She screams and howls and squeals, but I don’t put her down until her protests begin to wane, and she sniffles a little. Good. I’ve gotten through to her.
I tug her back over my lap to face me, grab her chin between my fingers, and lock her gaze with mine.
“Don’t you ever throw things at me again,” I say in an even tone. “Ever.”
The anger and fight have left her eyes. They’re now swimming with tears. She nods.
“Be a good girl, Aisling. If you don’t, you’ll be in a heap of trouble, lass.”
She nods again.
I lean in and kiss her cheek. I remember what Cormac says. I drag my hand over her shoulder, and she shivers a little. She wears a thin tank top with no bra, her nipples peaking right through the ribbed fabric. I drag my hand lower, weigh her breast in my palm then drag my thumb over the peaked bud.
She moans, and it spurs me on.
“Take it off.”
She scrambles to obey, her fingers at the edge of the top in seconds. She yanks it off and whips it to the floor. I lace my fingers behind her back, bend, and grasp her nipple between my teeth. Her head lolls back and her spine arches as I suckle her sweet, hardened nipples. I circle my tongue, and she moans.
I press my thumb between her thighs, and she arches into me. I lift my fingers to the edge of her shorts, pull them back, then slide my fingers over her panties to where she’s hot and wet. I stroke her gently, and she moans and whimpers. It’s better than the crying and pleading.
I’m not surprised to find her wet and needy, ready to come at a moment’s notice. I continue to suckle her nipple while I stroke her pussy, until her hips are jerking, her body arches, her breathing becomes hitched, and I increase the tempo of my strokes.
“Good girl,” I whisper, before I capture the second nipple between my teeth and give it the same treatment as the first. “Just like that. Take your mind off your troubles.”
She’s panting, grinding against my hand, as I continue to suckle and tease, lick and stroke.
She lets out a low-pitched moan, and I know she’s going to lose it at any moment. I bend and whisper in her ear. “Come, Aisling.” Just before I take her earlobe between my teeth and bite.
Holding her breath, her body tight with tension, she throws her head back, and with one more stroke of my fingers, she comes so hard she screams, the sexy sound of her voice filling my room.
“Good girl,” I whisper. “Just like that.”
She shakes her head but doesn’t reply, as her body spasms against my fingers and she whimpers. Her hips jerk, arms strewn about my neck as if to prevent herself from falling.
When she’s done, I hold her to me, and her breathing steadies.
I hold her to me. “Did that help?”
She nods wordlessly, but her grip tightens.
“Do you want me to make you come again?”
She shakes her head. “Not sure I could take more than that right now.”
I nod. My cock’s ramrod straight and hard as fuck, but there’s plenty of time for me. She’s my primary concern right now.
She’s as docile as a well-fed kitten at the moment, so I take her chin and bring her eyes to mine. “Why’d you throw that soup bowl at me?”
“I… didn’t want to eat it?” she looks almost normal for a moment, not like the addled woman who’s been writhing in my bed for two days.
I growl.
“I was angry,” she said. “That you’re keeping me prisoner.”
“That’s not going to change.”
She frowns. “Clearly.”
“You saw me kill a man, Aisling, and we can’t risk you reporting that to damn near anyone.”
She blinks. “I… I hardly remember a damn thing from that night, Tiernan.”
“Bloody hell.”
“And even if I did,” she says with vehemence, “I wouldn’t tattle on the Clan. You saved my life.”
I shrug. “I tried to.” I eye her curiously. “Was it the spanking or the climax that made the real Aisling come out to play?”
She drops her head and won’t meet my eyes. “Maybe a little bit of both.”
I take her by the hand and lead her to the shower. I’m hard as fuck and dying for some goddamn release, but I take care of her first. It’s my job, and goddammit, I’ll do my job.
She doesn’t fight me this time, but turns her face to the hot, streaming water and closes her eyes, welcoming it.
It isn’t until an hour or so later that the symptoms seem to return again. When the sun sets and the room grows dark, she begins to moan. She rocks on the bed and holds her arms to her chest. She turns her face to me and begins to cry.
Cormac sends me a text.
Need a break, brother? Want me to send up someone to watch her?
No fucking way.
I shake my head and toss the phone on the bed.
“Who’s that?”
“No one. Come here.”
I tug her onto my lap and hold her to me. “Close your eyes.”
She obeys.
“Listen to my heartbeat.”
She nods, her cheek to my chest. I reach my hand to her and gently touch her breast. She hisses in a breath and trembles. “Just enjoy this. Let it take you away from everything else that’s assaulting you. All of it. Understand me? Listen to my voice, and just focus on what you feel.”
I fondle her breast until she’s keening with pleasure and need. I reach my hand to her arse and give her a good, hard slap, which makes her moan. I spank her again, relishing the feel of my palm striking her with measured pain, the way it heightens her awareness and responses.
“More,” she whispers.
“More what, sweetheart?”
“More… everything.”
Chapter 8
Two years earlier
A light breeze rustles my dress as I walk to the McCarthy family mansion. I can hardly believe this day. My best mate Fiona’s getting married. Hell, we
