Tully: A Dark Irish Mafia Romance: Dangerous Doms

by Henry, Jane

  But, no. She’s just got a nasty bug is all.

  I shoot my brothers a text.

  McKenna’s sick. Anyone else sick from dinner last night?

  We all ate in the main dining room, so we’d know.

  One by one, replies come in.

  No, brother.

  Not us.

  Nope.

  All fine.

  She’s groaning, shaking her head from side to side. “No. God no, I can’t do this. No way.” She’s in a full blown panic.

  “Everyone says they’re fine,” I tell her with a sigh. “It wasn’t the food, lass.”

  She closes her eyes and clutches her stomach. “It feels different,” she says. “God, I feel so fucking awful.”

  “I’m calling Maeve.”

  I expect her to protest, but she doesn’t. She nods mutely, still white as a ghost when a knock comes at the door. I open the door to Sebastian as Maeve answers the phone. I briefly explain the situation to her.

  “I’ll be right there.”

  Sebastian’s in with McKenna. I pace the floor in front of the bed, watching him take her vitals.

  “Give her a pregnancy test,” I manage to say, my tone gruff.

  Sebastian smirks. “Tully, I’ve come fully prepared.”

  McKenna groans.

  A knock comes at the door a few minutes later, just as we’re supposed to get the result from the test. I answer it to see Maeve beaming on the other side, though her eyes are filled with concern. She can’t mask her excitement, though.

  “How is she?”

  I shrug. “She’s been better. Come in.”

  I usher her in as a high-pitched scream comes from the bathroom. “Tully! Oh my God, Tully!”

  I can’t get there fucking fast enough. I nearly tear the door off the hinges going to her, my mind racing with ways she could’ve injured herself or dangers that could’ve assaulted her, and her wide, shocked gaze meets mine.

  My heartbeat thunders. I blink. “You okay?”

  She sits on the toilet seat, buries her head on her arms, and holds up the test for me to see. I don’t need to read it, though. She’s sobbing, the poor lass.

  She’s pregnant.

  A strange sense of pride and a burning need to protect her and our future child consumes me.

  “You’re pregnant, McKenna?” I ask, my voice strangely choked. “Are you?”

  She nods into her arm.

  “Bloody hell.” I can barely speak. I drop to one knee in front of her, and she looks up at me through tear-filled eyes. Her lower lip wobbles.

  “This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not like this. Not until…”

  I frame her face in my hands, holding her gaze.

  “I know, lass. But sometimes these things happen. And whatever comes, I promise you…”

  She blinks, and a tear rolls down her cheek.

  “…I will give my everything to you and our baby. I will devote my every waking moment to taking the very best care of you two that I can.”

  Her eyes soften, and her hands come over mine. “I know you will,” she whispers. “I know it.”

  Then she breaks into heartbreaking sobs. I hold her to me, until her shoulders stop shaking, and she finally stills. The poor lass, she didn’t want this, not at all.

  “Come on,” I say, getting to my feet and taking her hand. “Let’s tell Sebastian and see what he can do for you.” We’ve many things to discuss, not the least of which is how we’ll go about making her a claimed woman of the Clan.

  When we go back in the main room, Maeve and Sebastian are talking to each other. They quiet when we enter the room. Maeve grins and Sebastian looks sober.

  “I’m assuming the results are a positive?” he says.

  “Aye,” McKenna says, and that quickly she breaks into sobs again.

  “Oh, sweet girl,” Maeve says, getting to her feet. She quickly goes to McKenna and gathers her up in her arms. “We’ll take care of you the best we can, I promise.”

  “I know,” McKenna sobs. “That’s partly why I’m crying. I know you will. And I—” she breaks into fresh sobs. “I don’t deserve you all.”

  Sebastian looks at me, and I look at him, both of us at a loss for words.

  I will literally never understand women. Ever.

  Sebastian gives McKenna some medicine to aid the nausea, and Maeve comes up from the kitchen with a tray and some salted crackers. “This will help, love.” She smiles to herself.

  “Maeve’s been caretaker to many of the women of the Clan,” I tell her.

  “Aye,” McKenna says with a smile. “I bet.”

  Maeve beams. “Caitlin was the first, then Aileen. Aileen’s was a difficult story. She was pregnant with Cormac’s baby, but she suffered amnesia from a head injury and couldn’t remember who he was at first.”

  “Are you bloody kidding me?” McKenna says, her jaw unhinged.

  “No,” Maeve says with a laugh. “Fiona was the last, of course, but being who she is, she studied everything she could to prepare for childbirth and had a ready supply of remedies and supplements before she found she was with child.”

  I chuckle. “Course she did. Didn’t need Gran’s help?”

  She grins, her chest expanding. “They always need Gran, though I have to admit, Lachlan was prepared himself, as well.” Though Lachlan and Fiona aren’t related to Maeve, she’s adopted all of the brotherhood as her children.

  McKenna looks troubled.

  “Are you feeling better?”

  She nods. “That medicine works wonders, doesn’t it?”

  “Oh, aye. They didn’t have that when I had my babies.” Her eyes grow a little wistful, and I remember the little graves that sit in the cemetery of St. Albert’s. I suspect they have remedies these days to prevent the many miscarriages she suffered as well.

  “Now, I hear today’s a special day, McKenna? Let’s make our plan for your mum’s visit, and we have about nine more months to worry about the baby.”

  McKenna smiles, but the smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “Aye. Absolutely. But I have to ask you two to please keep this quiet for now?”

  “Of course,” Maeve says. “And Sebastian will as well.”

  I have to be honest with her. “The only person I’ll have to tell is Keenan. He’ll want to know what our plans are. In fact, I’ll ask for a meeting now.”

  She pauses for a few seconds, then nods.

  I shoot him a text. Need to speak to you soon.

  “You’ll tell him we need to discuss our plans, Tully?”

  What?

  “What do you mean?”

  She blinks, her pretty eyes magnified behind her glasses, and I recognize that little splotch of pink on her cheeks that frequently indicates she’s getting riled up about something.

  “Our plans,” she says. “How we’ll handle the baby, given that I’m not a claimed woman of the Clan, and how that impacts your brotherhood.”

  I look at her in confusion. “But you will be a claimed woman, of course.”

  “What do you mean by that?” she asks, her hands on her hips.

  Her eyes flash, and my own temper ignites.

  Is she out of her mind? “McKenna. You’re carrying my child.”

  “So?”

  So?

  Maeve walks with Sebastian to the door. “I’ll just be letting myself out then—”

  “What exactly does that mean?” she asks, glaring at me now. “You didn’t ask me to carry your child. You never even asked me to be your girlfriend, never mind a claimed woman!”

  The door shuts. Maeve and Sebastian are gone.

  I shake my head, half furious, half shocked. “Well, what the bloody hell do you plan on doing? Raising your child as a single mum and relying on my check to be the father figure?”

  She blinks. “I didn’t say that!”

  “Not two minutes ago you were sobbing and saying how you’re eager to be one of us, and now you’re acting like I just sprouted a second head!”


  We argue like this for full minutes, neither of us really saying anything new. We’re at an impasse. I think she has no choice, carrying my baby. She’s to be a claimed woman of the Clan, no question. It’s the only way both she and our baby will receive full Clan protection, and all the benefits the Clan has to offer. Even if we didn’t have strict code we adhere to, the citizens of Ballyhock and our rivals need to be considered as well. She’ll be so much more heavily protected as a claimed woman, married to me.

  She’s convinced that we don’t live within the rules of the Clan, that she can walk away from this and raise our child as “co-parents,” whatever the fuck that is.

  “What if I don’t want to be a claimed woman of the Clan?!” she shouts, literally standing in front of me with her hands on her hips like a furious little sprite.

  “And what if I don’t want my woman and child to be wandering the streets of Ballyhock and teaching at the goddamn school without Clan protection?”

  Another, much louder knock comes at the door and McKenna fumes. “Bloody hell! Who’s that?”

  “Probably Keenan,” I say, pointing a finger at her. “And let me tell you this right now, woman. You’ll speak to the Chief with respect or land yourself belly down over my knee with my palm across your arse.”

  She fumes. “You cannot spank a pregnant woman!”

  “Watch me.”

  I stomp to the door, actually not at all sure if I can spank a pregnant woman, but hell if she isn’t tempting the fuck out of me.

  I open the door to find Keenan standing on the other side. His brows are raised slightly.

  I sigh. “You heard us, then.”

  He strokes his beard, his eyes dancing. “Aye. Pretty sure the whole house heard it, truth be told.”

  I give a half-groan, half-chuckle as I open the door wide for him to come in. “Don’t need to tell you she’s pregnant then.”

  “Nope.”

  “Nor that she’s no interest in being claimed.”

  Keenan grimaces. “Caught that.” He knows as well as I do the ramifications of this.

  McKenna’s standing in the doorway, still in her robe. She holds her head erect and speaks coolly.

  “Good day, Mr. McCarthy.”

  I roll my eyes. She took my admonition literally, then, as she’s showing Keenan respect.

  Keenan nods to her. “McKenna.”

  She tightens the belt on her robe and walks in the room. “Cup of tea?”

  “No, thank you,” Keenan says. He takes a seat by one of the large, bright windows. “McKenna, I’m sorry to admit that I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation with Tully just now.”

  “Oh?”

  “Aye,” he says soberly. “Congratulations, lass.”

  She turns a little pink. “Thank you.” She puts the kettle on and takes out cups for me and for her, then the box of tea. “I’m still a little stunned, but thankful Sebastian gave me some medication.”

  “Aye, good,” Keenan says.

  “We’re having a difference of opinion,” I tell him.

  Keenan frowns. “Heard that as well.”

  McKenna crosses her arms on her chest. “And I suppose you’re on his side?”

  Keenan nods. “Oh, aye. Sorry to tell you, McKenna, but we wouldn’t allow a woman carrying a child of the Clan to go about without Clan protection.”

  She nods. “Fair enough. That I understand. But this notion that I’m to be claimed, just like that, without any say in the matter?”

  Keenan shrugs. “I wouldn’t say you have no say. I definitely would prefer your buy-in.” He sobers. “But aye, given the current climate in Ballyhock, it would be my strong suggestion to ensure that your safety and that of your child’s secured.”

  She huffs and sits heavily on a chair, just as the kettle boils. “You’re so old-fashioned.”

  He shrugs. “We’ve heard that from other women before, if I’m honest.”

  “Probably all of them.”

  He frowns again. “Not all.”

  I clear my throat and give her a warning look. She sighs and looks out the window.

  “You need to understand, McKenna,” Keenan continues. “There’s no greater way for us to protect you than to have you wed to a man of the Clan. We’ve rivals that would hurt you, and by virtue of wearing his ring, you are granted McCarthy family immunity in more ways than we could ever grant you otherwise.”

  “Exactly,” I say, glaring at her. “So fucking marry me.”

  Her brows snap together. “How fucking romantic.”

  Keenan cringes. “Ah, well then…”

  None of us says anything for long seconds.

  Keenan gets to his feet. “I advised you not to make a prisoner out of her, Tully,” he finally says. “And I have to admit, I’ve regretted that advice.” He gives McKenna a stern look.

  Her eyes widen, and her jaw drops.

  “What do you mean?” she asks.

  “I’ve already explained, but I’ll make this very clear. Now isn’t the time for you to be carrying a child of the Clan without full Clan protection.”

  She shakes her head, as he goes to leave.

  “But marriage is for life, Keenan,” she protests, and I have to admit that stings a little. Is it the thought of lifelong marriage or the thought of marriage to me she finds so abhorrent?

  Keenan nods. “It is.”

  “But we barely know each other.”

  Keenan smiles, and the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He’s running out of patience. “You know each other better than half the men and women of the Clan did before they met. You’re hardly an arranged marriage, are you?”

  “Well, no, but I—”

  “You’re not prisoner, are you?”

  She looks at him incredulously. “Prisoner! Certainly not.”

  He nods sternly, every bit the Clan patriarch. “You made the decision to enter into relations with a man of the Clan. Whether you want to admit that or not, you had your reasons.”

  She stares at him, agape, and doesn’t respond.

  Keenan presses on. “Full autonomy and the freedom of choice are something people outside of the Clan are afforded, McKenna. Within the Clan, we adhere to rules and structure others don’t. But in turn, we grant those who enter the fold the loyalty, love, protection, and family most would only ever dream of.”

  She closes her mouth, and her eyes grow a little wistful. Keenan lets his words sink in for a moment before changing the subject.

  “Your mum’s coming today, isn’t she?” Keenan asks her.

  “Aye,” McKenna says with a sigh.

  Keenan gets to his feet. “Then I’ll leave you two to talk things out, so you can prepare. And Tully, you and I will chat later.”

  “Aye.”

  He leaves, and McKenna and I stare at each other for a moment.

  She sighs, and I want to reach for her, to drag her into my lap and hold her. Her glasses are perched on her nose, her hair’s in a messy bun on the top of her head, and the way she’s sitting, her robe’s a little open.

  “There’s a shortage of perfect breasts in the world,” I mutter.

  She grins. “The Princess Bride! Tully!”

  I chuckle, and reach for her, dragging her onto my lap. She nestles in like she was created to fit there.

  She pouts a little. “I suppose I didn’t earn a spanking, then? Did I behave well enough for you, hmm?”

  I lift her robe and pinch her bottom. She squeals. “You were a very well-behaved lass. This time.”

  Resting her head on my chest, she sighs. “There’s a lot to think about.”

  I hold her to me. “Aye, lass. There is. For now, let’s get ready to meet your mum.”

  She moves a little closer to me, as if she wants to be held even tighter. To my surprise, her voice is husky with arousal when she whispers, “Oh?” She swallows hard. “Don’t we have a little… time?”

  I roll over on the couch and nestle her onto the pillows.

  “Oh,
we have time.”

  * * *

  Chapter 12

  McKenna

  When Tully fucks, he fucks hard.

  What Tully wants, Tully gets.

  I’ve been spanked and punished, tied up, plugged, caned, and fingered. He’s fucked my pussy with his fingers, his tongue, and his seriously magnificent cock over, and over, and over again.

  But this… this sweet, sultry seduction is a sort of make-up sex just minutes after we discover we’ve conceived… damn if I don’t love every damn minute.

  He leans me back and feathers kisses all over my forehead, my temple and my cheeks, like he’s worshipping me with his lips. Slowly, he carefully removes my robe as if he’s unwrapping a precious jewel from its wrappings. I shiver when cool air graces my naked skin, but soon the warmth of his body’s over mine.

  “No condoms now,” he whispers in my ear. I shiver in delight.

  “No condoms.”

  He parts my legs and fingers me until I’m keening with need and panting hard, then he pushes down his pajama bottoms and grabs his hard cock. He glides between my folds, teasing me until my hips jerk, I’m that eager for his cock.

  “Please, Tully. Fuck me.”

  Holding my gaze, he enters me in one firm, perfect push, and the breath whooshes out of my lungs. He’s so perfect.

  “Oh, God,” I groan, as I wrap my legs around him and he holds me to his chest. Slowly, with careful deliberation, he strokes in and out. It’s so unlike our hard or passioned lovemaking that it makes my throat tighten. There’s a sweetness about making love to Tully I want to savor.

  His broad shoulders, his powerful form, held at bay on purpose. It takes a strong, dominant man to fuck a woman boneless. It takes a gentleman to make love. Tully’s both.

  I clench around him, panting, as he works a rhythm of perfection, frissons and zings of arousal skating through me, until I’m so close I can taste it.

  “Tully,” I pant.

  “McKenna.” His voice is deep and guttural, affected. I hold my breath, and with one final stroke, I shatter. Pleasure bursts through me, and I moan as I climax, his own groans of pleasure filling the room.

  “Fucking gorgeous,” he says, kissing my cheek. I smile softly to myself. He’s gentler now that he knows I have a baby.