Cormac: A Dark Irish Mafia Romance: Dangerous Doms

Home > Other > Cormac: A Dark Irish Mafia Romance: Dangerous Doms > Page 9
Cormac: A Dark Irish Mafia Romance: Dangerous Doms Page 9

by Henry, Jane


  “More rules?”

  “Aye. But you’re a smart girl. You’ll catch on.”

  “Lovely.” If he notes my sarcasm, he doesn’t show it.

  “You’re welcome to walk about the grounds. We have beautiful gardens, and our home overlooks the Irish Sea. As long as you’re careful, you keep your guards with you at all times, and you do what I say, you’ll have a good deal of freedom.”

  I don’t respond. It’s hard for me to reconcile my bear of a husband with the man who’s talking to me now. Perhaps it’s part of his seduction plan.

  A knock sounds at the door, and I jump.

  “Relax, lass,” he says, his brows drawn together. “You’re jumpy as a wee rabbit. It’s only breakfast.”

  “Thought you said we’d dine downstairs?”

  He walks to the door and speaks over his shoulder. “Thought we’d eat up here, but we can go down if you’d like.”

  I do. I want to see Caitlin and his mother, and I’ve other reasons as well.

  “I would. Please, can we eat with the others today?”

  His brows draw together as he thinks on it. He opens the door, says something to whoever’s waiting on the other side, then turns back to me. “Aileen. Can you tell me why you wish to go downstairs?”

  So maybe he will actually listen to me once in a while.

  “Aye.” I explain my reasoning. “I’d like to see Caitlin and your mum, but I also don’t want anyone to think that I’m too shy to see them or too weak to face them after my claiming last night. I want to show a brave face. Make a good first impression.”

  I may’ve fucked that up with my husband, but I won’t with my in-laws.

  He scratches his beard. “Well, I must confess that surprises me. But yes, I’ll allow it. It’d be easier for me to talk to my brothers as well.”

  I’m getting out of bed while I talk, eager to get dressed and go downstairs.

  “How many brothers do you have?”

  “Two blood brothers, and several dozen adopted.”

  I turn to face him in shock. “What? Your parents adopted dozens?”

  But he isn’t laughing or even paying attention to what I’m saying.

  “Jesus, you’re gorgeous,” he says, taking a step toward me. My heart beats faster.

  “Thank you.” I look down at the little nightie I still wear. It’s rumpled from sleep, clinging to me with static, so it does little to protect me and leaves nothing to the imagination. “I’ll give you this, you don’t hold back on the compliments.”

  His lips twitch. “Lucky for you I’ve got to meet my brothers,” he says. “Or I’d have to fuck you again before breakfast.”

  It makes me a little nervous. “There will be plenty of time for that, Mr. McCarthy.”

  That gets me a full-on smile. Something flutters in my chest.

  “And you didn’t answer my question about the brothers. How do you have so many?”

  His brows furrow in confusion. “My mates in the Clan, lass. Don’t tell me your father and brother don’t call their men brothers as well?”

  Again, his code is so different from theirs it startles me.

  “They don’t,” I say. “Never.”

  “Bloody hell.”

  “Can we please just go downstairs and eat now?” My stomach gnaws with hunger, but I want to leave for a different reason. I don’t like talking about my brother and father.

  “Aye. Get dressed, and we’ll go.”

  He gestures to the dresser adjacent his. I open the top drawer, and find it filled with socks, nighties, bras, and knickers. Some are mine, but most are new. I look through every drawer, marveling at the quality of clothing.

  Maybe I will like it here after all.

  Chapter 9

  Cormac

  Mother of God, I knew the Martins were a manky Clan, but really? Do they have any code at all? They don’t protect their women but sell them like cheap French whores. They don’t even call each other brother. Is there no fellowship between them?

  Last night, when I met Blaine at the club, I delivered the bloodied sheets. He tossed them in the trunk of his car and didn’t even have the decency to acknowledge me, just turned his back and walked toward the club, the fucking twat.

  I didn’t let him go, though. I wanted him to pay for his treatment of Aileen, and I didn’t want to spill his blood inside.

  He paid. I sent him home with two black eyes, broken ribs, and a warning he’d better fucking heed. I would’ve preferred spending the night with my new wife, but I had a duty to perform. And her thanks and appreciation were payment enough. I want her to know that arsehole will never come near her again.

  I don’t miss the way Aileen’s eyes light up when she looks at the folded clothes in her drawer. I had my staff put some of her own clothing in here, but I had quite a bit bought new. A new life. A new start.

  “Let’s go,” I tell her. “You can give me a fashion show later. There are more clothes in the closet.” I gesture to the large walk-in closet in the corner of the room.

  “Are you kidding me?” Her surprise is adorable.

  “No. But I’m starving, too, and I get impatient when I’m starving.”

  “So that’s the ticket, is it?” she asks, stepping into a tiny pair of lacy knickers. I swallow hard, my cock thickening as I watch her dress. Christ, but she’s gorgeous, that full, heart-shaped arse begging to be kissed, spanked, and bitten. I swallow.

  “The ticket to what?” My voice is hoarse like a horny teen’s.

  “Keeping you well fed keeps you happy. Feed your belly?”

  She’s got a smart mouth, but fuck, I love it.

  I have to touch her. I need to be close to her again, to inhale her seductive scent and touch her silky skin. I cross the room and reach for her from behind, anchoring my hands on her hips. She stills when I bring my mouth to her ear. Her body’s warm against mine, and my cock strains against my zipper.

  “Good girl,” I whisper in her ear. “That’s right, lass. Satisfy all my appetites, and you’ll find I’m much easier to get along with.”

  She closes her eyes and moans when I nibble her lobe before licking the shell of her ear. Christ, but the girl’s responsive, eager. I splay my hand on her belly, my fingers grazing the lacy edge of her knickers. She pushes her arse against me. My cock throbs.

  “I’ll let you heal before I fuck you again,” I whisper in her ear, tracing her ear with my tongue. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

  I slide my fingers past the elastic band on her knickers. I love the way she trembles and pants before I even touch her.

  “Did you like it when I made you come last night, lass?”

  “Oh, God,” she says in a strangled whisper. “Are you joking? I fucking loved it.”

  “Good girl. Tell me, sweetheart. Do you touch yourself?”

  She grabs my arm, holding on so she doesn’t sway. She nods, then swallows hard when I cup her bare, hot pussy.

  “Do you make yourself come?”

  She bites her lip but nods again. “Aye.”

  “Tell me what you think of when you come.” I take one finger and part her folds. Waiting.

  She whimpers a bit.

  “Tell me,” I repeat.

  “I… I sometimes think about… being dominated.”

  Christ. I mentally fist bump in victory.

  I reward her with one stroke of my finger. She gasps, and parts her legs, silently begging me for more.

  “Do you? How so?”

  “I… I’ve imagined being handcuffed and used,” she whispers. Again, another rewarding stroke of my fingers, but this time I enter her core. Gently probing. The sweet, seductive scent of her arousal makes my mouth go dry.

  “Go on.”

  “I’ve imagined what it’s like to be spanked or whipped, but I—” She opens her eyes and gives me a reproachful look. “It’s nothing like what you did to me.”

  “Aye,” I say with a smile, fingering her again s
o that the look of reproach vanishes. “It rarely is.”

  “What?”

  “Fantasy versus reality. But have you thought of your whipping since I gave it to you?” I stroke her harder. Faster. Her clit pulses against my finger, and she whimpers but doesn’t answer.

  I freeze.

  Aileen’s a quick study, and she understands that if she answers me, I reward her, and if she doesn’t, I don’t.

  “Yes,” she admits in a choked whisper. “I… I have.”

  “Good girl. That’s a good answer.” I stroke her again. “What else do you think about?”

  “I think of… being taken from behind.”

  I chuckle at that. “Is that right, sweet girl? On your hands and knees?”

  “Yes,” she breathes. “I imagine that’s… that I’d feel dominated then.”

  “You would.” I’d see to that.

  “I fantasize about several men, sometimes,” she whispers. She continues without prompting, lifting her hips to meet my hand as I stroke faster. The way she’s panting and gripping me for support, I know she’s getting closer to climax. “One fucking me while the other… oh God… one eating me out while the other licked my nipples, or one fucking me from behind while the other worked my clit.”

  I will never share my wife with another soul. But I have other methods that will push her to the brink, make her feel various sensations while she climaxes over, and over, and over again.

  “You’re a dirty little girl.” I cluck my tongue. “I’ll have to punish you for that.” I circle the edge of her tight hole gently before returning to her clit.

  “No punishment,” she breathes.

  “You’ll learn to beg for that, too.”

  “Please, Cormac.”

  “Please what?”

  “Let me come.”

  I fondle her breast while I stroke her pussy, then whisper in her ear, “Come, Aileen. Do it. Let yourself go.” I tweak her nipple, then bite her neck. She throws her head back and moans. If I weren’t holding her up, I reckon she’d fall, she’s that overtaken by the bliss that races through her. She moans and pants, rocking her hips as I stroke her to completion until she slumps against me. Spent.

  “Good girl.” I kiss her cheek and spin her around to face me. On instinct, I draw her near and embrace her. “I love to make you come.”

  She drops her head to my chest and holds onto me but doesn’t speak. I give her just a moment to recover.

  “Let’s get you dressed now. I have to meet my brothers.”

  “What about…” her voice trails off.

  “Yes?”

  She places her hand on my hip. “What about you?” Her cheeks flush pink when she asks me that.

  “I’ll get mine later,” I promise with a wink that makes her giggle. Just when I think I can’t take her sass, or her feistiness, her temper or her mouth, she does something cute.

  By the time we get downstairs, many of my brothers have assembled in the dining room.

  Boner sees me first and sends up a loud, raucous cheer. “Welcome to the newlywed couple!” He bobs on his feet like an overexcited puppy, nearly spilling his tea.

  Nolan, standing by the buffet pouring himself a cup of coffee, grins at me. Caitlin and Keenan, sitting at the large dining room table, clap, and Tully, buttering a scone at the very end of the table, hoots. Aileen smiles shyly.

  I pull out a chair beside Caitlin and gesture for her to sit.

  “Tell me what you want and I’ll get it for you.”

  “I can get my own food,” she says, but I shake my head.

  She looks a little pink around the ears but doesn’t balk. She looks at the table laden with food. We often have a buffet-style meal in the morning, so that our men can eat on their own time. “Wow, that’s quite a spread. Okay… two scones, with butter, some clotted cream, a couple of fried eggs with some sausage, and some berries, please.”

  I nod while she pours herself a cup of tea, then pile the food on her plate.

  “Girls’ got an appetite,” Boner says approvingly in my ear.

  “Aye.” I’m glad that she does. I like a girl that can eat.

  “Hope she’s got another appetite as well,” he says with a wink.

  “Shut it, Boner,” I say, but can’t help but smile at him.

  He guffaws. “For Christ’s sake, would ya look at you, the feckin’ cat that caught the canary.”

  “Cat? Fuckin’ lion,” Nolan corrects with a snort.

  “Shut it.” There’s no avoiding talk of sex, but I don’t want Aileen to be embarrassed. I look back to where she sits. She’s busy in conversation with Caitlin.

  “Heard you brought evidence of yer claimin’ to the club, eh?” Nolan asks.

  “Aye. Had to.”

  “Also heard you busted her brother’s nose and gave him two black eyes.”

  “He’s fuckin’ lucky I let him live.”

  “Feckin’ wanker,” Boner says. “I hate the plonker.”

  “Same,” Nolan says on my right. His eyes twinkle at me. “Lucky for you, she wasn’t the one got hit with the ugly stick, aye?”

  I snort. “Ah, no.”

  “Told ya she was gorgeous,” Nolan says.

  I give him a warning look. “You did, but that’s the last fucking time you’ll speak of my wife’s looks.”

  Nolan sobers. “Aye, brother. Just pleased for you’s all. Hope to God she’s got more sisters.”

  But he’s joking. We’ve done our duty and will have no more unions with the Martins.

  We walk to the table, and I slide Aileen’s food in front of her. “Thank you,” she says with a small smile.

  I sit beside her and grab a napkin.

  “Cup of tea, Cormac?”

  “Please. Thank you, lass.”

  Keenan watches our exchange with interest.

  My mother enters the room, her gaze coming straight to me and Aileen. She smiles, but her eyes look tired.

  “Is mam alright, Keenan?” I ask him while she goes to fix herself a plate.

  Keenan sighs and scrubs a hand across his brow. “Dunno,” he admits. “She’s been troubled lately. Worries about us, you know.”

  “I’m telling you,” Caitlin says. “Let your mam watch over the baby. We don’t need that nanny. I don’t like her anyway. Always going on about educational opportunities and fine motor skills, when all the baby needs when so young is love and affection.”

  I don’t miss the way Aileen’s eyes cloud for a moment, before she turns back to her food and tucks in.

  “She got the best ratings, Cait,” Keenan says.

  “Aye,” Caitlin agrees. “But from whom? College professors or real life mothers?”

  Aileen snorts. “Good question,” she says. “The mothers will give it to you straight, won’t they?”

  The girls talk about nannies and children and babies, and Keenan looks my way. He speaks in a low voice, so the girls don’t overhear.

  “Heard you paid a visit to The Craic last night.”

  “Aye.”

  His gaze swings to Aileen. “Fulfilled your duty, then.”

  I nod. Mam comes to the table and sits across from the girls. She pours cream in her tea, then sips it thoughtfully with an appreciative sigh.

  “Mornin’, son.”

  I nod. “Mam.”

  “Will you be needin’ any of my help today? To show Aileen around the estate, maybe?”

  “Aye, thank you.” I’ll have her do that while we have our morning meeting.

  She nods and joins in conversation with the girls.

  Keenan takes the opportunity and leans in to me, lowering his voice to a whisper.

  “Cormac, a word.” He stands and gestures for me to follow him. We walk back to the buffet. I know what’s coming.

  Keenan crosses his arms and fixes me with a serious look. “Don’t blame you for lettin’ him have it, brother. But next time, do me a favor and ask me first.”

  I nod. I reckon he’s worried about blowback. �
�He won’t retaliate,” I tell him. “Made it clear it would be the last thing he did.”

  “Just the same, the Martins don’t play fair and never will. Don’t forget the only reason you have Aileen is because they paid tribute to us. Without your marriage, we’d be at war with the bastards. And they’ll do anything to save their own arses and pockets. Anything.”

  He’s right.

  “Aye,” I say with a nod. “You’re right.”

  He grins. “Tell me you made him wet his trousers.”

  “Made him feckin’ shite ‘em.” He nods with approval, and we go back to the table.

  Mam’s talking in her quiet voice to the girls, while Keenan and I tuck in. Nolan’s telling a crazy story, waving his hands around like a madman, and the men around him are laughing so hard they’re wiping tears from their eyes. Boner slaps his back and catches my eye, giving me a wink. Tully sprays tea all over the place when Nolan catches him off guard and he busts a gut laughing.

  These are my brothers. My family. My home. I grew up with these men. I knew that though we beat the tar out of each other and fought like dogs some days, that they’d have my back, and they do still. Mam oversaw the gentler side of our education, and Dad saw to the sterner side. We were raised to be ruthless, but we were raised to be loyal.

  What was Aileen’s upbringing like? She’s already revealed much. Shock that I’d protect her. Awe at our house. Surprise that I call the men of The Clan my brothers. How did they treat her?

  Aileen talks easily to mam and Caitlin, in between large bites of food.

  “Do you tend the garden?” she asks mam.

  “Some,” she says, with a bashful smile. “I’ve got help, but the flowers are all mine.” Though we have gardeners and staff that tend to our land, mam takes special pleasure in tending to the flowers.

  “Could you show me?” she asks.

  Mam looks to me, likely wondering if Aileen’s allowed. She knows how we work, and though she’s already asked if she can give her a tour of the estate, she needs my approval.

  I nod. “She can go after breakfast if the guard is with you.”

  The women are free to roam our grounds and often only have a guard with them if they leave. I want Aileen to get used to being watched, though. She’s too new here.

 

‹ Prev