tyrell, who had been standing off to the side like a fucking coward, finally spoke up. “That will only work if—”
Ciarán’s glare snapped to Tyrell, cutting him off mid-sentence. “Shut the fuck up, Tyrell,” he said coldly, his voice like ice over fire. “The fact that you’re still managing him after the shit he’s done—that shit don’t sit right with me.”
“Ci, listen, the label was pressuring me—”
“I said shut the fuck up,” Ciarán barked. He took a step forward, and Tyrell flinched. “Get the hell out of my house. Both of you. Now.”
Ezra looked like he wanted to say something but thought better of it. Tyrell opened his mouth to protest, but Ciarán’s glare shut him down. They both headed toward the door, Ezra throwing one last glance over his shoulder before disappearing.
The door slammed shut, and I turned to Ciarán, my chest still heaving.
“Ci…” I started, but he held up a hand, cutting me off.
He stared at me, his chest rising and falling, his eyes blazing with anger. “What the fuck was that, Jordin?”
I frowned. He wanted to keep being angry. Well, I wasn’t going to let him take it out on me.
“I’m not arguing about this. Let me finish the song, and this will be over with.” I walked off, heading toward the studio. I could hear his bare feet slamming against the ground as he followed me. I sighed.
I made it into the studio before he stopped me, grabbing my arm.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice low and hoarse. “I just… I can’t stand the thought of anyone hurting you.” He looked so sad.
His words broke something inside me, and I reached up, pulling him down into a kiss. It was desperate, frantic—a clash of teeth and tongues as we poured every ounce of frustration and longing into it.
He pulled back and pinned me against the wall like he owned me, his hands gripping my waist while his lips dragged heat down the side of my neck. My house dress bunched up around my thighs as his fingers dipped beneath, grazing bare skin, making my chest tighten.
A soft moan escaped my lips before I could catch it, and he took it as encouragement, his fingers sliding to the wet heat between my folds. My nails sank into his shoulders, my body arching into him as his fingers moved with purpose—starting slow, teasing me, dragging out the moment before picking up speed, working me into something I couldn’t control.
“Ciarán,” I gasped, his name breaking off my tongue like a prayer and a curse at the same time. My head fell back against the wall, the cool surface grounding me while everything else spiraled into chaos.
The red light on the studio equipment blinked in my peripheral, catching my attention.
“Are you recording this?” I managed to whisper, my voice shaky, barely holding together.
He smirked against my neck, that low, gravelly voice dripping with possession. “Just your voice, baby. When you cum for me. I’m going to add it to the song you send him, so that nigga has to think about what he can’t have every time he presses play.”
My heart skipped, the heat in my belly coiling tighter at his boldness. It wasn’t just about what he said—it was how hesaid it. Like he wasn’t asking for permission, like he’d already decided. I couldn’t help but like that strong-arm shit.
“You with me?” he asked, his voice low. His eyes locked on mine, waiting for my answer.
I nodded, my lips parted as I tried to find words, but all I could do was exhale a shaky breath. “Yeah,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.
“Good,” he said, his lips curving into the faintest smile, the kind that made my stomach flip. “Stay with me.”
He kissed me again, soft at first, then deeper, slipping his fingers inside me. He watched every reaction, studying me as he fucked me with them.
“Breathe, J,” he murmured against my lips, his fingers finding just the right rhythm. “I got you. Just let me.”
I clung to him, my nails digging into his shoulders as my body arched into his touch. The heat in my belly built slow, climbing higher and higher. My breaths came in short gasps, and I was barely holding on.
“Ciarán,” I breathed, his name a soft plea as my head fell back against the wall. My voice cracked, but I couldn’t help it—he had me fucking spiraling. If he could do this with his fingers, what the hell were his tongue and dick going to feel like?
“You’re almost there. I can feel this pussy vibrating for me,” he said, his tone calm, soothing, but there was a smirk hiding in his words. “Let it happen.”
“Oh, my damn,” I breathed out, panting.
“You hear that? That sound you’re making right now? Too beautiful. Everything about you is beautiful,” he said, looking me directly in the eyes.
