Carson: A Dark Irish Mafia Romance (Dangerous Doms)

by Jane Henry

  “You’re fucking beautiful.”

  I swallow the lump in my throat. I don’t deny it. I don’t say go on, with you, or question his sanity. And for once in my life, I don’t even doubt he speaks the truth. For once… I feel beautiful. Under his powerful, heated gaze, for once I know that I am.

  So I say the only response I can. “Thank you.” I give him a teasing look. “And you, sir, aren’t too hard on the eyes either.”

  The corner of his lips twitch as he slowly removes his clothes. I realize with a sudden thump of my heart that he still wears the damn harness, complete with heavy metal weapons, guns and knives. He shrugs out of the sleeves of the harness and places it in his closet, then shuts and locks the door as if to signal he’s clocking out.

  He turns back to me and grabs the bottom of his t-shirt, yanking it up and over his head. He slings it toward the hamper. Next comes his belt, thick black leather, that he folds in his hands and snaps. I jump, and arousal pulses between my thighs. He crosses the room to me, belt in hand, and when he reaches me, he gives my naked leg a teasing swat.

  “You’ve been a bad girl, Megan, haven’t you?”

  “The worst,” I say, and though I’m only flirting at first, I do feel a little guilty. Poor Fiona probably got lectured by Nolan and Lachlan, and that’s none too pleasant.

  “Did you put Fiona in danger?” he asks.

  “Welllll…” I bite my lip.

  He nods thoughtfully. “On your knees, belly down,” he says. “Grab onto the headboard.”

  I shiver in anticipation. Will he punish me?

  I do what he says as I hear him come up behind me. In silence, he drags the folded leather down over my shoulders, my back and my arse, until I shiver. He teases the sensitive skin until little goose pimples rise all over.

  The only warning is the hiss of leather through air before he strikes me across my upper thighs. I hiss out in pain, but grip the headboard as he instructed, and before I’ve recovered from the first lash, another lands.

  In between strokes of his belt, he caresses my inner thighs, drags the leather between my legs and over my shoulders before he brings it down hard again.

  Soon, I’m sinking into the moment, the erotic pull of dominance and submission as he orchestrates perfect, measured pain, the cadence of the swish and slap of leather almost soothing. I sigh and moan, rocking my hips as he continues, until I’m lightheaded and dizzy with arousal.

  He drags the leather between my legs and pulls, and I wantonly rock my hips for friction.

  “Touch yourself,” he says. “One hand between your legs.”

  I obey, dragging my fingers through my private, most sensitive parts while he continues the slow, deliberate lashes with his belt.

  “I want you to associate this pain with pleasure,” he says. “You’re almost already there. Almost.”

  I stroke myself as he spanks me, until the belt drops to the floor and I’m right at the very precipice of climaxing. I feel him behind me, his cock at my entrance.

  “Stop.” His command cuts like a whip. I freeze, my hand trembling. His hand cups me, and he glides his own fingers through my arousal.

  “Bloody hell,” he says with a guttural grown. “You’re fucking soaked.”

  “I am,” I pant. “You—you spanked me.”

  I say this as if it’s his fault I’m aroused. He grins, bends, and bites my shoulder. “I did. You earned it.”

  I moan and whimper. “I did.”

  He glides his cock through my wetness until he’s fully within me.

  “Sir,” I breathe. “Oh fuck.”

  He bites my shoulder again as he gives me a good, sharp thrust. I grip the bedpost for support, as his thick, swollen cock fills me.

  “Good girl,” he says. “God, woman, you’re so good to me.”

  He impales me with another savage thrust that threatens to break me in two, and I whimper with need and want.

  “I love you, Megan,” he says, rocking his hips and gliding in and out of me. “I love you.”

  “And I love you,” I tell him, and even though he’s in me I’m dying to get even closer to him. And maybe this is it. The proclamations of love to join us together, so neither of us wonders. So neither feels alone.

  I’m getting closer and closer to climax with every perfect, vicious thrust of his cock. His fingers dig into my hips so firmly, I wonder if he’ll leave marks. A little part of me wants him to.

  His low, tortured groan mingles with mine as we reach the point of climax. I throw my head back and his mouth comes to my neck, licking and suckling, until he moans with unbridled pleasure, thrusts one last time, and his seed lashes in me.

  My pulse races, my breath hitches, and I can’t breathe for long seconds as pleasure spasms through my body. My grip on the bed is so tight it hurts, but I’m grasping for purchase as he loses himself in me, and I in him. Our pleasure is joined, our pain is forgotten, and right then and there, we’re meant to be together like this.

  I start to come down from my climax when a second ripples through me, this one sweeter and more intense than the first. I come with abandon, moaning and writhing, as he works me to completion. “Beautiful girl,” he mumbles. “I love watching you climax.”

  I moan against him, shivering with the aftershocks that linger.

  “Works well for me,” I pant. “Because I do fucking love climaxing.”

  He squeezes my arse, and I squeal a bit. I shiver as he places delicate kisses along my neck to my shoulders, my arms, then down my back.

  “I hated being apart from you, even for a little while,” he says. “I’d made up my mind you were safer this way.”

  My throat feels suddenly tight, and I close my eyes when they burn. “You can’t do that to me again, Carson,” I whisper. “Never again. I wasn’t born into a family of saints, you know.”

  “I know.”

  “And I can handle it… being your woman,” I say. “You’re intense, but it’s one of the things I love best about you. There are so many things I love about you.” He’s still in me. Our bodies are still heated, still one. “We can do this, you know,” I say, and my voice is softer than normal. I want to tread lightly.

  He gently pulls himself out of me. “Stay here,” he whispers. “Be right back.” He comes back a moment later with a washcloth and towel. We clean up, then he leads me to the bathroom in silence. I’ve accepted that he’s often a man of few words. It’s his actions that speak louder anyway. The gentle forehead kisses. His warm hand on the small of my back. The way he tucks the duvet in around me when I go to sleep. The way he’s shown me absolute dedication and trust.

  We shower in silence. He lathers a washcloth and rubs it over my body, spins me around, then I do the same to him. He towels me off and leads me to bed, and when I slide beneath the covers, my eyes feel heavy.

  He tugs me onto his chest and weaves his fingers through my hair. My cheek rests on his clean white t-shirt, my fingers tightly gripping him.

  “I love you,” he says. “I’ve fucked up, and for that I’m sorry.”

  I nod. “We both have, haven’t we?”

  “Aye.”

  “We all do.”

  “Right. If I’ve learned anything from my brothers, it’s that we all make mistakes, but it takes a man to admit to them and ask forgiveness. I was wrong to keep you in the dark, Megan. Wrong to try to protect you by pushing you away. And I’ll never make those mistakes again.”

  “Those mistakes?” I tease. “Do you mean you’ll make others?”

  He tweaks my nose. “Aye, naturally, as will you.”

  “Me?” I ask in mock surprise. “Bollox.”

  He snorts with laughter. “Tomorrow, I want to take you the shooting range again. You showed some real promise, and I’d like to teach you some more advanced techniques.”

  “Ooh, I’d love that. It’s like riding a motorbike, you know.”

  “How’s that?” he asks.

  “Such a masculine thing, it turns m
e into all kinds of aroused.”

  His shoulders shake with laughter. “Didn’t think you needed much help in that area.”

  “Oh, Carson,” I say. “You love it.”

  His chuckle makes me smile. “I do. I love everything about you, lass.”

  Chapter 19

  Carson

  In the weeks and days following Eve’s death, I drowned in misery. It hurt when I woke. It hurt to move. It hurt to draw in breath.

  With the help of my Clan family, and with the passing of time, the acuteness of my pain began to ebb a little. But I replaced it with the thirst for vengeance. I lived, breathed, and drank revenge. And though I believe my lust for revenge was justified, I know now that it dimmed the light that surrounded me. I couldn’t see the beauty in the every day. I had no goals or aspirations beyond ending the lives of those that killed Eve. I yearned to hurt them.

  But I know now that I let my longing for retribution darken everything else about me. I went through the motions of taking care of Breena, but she rarely saw me smile, and rarely heard me laugh. I took good care of her, but who I was and the life I led was muted.

  And that’s changed now, due in no small part to Megan. To the light that she brings and the wholeness she inspires.

  A week after the O’Gregors were exiled, Lachlan and Tiernan confirm through a thorough sweep of the city that they are, indeed, gone. After a long, intense meeting, when we discuss whether or not we take over Stone City, we finally decide to reconvene at a later date. Megan’s waiting for me for lunch, walking wee Breena in the garden. She’s got flowers in her hair no doubt helped by Breena, and they’re both barefoot.

  “Careful walking barefoot,” I tell her when I join them. “You could hurt yourself.”

  Megan smiles. “The gardener’s impeccable, Carson,” she says. “And anyway, you can’t earth with shoes on. I’m earthing.”

  “What the hell is earthing?”

  “It’s when you gain healing energy from the earth,” she says. “You spend just a little time barefoot outside. Try it, it works.”

  “Don’t need to walk barefoot through grass to reinvigorate my senses, thank you,” I tell her, and I must make some sort of face, because she laughs out loud.

  “We’ll loosen you up, yet, Carson,” she says. “You wait and see.”

  “Mmm,” I say in her ear. “You can loosen me up, and I’ll tie you up. Sound good?”

  She shivers. “Aye,” she says with a hoarse whisper. I love how easily I can affect her.

  We walk by the shore with Breena, and later when she goes with her new nanny I take Megan to the shooting range. I love spending time with her like this, just the two of us together. I love holding her in my arms and showing her how to aim her weapon. I love how she sighs against me and nestles right in.

  “I’m sorry I thought you a spy,” she says one day, while we’re eating lunch at the little Italian restaurant in town. “I… feel a little guilty that I initially made up my mind that I’d stay with you just so I could see if you were a spy for my family.”

  I nod. “I wish you hadn’t felt the need to do it, either, but at the same time, I understand,” I tell her.

  “I’m glad,” she says. “And going forward, it’s crucial that the two of us promise we won’t lie to one another. I should’ve showed you the diary immediately.”

  “Aye,” I tell her. “And while I promise I won’t lie to you, Megan, it is important you keep in mind that I can’t divulge everything the Clan does.”

  “Understood,” she says. “I mean, we’ve discussed it before, and the girls and I have as well. I just mean that you need to tell me what you’re thinking.” She rolls her eyes. “I know, one of the hardest tasks for an alpha male.”

  I smile at her. “Still, not impossible,” I tell her. “I can handle that.”

  “Good,” she says. “So now let’s talk about something. Honestly, shall we?”

  I eye her suspiciously. “Was this a set-up?”

  “Yes,” she says. I can’t help but chuckle with her brutal honesty. “I can tell you’ve been sort of in your head the past few days,” she says. “And I want to know why.”

  I drag a slice of bread through the flavored olive oil in front of me, take a bite, and chew for a moment before I answer. It isn’t because I’m trying to evade the truth, but because I’m trying to frame my answer.

  “Truth is, love, I’m not quite sure,” I tell her honestly. “I’ve spent the past months completely consumed with the need for vengeance. And before that? I thought the rest of my life I’d be with Eve.”

  She doesn’t even flinch at my words but listens with a nod. “Ah, well that makes sense,” she says. “And now what?”

  “Exactly,” I tell her. “Now what?”

  She swirls her spaghetti on her fork, then lifts it to her mouth and takes a thoughtful bite. She chews for a moment, then nods her head.

  “It’s a good question,” she says. “I’ve wondered that myself. For starters, we need to decide where we are.”

  My phone buzzes. I glance down, as it’s from Keenan.

  Brother, meet me up at the mansion? Would like to have a word.

  “It’s Keenan,” I tell her. “He wants a word. Want to join me?”

  She nods. “Absolutely.”

  “As for what’s next,” I tell her, as we wait for our check to arrive. “It is indeed something we have to discuss.”

  She knows I love her. I know she loves me. But that doesn’t simplify our next steps. As a couple within the Clan, whatever we decide needs to be in the best interest of the brotherhood, as well. Thankfully, as a Clan family member, she’ll know that as well.

  We head back up to the mansion, and when we arrive, Keenan meets us in the garden. It’s unusual for him to be at leisure like this.

  “Didn’t expect to see you lounging, cousin,” Megan says with a teasing smile. “Are you really? It’s so unlike you.”

  He grimaces but chuckles. “Caitlin says I’ve gotten too high strung and need to take a little break once in a while.”

  Megan grins and wags a finger at me. “See? ’Tis the job of a Clan woman to see her man doesn’t burn himself into the bloody ground.”

  I grin at her. “Aye.”

  “Have a seat,” Keenan says with a smile, waving to the empty stone benches that sit under the overhanging trellis. I sit, and Megan sits beside me. I reach for her hand, entwining my fingers through hers. This feels important. It’s rare he calls us to him individually.

  “How’s Breena?” he asks. “Does she like her new nanny?”

  “Aye,” I tell him. “She’s a young lass, but she’s very good with her.” Maeve and I finally hired a nanny after interviewing over a dozen. Maeve said I was too hard on them, expected too much. Is it too much to ask for identification, half a dozen references, and certification in CPR and first aid? Not when you’re hiring someone to watch your child.

  “Mam says you scared half of them away.”

  I shrug. “Matter of opinion.”

  “Might as well tell Father Finn now, Breena will become a nun, you know,” Megan says.

  I frown at her. “Why’d you say that?”

  “Because no bloody bloke this side of the Atlantic will date a girl with a father like you,” she says, but I know she’s only teasing me. And hell, she’s right.

  I blow out a breath. “Frankly, I think I’m quite happy with that notion.”

  She laughs and teasingly smacks my shoulder. “Course you are.”

  Keenan watches us both with a smile. “You two have excellent chemistry,” he says. I eye him warily. What the hell is this? I’ve never seen Keenan play the part of Cupid, but he’s damn near pulling his arrow on the bow already.

  “We do,” Megan says. “But what the hell are you playing at, Keenan?”

  Ah, do I love this woman.

  Keenan smiles. “Oh, nothing,” he says, stroking his beard. “It’s just that… well…” his voice trails off. “You shouldn
’t wait on marrying.”

  Megan’s eyes grow wide. “Marriage? Are you—”

  But then she looks at me and clamps her mouth shut. Is she that opposed?

  “Aye,” I tell him. “It’s a fair point. Megan, do you know the laws that protect you if you’re wed to a man of the Clan?”

  “Thought I was protected being related to the McCarthys?” she says.

  “You are,” I tell her. “But that protection magnifies if we’re wed.”

  “I see.”

  “There’s more,” Keenan says. “You know how the brothers live on premises?”

  I nod. “Carson, at the very least, I’d like you to consider moving into the mansion. It’s only fitting, now that we know you’re McCarthy blood.”

  “Aye,” I tell him, and my voice is husky with emotion. I swallow to hide it. I haven’t fully processed yet that the man who had a hand in raising me, who taught me to be the man I am today, was actually my father. A part of me wishes I knew this when he was still alive.

  “Yes. Yes,” Megan says. “It’s perfect.”

  “Thank you, Keenan.”

  He shrugs off my thanks. “No need to thank me. You know mam will lose her mind having Breena nearby and think of how good it’ll be for Breena to grow up near her cousins.”

  “Aye,” Megan says. “I can say a lot for growing up around your cousins. I mean, some days they’ll do your damn head in, but other days…” she grins when Keenan rolls his eyes.

  I explain to Breena why we’re moving the next day, and things move quickly. I live nearby and our possessions are few, so within days, we’re getting settled. It’s hard, though, because this was where Eve and I last lived together. It seems as if leaving here and moving into the McCarthy family home is symbolic. As if I’m leaving the ghost of Eve behind to take on my new life with Megan.

  Breena transitions easier than I do. She loves being around her cousins and Maeve, and she’s taken a liking to her new nanny. Nolan and Cormac built a wooden playhouse way in the back of the property, and Breena loves to play there. We’re finally settled in, so I find Megan, and the two of us stroll to the cliffs.