by Jane Henry
He makes me come again.
And again.
And again.
Chapter 5
Carson
Real fear flickered in her eyes when I snapped the cane on my palm, and it almost grounded me.
Almost.
I saw the way her eyes rounded. I felt the way her pussy clenched. I watched as I mastered her body and she gave way to her orgasm, over and over again until the merest touch of my fingers had her clenching and writhing in the restraints.
She’s spent, her eyes barely open, when I finally unfasten her restraints and tuck her into bed beside me. I lie at her back and wrap my arm around her until her breathing slows. I close my own eyes.
What am I doing? This is so fucking risky, but bloody hell, it feels so good. Just to lose myself for one night, one fucking night, with this beautiful, vivacious woman. So full of life, laughter, and sex appeal for fucking days.
Keenan would literally kick my ass. Dead.
Cormac would beat the crap out of me.
Nolan would likely castrate me.
Hell, even Maeve would probably kill me dead.
I didn’t just take her back for a quick fuck. I mastered her, made her come more times than I could count, then tucked her into bed, spent. I lay beside her in the darkness.
I shouldn’t do this.
If she knew who I really was, what I’m planning to do… hell, there would be no turning back.
This could ruin everything.
I shake my head, talking myself out of ruminating. Breena gets up in a few hours and I need to be ready.
Just for tonight, I’ll enjoy this.
Just for tonight, I’ll rest in this.
It isn’t every night a guy gets to sleep next to a beautiful woman. I drape my arm around her, and I drift off to sleep.
It doesn’t take long for the dreams to come.
Always the same. Always dark and dreary. I’m always alone. I know where I am tonight, which is unusual. Sometimes it takes me a while to figure it out.
But tonight, I’m in the ruins of a church in Stone City. Our rival’s headquarters.
I can hear her. She’s screaming for me, and this time, I’m going to find her. I’ve got a knife in one hand and a gun in the other, and I’m prepared to use both. Her screams come louder, but I’m being chased on all sides. Someone’s on my left and on my right, and at my back. I slash into the darkness and they fall away, but just as soon as my assailants fall back, more take their place.
“Carson!”
I fling my knife down and cock my pistol, ready to shoot. I pull the trigger, shooting into the darkness. It’s messy and dark and confusing. Screams come from all around me, and someone pushes me from behind. I see cloaked men in the darkness, and I wonder where they’ve come from, for every time I kill one, another takes his place. It’s then that I know I can’t win this. There are too many of them, and only one of me. I don’t have my army of brothers with me. There’s one of me against an army.
I see light far in the distance, so I run toward it. This is where I can’t find her, where I never get to her. But tonight, something’s different. The doorway’s getting narrower and further in the distance, just beyond my reach, but this time, I’ll get to it. The walls are closing in on me and darkness is descending. With a scream and a leap, I make it to the door just in time, and I fall to my knees and crawl through the opening.
I’m here. I actually made it. I’m where I need to be, where she is.
I kneel, frozen in place. It isn’t Eve that’s screamed for me, but Megan.
I wake from my dream. Bright, vivid light streams in through the shades I never bothered to close last night, and beside me the bed is empty. I blink, trying to get my bearings.
Where’s Megan? Did she leave?
Residual panic from my dream surfaces, but I school myself and get my bearings.
Where is she?
I hear voices in the kitchen. A giggle, then a response. Megan got Breena up?
I sit up, trying to clear the fog of dreams from my mind. I don’t even remember what I dreamt about last night, but it’s left me feeling oddly uneasy. Possibly even more unsettling is the fact that Breena got up and I didn’t hear her.
What do I think about the fact that Megan’s in the kitchen with her? Breena’s too young to know that Megan stayed here last night. I have to remember that. I’m tempted to go into the kitchen and somehow… save face or something. But she’s only a wee one yet.
I throw the covers off.
What now? What the fuck did I do?
I run a hand through my hair and shake my head. Christ, I should fess up to my Clan brothers. I really should. Maybe if I did, one of them would give me the fucking beating I deserve.
The memory of the night before comes crashing down on me like a deck of cards.
I took Megan home.
I spanked her.
Christ, I caned her. I made her come so many times her voice was hoarse by the time she fell asleep.
What’s wrong with me?
Bloody hell, I deserve to let the McCarthy brothers kick my arse from here to the fucking sea. They’d lose their minds.
I throw the covers off, use the bathroom, then pull a t-shirt on and head to the kitchen. I pad down the hall and freeze when I hear them talking.
“Nummy,” Breena says. “Very nummy.”
“Ah, you like your eggs, do you? They’re my specialty, you know.”
“Where daddy?”
“Daddy’s probably still sleeping,” Megan says. She’s got her back to me when I enter the kitchen, scrubbing the frying pan in the sink.
“There daddy!” Breena says, pointing her finger at me. I smile at her, and the frying pan clatters into the sink.
Megan turns to me. Breena’s sitting in her highchair up at the kitchen counter, waving her little fists at me. Megan’s wearing… oh, Christ, what is that? My t-shirt and pajama pants? The clothes dangle on her but hug her in all the right places, so long she’s nearly tripping on them. I turn away quickly. I have to keep myself together.
“Morning, baby girl,” I say to Breena, giving her a kiss on the top of her head.
She sucks juice out of her cup and watches me with wide eyes. She points her finger to Megan.
Breena nods. She doesn’t speak much, but she’s a bright one. She catches on. “Kiss, daddy.”
She wants me to give Megan a good morning kiss, too. I look to Megan, who’s standing with her arse pressed up against the counter—my counter, her gorgeous curves hugging the hard ledge. Her hair’s tousled, and she wears no makeup, but I’ve never seen anyone more beautiful.
I imagine lifting the edge of that shirt and seeing the marks I left all over her.
I smile at her. From where I’m standing, I can see little pink marks along her neck. I grin at her.
“Right,” Megan says in a low murmur. “Kiss, daddy.”
She holds her cheek out to me. I bend, gently cup her jaw with the palm of my hand and kiss her cheek. She swallows hard, and she trembles a little. I love that I affect her like this, that she’s not immune to the pull between us. I half wondered if our mutual attraction would wane in the light of morning, but it’s stronger than ever.
My phone rings in the other room, but I don’t move to get it. I’m caught in her spell, somewhere between fantasy and reality. The fantasy that she belongs here. The reality that she doesn’t.
“You should get that phone,” she says. “What if you… won something?”
“They can leave a message,” I say, waving my hand in the general direction of the phone.
“What if it’s your boss?”
Okay now, that’s a fair point. Keenan expects the men of the Clan to answer when he calls. Grumbling, I head to the bedroom to get my phone. But when I reach it, it isn’t Keenan that’s on the other line. And it isn’t my regular cell phone that’s ringing, but the burner phone I use.
Stone City calling. I look to the door. Bloody hell,
if Megan knew who I was talking to… if any of the McCarthy family knew. I can’t believe I left the damn ringer on. I’m getting sloppy.
“Hello?”
I take the call. It’s one that I’ve been waiting for.
I make it quick and keep the door shut during our conversation. When it’s done, I tuck it in my drawer and join Megan and Breena in the kitchen again. She can’t know who that was, what they wanted. Nobody can.
“Who was that?” Megan asks.
“Ah, no one,” I say. I take the tea she offers me with a grateful smile. Hell, but it’s good to be able to talk to an adult around here for once. I love every inch of little Breena but parenting a toddler alone can get fucking lonely.
“Not no one,” she says, her brow furrowed. “You can’t tell me?”
I take a long pull from my mug and hold her gaze before I answer. “You’ve been part of this family for how long now, Megan?” I ask sharply.
“Oh, my whole life,” she mutters, before smiling at me.
“Then you ought to know some things don’t get discussed.”
She rolls her eyes, and it makes me want to spank her again.
The phone rings a second time, then a third. God. This isn’t going as planned at all. Bloody hell, I didn’t have a plan.
“True,” Megan mutters. “Well, then. I ought to be going,” she says. She turns away from me awkwardly, as if she doesn’t know where to look or what to touch or what she should say. She glances at the time on the microwave. “I’ve got a shift at the hospital later.”
I look at the clock along with her. “You have time?”
“Aye,” she says. “Do you want to go get ready first? And I’ll watch Breena a bit.”
“I’m good, thanks.”
Why is everything that was so perfect so bloody awkward now?
“Well, then,” Megan says. “I’ll just… go get my things.”
She puts her mug in the sink then walks to my bedroom. I give Breena a tight smile, then turn and follow Megan. She turns to face me when I enter the room. Her eyes are wide and bright, her cheeks flushed pink and her hand’s up to her throat.
She keeps her eyes on me as I walk toward her. I don’t take my time, but in three large strides, I’ve got her in my arms. I shove her up against the wall and pin her wrists above her head. She moans when I drive my knee between her legs and part them, pressing my leg against her barely-clad pussy.
“Carson,” she whispers, when I take my mouth off hers. “Bloody hell.”
My sentiments exactly. I’ve been with enough women to know, this attraction between us is fucking combustible. I’ve never felt anything like it, even with… no. No, I won’t think of that now.
I rake up her shirt and marvel at the soft, silky feel of her skin beneath her top.
“Fucking gorgeous. We shouldn’t do this… we shouldn’t be…”
But she places her finger to my lips. “Who cares?” she whispers.
I’ll tell her who fucking cares. Keenan, Cormac, and Nolan, that’s who.
There’s no denying the way things are between us, the erotic attraction that pulses and hums like a plane ready for takeoff.
“I have to go,” I tell her. “Maeve said she’ll watch Breena today, but I’ve work to do that can’t wait.”
She sighs and presses her forehead to my shoulder but doesn’t respond at first. Finally, she nods. “Alright, then. I know my cousin, and Keenan isn’t a patient man.”
She doesn’t want to leave, but hell, she has to. We both do. We can’t do this, and she knows it. If she finds out what I’m doing in secret…
She goes to leave the room, but I can’t help myself. I take her hand and yank her back to me. I can’t let her walk away.
“Not yet,” I tell her. The need to control, master, and dominate floods me, all-consuming and powerful. I need this woman. I need just one more taste of her before I do the fucking work that has to be done, that steals a bit of my soul every time I go.
“But… Breena…” she says in a husky whisper.
“Her favorite show’s on,” I tell her. “I’ll get her situated and you wait right here for me. When I come back, I want you waiting for me.” I give her a series of instructions, and she nods.
She gives me a slow, seductive grin, her voice a low purr when she whispers, “Yes, sir.”
I reach for her hair and tuck it behind her ear. “Good girl.”
Breena’s swinging her little legs in her highchair when I go back to the kitchen, eating her breakfast.
“You want to watch your show?” I ask her.
She nods eagerly and giggles, lifting her arms up for me to take her out of her highchair. I quickly clean her up, carry her to the couch, and get her situated.
When I come back, she’s waiting for me. Just as I instructed.
Naked. Lying over the bed, belly down, her beautiful, heart-shaped ass on display. Her eyes are closed, and she looks at rest, save the white-knuckled grip she has on the duvet.
We don’t have time for me to do all the things I long to. But we have time enough.
I walk to her and anchor my hands on her hips. She smiles.
“Fucking beautiful,” I say approvingly. I bend and kiss the little dimple on her lower back.
“Well I wouldn’t say—”
Smack.
I slam my palm hard against her arse. She arches up and hisses out a breath. “What’s that?”
She bites her lip. “I said ‘thank you, sir.’”
She’s learned quickly.
I give her another hard smack, then another. “So beautiful. Today, when you’re going about your business, I want to know you’re covered in my marks. That you remember this. Can you do that for me?”
“Feckin’ hell, you’re a dirty son of a bitch,” she says with an approving grin. “Yes, yes I can.”
I unzip my trousers and remove my swollen cock. I slide a condom on and glide myself between her thighs. “That’s what I thought. I love that. Such a good girl.”
She spreads her legs and stays just like I wanted her, bent over the bed. I spread her cheeks and glide my fingers along her slit.
“I want to fill every inch of you,” I say, my voice low and affected with this beautiful woman at my mercy. I press my thumbs to the tight ring of muscle. “This, too. Have you ever been fucked here, lass?”
She shakes her head from side to side. “I’m no virgin, sir, but until you, one might say I’ve only dabbled in… vanilla.”
I glide my cock between her slick folds and work a gentle, purposeful rhythm, until she’s moving along with me, her hips rocking, keening with pleasure.
“I wish I had all day with you,” I whisper, as I thrust in her.
“We can arrange that,” she says on a moan.
We can’t. We fucking can’t, and I wish I could tell her why. But we can enjoy right here, right now.
I bend my body to hers, my cock filling her. I glide in and out, reaching for her breasts and cupping them in my palms. Fucking perfection. She rocks with me, gripping the bed, her pants and mine mingling in the quiet of the room.
“What happens if you come without permission?” I remind her.
She shivers, her voice affected when she says in a strangled whisper, “You punish me, sir.”
“That’s right. Do you want the cane again?”
She pauses before answering, and I hold back a grin. It’s the challenge any girl who’s into kink faces. The cane hurts like fucking hell, and her first instinct is to say no, she doesn’t want to be punished. But she remembers how her caning brought her to new heights, still remembers what it felt like to be under my control.
She shakes her head, not answering. I rock my hips and slam into her, then draw my length out until only the tip remains. “Then what do you do?”
“Ask for permission,” she says. Her thick, wavy hair’s a tangled mass on the bed, and the room is thick with the scent of sex and power. Her own provocative, gently feminine scent fills m
y senses. I lose myself in her, my head falling back as my groans meet hers.
“May I, sir? I don’t know if I can hold back,” she says, as I continue thrusting in and out, pinching her nipples until she bucks and keens with pleasure.
“Come, lass,” I whisper. “Go ahead, now.”
My own release chases on the heels of hers, and we groan together in mutual pleasure. I lash into her, completing with vicious, hard thrusts. She’s stifling her screams so she isn’t overheard, but her cheeks are flushed, and she’s panting. It’s a fucking gorgeous sight.
“Good girl,” I say with a nod. “That’s exactly what I want to fucking see.”
She’s panting, come down from her climax, when she grins at me. Her eyes are still closed. “I didn’t know the professor had such a mouth.”
I slap her arse playfully and draw myself out. “What can I say? You bring out the best in me.”
“I suppose my cousins had something to do with that,” she says, but her laughter quickly fades. It’s best we don’t talk about the complications we face. I look at the time, frowning when I realize I’m running late.
I wish I didn’t have to go. I wish I could stay here with Megan. I wish I didn’t have to do the job I must.
I wish I didn’t have to live two lives, this duplicitous existence.
“I’m sorry,” she says, likely blaming herself for my sudden change in mood.
“Don’t be,” I tell her, but I can’t keep the bitter tone of regret out of my voice.
We change in silence, and she pulls her clothes on from the night before. She looks ashamed, bowing her head as she bends to pull on one of her heels. She doesn’t look like she did the night before, though, her clothing rumpled.
“Damn, I look a sight,” she mutters. “Hope I don’t see any of the girls when I go back.”
“You look lovely,” I tell her. I pull on a pair of jeans, and she watches as I drag a t-shirt over my head.
She whimpers a little. “I can’t believe you’ve been sitting right under my nose,” she murmurs to herself. “Bloody hell.”
I look down at myself, as if my t-shirt and jeans will tell me what the hell she means. I look at her quizzically, and she rolls her eyes.
“Of course you have no idea, do you?” She shakes her head. “No idea.”
