by Henry, Jane
“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 only just graduated sixth year, and barely started uni. None of our other mates are married, and none are even affiliated with the McCarthy clan.
I started school in America, and Fiona joined me, but we were brought back to Ballyhock for safety. Fiona’s brother Tiernan came to get me. I went willingly, because Fiona fairly begged me. Said I wasn’t safe on campus, and wanted me home.
I didn’t want to be there without my best mate anyway. So I came home with him.
He barely spoke to me, but I suppose he had other things on his mind. There were attacks on the Clan, he said. Some insidious, some not so much. Keenan, Clan Chief, thought it best I come home for now.
“They’re getting married,” Tiernan said. I didn’t need to ask him who. Lachlan’s had his eyes on Fiona for as long as I can remember.
I tried to keep my head on straight. Tiernan’s my best mate’s brother, and I won’t look at the way his shoulders are all muscled and strong and covered in McCarthy family ink. The way his jaw clenches in concentration, or the way people look at him when he walks by. The way full-grown men give him a wide berth when he comes on campus or to the airport with me. The way he takes my bags without question and gives me a withering look when I ask if I can help. The McCarthy men are intimidating as hell.
And I like it.
Today I go alone to their wedding. I know a few of the women here, friends of Fiona’s. There’s Megan, the Clan cousin and wife to Carson, and Fiona’s sister Sheena, married to Nolan. Those two were like second parents to Fiona and Tiernan, and little Sam. Megan waves to me, and I sit beside her. Carson gives me a smile and a nod in greeting.
How I’d love to be welcomed into the fold of a family like this. At least I think I would. I’ve seen how Lachlan commands things with Fiona. He’s the leader of the house, and I’m not sure I like that. Keenan’s no exception, as Clan Chief. These men are old-fashioned and principled. I know they do… some things… outside the law, but in Ballyhock, they’re revered.
I watch Fiona and Lachlan take their vows, and for one brief moment, my reservations about the McCarthy clan are forgotten. He looks at her with utter devotion in his eyes. I don’t miss the way Carson holds Megan’s hands during the vows, or the way Keenan tightens his arm around his own wife’s shoulders. Clan matriarch Maeve, mother to Keenan and a few of the brothers, wipes tears from her eyes when the newlyweds kiss for the first time.
I have no gran who’ll cry at my wedding. I’ll have no brothers or sisters in my wedding party. I have none of the riches Fiona has now.
Oh, she looks lovely, like an angel on earth, with her gossamer dress and vibrant red hair, fair skin, and bright eyes. I want to kiss her myself. Lachlan tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear, leans in, and kisses her forehead.
That’s it. No matter what I once thought of the man, he loves my friend, and I have to love him for that.
The reception’s a magnificent affair, right on the grounds of the mansion. A large tent’s set up, tables laden with delectable food, and music filters through speakers. A fountain bubbles over with bubbly beside a table set with crackers, cheese, and antipasto. My stomach growls with hunger, so I fill my plate. Megan waves me over to a table, and I gratefully take my seat.
“This is delicious, I say with a groan. The crackers are light and buttery, the cheese tangy and creamy, the cured meats and olives some of the best I’ve ever had.
“Oh, aye,” Megan says, taking hearty bites herself. “Nolan knows some people in Spain.”
I stifle a snort. Of course they’d have Spanish food imported for an event like this. “Have you tried the hot hors d'oeuvres yet?”
I shake my head, and Megan waves down one of the waitstaff. My eyes go wide at silver trays of stuffed mushrooms, little squares of spanakopita, and tiny little meatballs with toothpicks in them.
“I won’t have an appetite for much else if I eat this,” I say to Megan, but her gaze is at the entrance to the garden.
“Ah, the couple arrives,” she says, and stands. We cheer and hoot and holler as Mr. and Mrs. Lachlan McCarthy are introduced. Then the couple takes their first dance.
“Go,” Megan says to me.
I look at her, startled. “Excuse me?”
“Go,” she whispers, gesturing toward Tiernan. “He needs a dance partner, and you don’t want that stupid twat Leesa to get him, do you?”
That “stupid twat” was a friend of mine I had lost touch with. I snort.
“What do you have against Leesa?”
Megan rolls her eyes. “She knows everything there is to know, that’s what. Stuck up little thing. I don’t want her near Tiernan.”
My brows rise. “Really?”
“Really,” Megan says. “Now get on over there, and I bet he’ll ask you to dance.”
I frown at her. “And if he doesn’t?”
Megan groans. “I’ll kick his arse.”
Sure she will.
I get up at her prompting and walk over to him tentatively. Some of the other men of the Clan are dancing, but Tiernan watches them all, his eyes sharp and stern.
“Hello, Tiernan.”
He turns and looks at me as if for the first time. He blinks, then drags his gaze down from my eyes to my dress, then quickly back up again.
“Aisling. You look lovely tonight.”
He turns his gaze away. I don’t know if I’m pleased or not.
“Thank you,” I say, my voice wavering a little. “Are you… going to dance?” I ask him, immediately wishing I could take it back. This is not how this was supposed to go.
“I don’t dance…” he begins, t
hen follows it with a shrug, “much.”
I nod. “I don’t either, but Megan said I should come over and ask you.”
I’ll throw her under the bus then.
He looks to me, his expression changing. A corner of his lips quirks up. “Did she?”
He looks over his shoulder at Megan, who’s gesturing madly and making motions for us to go to the dance floor.
“She’s crazy,” I mutter.
“Absolutely mad,” he agrees with a chuckle. Then he sighs. “Suppose it couldn’t hurt.”
I look at him in surprise. “Well, don’t act like you’re doing me a favor,” I snap. The nerve! I turn to walk away, ignoring Megan, when I feel his hand on my arm.
My reaction’s instant. It’s the first time he’s ever touched me. His touch is warm, possessive, and insistent, sending frissons of awareness and a tingle of excitement straight through me. My eyes widen as I look to him.
“Shut it, Aisling, and get out on the dance floor. One dance won’t kill us.”
“Oh, aren’t you the romantic,” I mutter, while the next moment he’s sweeping me onto the floor.
Aisling
The way he touches me, the way he holds me, the sharp pain he delivers from his palm, somehow keeps me in the present, keeps me centered right here, right in this moment. Keeps the demons that have plagued me… quiet.
Silently, he pushes me onto the bed and reaches for the bedside table. He draws out the cuffs, and I freeze, but he only bends and kisses my forehead.
“Trust me.”
I nod. He positions me on the bed on my back, takes my wrists above my head, and fastens the metal cuffs. They clink into place, and his eyes darken. Once my wrists are secured, he bends and kisses me again, a gentle brush of his lips to mine. My body still trembles, my breathing’s hitched, as he lowers my joggers and kisses the uppermost part of my thigh.
His eyes darken as he pushes himself up, lifts my legs, and smacks my bare arse with his palm.
I gasp, but before I’ve recovered from the hard spank, his mouth is at my pussy, his tongue at my folds. I move my hands to push him away, forgetting for a moment that they’re in cuffs.
“Tiernan, no,” I say. It’s too intimate, too private, and I’ve never felt anything quite like that before. That earns me another hard slap to the arse and a raised brow.
“No? Are you allowed to say that to me?”
I’m bloody well not. My mouth goes dry, and I close my eyes as his mouth goes back there, between my legs, where it seems all the heat of my entire body is focused. He drags the tip of his tongue through my sensitive, throbbing parts, and my hips rise of their own accord. He suckles and laves, laps and sucks until I can’t take it anymore. My climax overtakes me, and I scream his name as I come. My body gives way to ecstatic spasms of pleasure.
The pain and torture that wracks my body’s momentarily forgotten in the aftermath of climaxing. I let my sex-sated eyes wander over his body uninhibited.
“You’re the sexiest fucking man I’ve ever seen,” I say in a throaty whisper. A corner of his lips tips up. I reach for the bulge in his trousers, eager to pay him back, and he groans.
I swallow hard. “Let me… suck you off? Please, Tiernan.” God, it’s the least I can do after all he’s done, and I’m literally dying to get a taste of him. “Please.”
He unfastens the cuffs, eying me.
“Are you going to behave yourself?”
“Mmm,” I say, pushing off the bed and falling to my knees in front of him. “I’ll be… I’ll do whatever it is you want me to.”
‘Good girl’ is hard for me. No one’s ever called me that before, and I don’t know how to handle it. It makes me feel dirty and wicked when he calls me that, because it’s a name that doesn’t belong to me.
He swallows hard. “You don’t have to do this.”
“I bloody well have to,” I say, frowning at him. My voice cracks. “Please. I need to. I need to thank you somehow.”
In my mind, I whisper the words I can’t say out loud.
Let me do this before the demons come back.
My heart thunders when he fists my hair, my long blonde curls wrapped around his large, strong fingers.
“Christ,” he grates, all semblance of gentleness gone. “Wanted to do that for fucking ever.”
He… did?
My heart thunders, and this time it isn’t a fight or flight symptom. It isn’t my body begging for another hit, or my blood pumping through my veins in protest. This time, my response is instinctive and eager, and my mouth waters at the prospect of what I’m about to do.
“You… wanted to pull my hair?” I ask. My eyes meet his, and his grip tenses, sending pain prickling along my scalp.
He jerks my head toward his cock, his eyes focused on me.
“Fucking yes. Now take me out.”
I’m trembling with anticipation as he guides my head toward his thighs. My fingers fumble at his waist until his trousers spring open. I swallow hard as I reach for his cock.
I’ve wanted this. Oh, God, I’ve wanted this, to please him, to taste him, for this intimate connection that went beyond what we’ve had here in this room, our time together little more than patient and ward.
His cock is stiff and thick, a dot of precum on the very tip making my mouth water. He yanks my hair and drags my mouth toward him.
“Suck it,” he orders. He’s held himself back now for days, but it seems he’s ready for more. Now that he’s unleashed himself on me, there’s no holding him back.
I eagerly open my mouth and take his length in fully, relishing the way he moans, his voice thick and affected when he groans, “Yes, babe. Just like that. Christ, yes, baby.”
Baby.
Babe.
Oh, God, I like that. I like that a lot.
I run my tongue along his veined length, eager for every sound he makes, when he yanks my head back and forth. He thrusts his hips, controlling even this, fucking my mouth like he’s wanted to. I fucking love it. My eyes water, and I gag, but he doesn’t stop. I relax, letting him fill me with his length. I run my fingers beneath his cock and cup his bollox, making him groan and fuck my mouth even harder.
My own body teems with pleasure and heat as he thrusts and I suckle, until his body quakes, and I know he’s going to come.
“Take it,” he growls. “Take every fucking drop.”
I hold his gaze, smiling around his cock, as he drops his head back, groans, and comes. I suck him down, swallowing eagerly, his hot, salty essence marking me. I want this to be good for him, I want him to thank him for what he’s done. I swallow all of him down until his grip in my hair slackens and his hand comes to rest on my cheek.
I release him with reluctance, and lay my cheek against his bare leg. I close my eyes. For this one moment, my symptoms are abated.
I just blew Tiernan Hurston, and I won’t ever fucking forget it.
“That was fucking brilliant,” he says, stroking my cheek. “Christ, woman, if I knew you could blow me like that…”
His voice grows hoarse, and I giggle, then sigh.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, still stroking my cheek.
“Other than horny as fuck again? Pretty damn brilliant. You?”
He lifts my chin and holds my gaze. His eyes are brighter. “Better than I have in a long fucking time. Now get on that bed and spread your legs, and I’ll return the favor.”
Again? Jesus.
I’m so ready, so eager, I come on his tongue in record time, then we lie in bed naked and sated. I think we doze off for a little while, but I wake to him nuzzling my breasts and licking my nipples, and before I know what’s happening, my hand is wrapped around his cock and he’s stroking my clit until I come so hard my body’s nearly paralyzed, just before he comes all over my tits.
“Fucking gorgeous,” he says, cleaning me off.
We climb under the sheets, tangled in each other’s limbs, until the sun rises.
I know he’s awake b
ecause he reaches for my fingers, entwining mine with his.
“Y’alright, babe?”
I sigh. It’s the first morning in fucking months that I haven’t woken up hungover, high, or in need of a fix.
“Better than I’ve been in a really long time,” I whisper. “A really, really long time.”
My body’s ready to go again, but I don’t want him to get me off. I want him in me.
“Can you fuck me for real, Tiernan? None of this oral or finger play this time. I want that thick, fat cock of yours in me.”
He smiles. “You want to be well and properly fucked then, is it?”
I nod. “Well and properly fucked. Yes. Yes, yes, yes!”
“Fucking climaxing before I’ve even touched you?” He grins.
I give him my most innocent smile. “Please?”
“Well then, if you put it that way,” he says with a laugh. He rolls over and opens his wallet that sits on the bedside table. He takes out a condom. “We can arrange that. Need a change of scenery, though, babe.”
I blink in surprise. “Oh?”
“We’ve done nothing but screw around in this bed. I want you to ride me, in my living room, while the sun rises behind you.”
I grin. “Won’t someone see us?”
He shakes his head. “Hell no. Not from that angle. Plus the curtains will keep us private.”
“If you say so…” I roll off him and walk toward the living room. Honest to God, I’ve hardly looked beyond the walls of this room since I got here. I peek out the door, and feel my eyes go wide. There’s so much to see here. Books upon books stacked on bookshelves, and a whole section of workout equipment. Free weights and an exercise bike, bands and bars.
“Those muscles weren’t given you by God, then?”
He snorts. “Hell no. I’ve earned them my own damn self.”
I turn and give him a nod. “I approve.”
He gives my arse a teasing slap. I squeal and trot out, stark naked, into his living room. Bright tendrils of pink and gold paint the walls from the sunrise just outside the window. One beam of light hits my bare chest. I turn and tip my head at him.
“This what you wanted, big guy?”