Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 81504 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81504 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
“What are you doing?” she asks, her voice betraying her apprehension as I stalk behind her.
“Be quiet.”
My voice is harsh, my tone corrective. She knows I mean what I say. She knows she’s earned this.
I shrug out of my leather jacket and toss it to the chair, then stalk in front of her again. I watch as her eyes rove over my arms and neck, McCarthy family ink covering damn near every inch. The names of my sisters were the first I got when I was still a lad, faded like the memory of them. Now, the more prominent tats are McCarthy-born. Our crest, our Celtic knot, indicators of my rank and loyalty to the brotherhood.
“You got more ink,” she says, her voice husky with arousal. She likes it.
“Aye.”
She opens her mouth to speak again, but her words die on her lips when I reach for my belt buckle.
“Tully,” she whispers, squirming, her wrists still bound above her.
“Yes, lass?”
“Not that,” she says, but her protests are weak. Her eyes are lust-filled and heavy lidded, her nipples pebbling beneath my unadulterated gaze. I let my eyes rove over her naked body, lingering between her legs where I can already see arousal glistening on her thighs.
I fold the belt in two and give it a good, hard snap! She jumps and swallows.
I walk over to her, my belt in my right hand, while I capture her chin with my left. I hold her gaze.
“Glasses off?” she whispers, her eyes alight with nerves and excitement.
I nod, removing her glasses, and placing them beside her on the bedside table. I go back to her, bend, and kiss her. I groan as our lips meet. God, but I missed how sweet she tastes, the way she yields to my kiss and melts with the slightest pressure.
My fingers wrap around the back of her neck and my tongue meets hers, as I swallow her moan. I pull away, breaking our kiss, but our foreheads touching.
“I missed you,” she whispers.
“Aye, lass. I missed you as well.” I breathe her in. “Tis a shame I need to punish you when we’re finally back together.”
“You don’t have to—”
I press my finger to her lips and grab her hair. She gasps as I yank her head back.
“I fucking do and you know it.”
“Tully—”
“That’s ‘sir’ to you.”
She closes her eyes when I release her, stalking behind her with my belt in hand. My dick’s so hard it’s painful when I stand behind her and bring my arm back. I snap the leather against the fullest part of her arse. Bright pink blooms against her pale white skin. She squeals.
I slap her again, crisscrossing the leather with one lash after another. She hisses in a breath, whimpering as I punish her. I stalk back over to her, reach between her legs, and stroke her slick folds.
“Tell me the truth.”
“Yes!” she gasps when I pinch her clit.
“Tell me you like when I punish you.”
“I don’t! It hurts! Ow!” she squeals when I slap the folded leather across her arse again, my hand still pressed against her pussy.
“Then why are you so wet?”
“Natural instinct,” she breathes. “It’s my body’s intuitive fight or flight response!”
I barely stifle a chuckle. She’s got a vocabulary larger than she is.
I spank her again, my hand at her pussy, stroking, pinching, circling. She groans and presses up against my hand.
“I want the truth.”
“No!”
I shake my head and withdraw my hand. “You want this whipping.”
She squeals, cringing, prepared for another lash, but it doesn’t come. I stand behind her, waiting. Her thighs glisten, and the sight of her reddened arse makes me nearly lose my fucking mind. She’s holding her breath, her body rigid.
“Are you done?” she asks, unable to hide the note of disappointment in her tone. I smile.
“No.”
“Then get it fucking over with!”
I drop the belt, kneel on the bed beside her, and fist her hair, yanking her head back. I shake my head.
“You don’t tell me what to do, lass.”
She gulps, her mouth dropping open when I pull her hair even harder.
“Then what are you waiting for?”
“The truth.”
She whimpers, fighting with herself, then finally moans.
“Fine, then,” she whispers. “I like it when you punish me. I crave the pain you give me.” Her voice is hoarse and tremulous. “And I’ve missed you so.”
Her admission that she’s missed me makes me soften a little. I kiss her cheek, and her eyelashes flutter closed like dancing butterflies.
“Missed you, too, beautiful.”
I release her hair and embrace her from behind, her naked, trembling body against my fully clothed one, her breasts cupped in my hands, my cock straining against her heated, punished arse. I love the exchange of power between us. I love that she gives this to me, or more accurately, that she makes me fight for it.
“I’ll finish this punishment, McKenna.” I unzip my trousers and take out my stiff cock and groan as I glide it across her heated arse. “I missed you, too.”