January Girl (Wilder Irish Book 1)

by Mari Carr

  A soft mew distracted Caitlyn. “Oh!” She bent down and picked up his cat before he could warn her. “Where did you come from?”

  “Careful. She—” Lucas stopped mid-sentence, amazed when his typically mean-as-a-snake cat allowed Caitlyn to not only pick her up, but flip her to her back and rub her stomach.

  “Aren’t you a sweet thing?” Caitlyn cooed at his cat, stroking her as Callie purred loudly. When Caitlyn’s attention returned to him, he could see the genuine surprise in her expression. “I have to admit, I didn’t see you as a cat person.”

  He shrugged, trying to downplay how much the silly little ball of fluff meant to him. “She’s a stray. I found her down in the parking garage, more fleas than fur. I carried her up and fed her, intent on dropping her off at the animal shelter the next day. Obviously, that didn’t happen. She’s been here about six months and she’s sort of proclaimed the penthouse her domain. She tolerates me, lets me live here,” he joked.

  Caitlyn smiled, clearly delighted by his story. “That’s so sweet of you. What’s her name?”

  “I called her Calico at the beginning because as I said, I didn’t really intend to keep her. It’s been shortened to Callie since then. She doesn’t like strangers as a rule, so you might want to be careful. She scratched and bit my housekeeper the first couple of times the woman came to clean. Now they grudgingly give each other a wide berth.”

  Caitlyn shrugged, unconcerned. “She’s an absolute sweetheart.”

  Caitlyn nuzzled Callie, and Lucas enjoyed the image of her cuddling his cat. Then he saw her hand shake slightly, and he realized she was stalling. Time to start the game once more.

  “Put the cat down, Cait.”

  And just like that, the tension returned. Caitlyn had pushed him too far in the restaurant.

  He’d told her what he wanted from her, but she remained still. Caitlyn looked at him nervously before she finally bent to return Callie to the floor. When she stood up again, she made no move to undress.

  “I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

  He was pushing her too hard. If he kept up this aggressiveness, she would throw the safe word at him and leave.

  Or so he thought.

  Until Caitlyn turned her back to him and lifted her dress over her head, giving him a generous glimpse of her bare ass as she slipped off her heels. She wore thigh-high stockings, and for a second he considered telling her to leave them on. They were sexy as fuck on her trim legs. He reconsidered that command when she bent over to roll them off.

  Her ass was begging for his hand. His belt. Before the night ended, he fully intended to show her exactly what happened to a submissive who resisted her Dom’s control.

  Her back was still to him. She had to know that position would displease him. However, rather than correct her, he waited to see what she would do next.

  Within moments, her bra joined the rest of her clothing piled up on the floor.

  And then she turned.

  Her hands remained at her sides as she let him look his fill. Once again, he was taken in by her confidence. She was beautiful. And she knew it. Not in a showy, stuck-up sense. More like she had enough self-esteem to say, “I love who I am, flaws and all, and you can take it or leave it.”

  Someone had instilled a strong sense of self-worth in her.

  He was glad.

  And then he was undone.

  Caitlyn slid to her knees, parting them before resting her palms on her thighs face up. She’d done her homework. What she lacked in practical application, the intelligent woman had made up for in academic study.

  Lucas stood there, taking in the image for several minutes. Through it all, Caitlyn kept her eyes downward, and he sensed this moment was as powerful for her as it was for him.

  Unable to resist touching her, he walked over and cupped her cheek, guiding her face up until she was looking at him.

  Submitting to someone was as mental as it was physical. He wanted to make sure Caitlyn understood that. “Who does your body belong to?”

  She didn’t hesitate. “You.” And then, because Caitlyn still wasn’t finished fighting this—him—she quietly added, “For now.”

  With those two words, she sealed her fate. He reached down, gripping her upper arms to pull her to a stand. Retaining his firm hold on one arm, he tugged her toward a chair near the window. Within seconds, he had her facedown over his lap.

  Shock had allowed him to get her into the position fairly easily, but her stunned acquiescence was brief. Caitlyn pushed against his leg, intent on rising. He stopped her escape with a firm smack on her bare ass.

  “Ouch!”

  He spanked her again. And then again.

  He didn’t feel the need to give her a chance to accommodate or adjust. She knew how to stop this, knew what to say. Unless or until she said the safe word, he was going to show her exactly who she belonged to.

  And not just for now.

  “I’m going to kiss you, Caitlyn.”

  She had stopped trying to escape, her ass actually lifting in anticipation of his spanking, until he spoke.

  “No.”

  Lucas froze for a moment, her refusal shaking his calm. He would never hit a woman in anger. Though, when he considered it, it wasn’t anger he felt. At least not the way she might think. He didn’t give a shit that she was saying no to him. He was more upset that she was denying herself something that she clearly, desperately wanted.

  He leaned back in the chair and unfastened his belt, slipping it from the loops once more. Caitlyn’s ass was pink from his spanking. Her breathing was heavy and loud in the quiet room. She cried out when he doubled the leather belt and dragged it along her sore bottom.

  “I’m not going to respond to the word no, Cait.”

  She looked up at him, her lips pressed firmly closed.

  “I am going to kiss you. All night.”

  She shook her head, but she didn’t say the safe word.

  “What do you want?” he asked, knowing perfectly well how she’d reply.

  “The belt,” she choked out.

  Caitlyn wanted it, craved the pain, took immense pleasure in the sting, the bite. He’d give it to her. Jesus, he wanted it as much as she did. But not yet. Not until he’d made her understand what true submission meant.

  He gripped her arm with his free hand and twisted her until she was cradled in his lap. She winced, the spanking still fresh, still sore.

  “I’m going to kiss you,” he repeated. She wasn’t going to get what she wanted until he got his.

  Tears formed in the corners of her eyes. She’d take his commands, his belt, his rough touches, but not his kisses.

  Lucas refused to be denied. If she couldn’t bend on this, it was over. It would kill him to do it, but he would take her home and that would be it.

  He cupped her face in his hand. “I’m going to kiss you.” He tightened his grip to keep her from shaking her head again. Then he bent toward her and kissed her. Softly. Gently.

  There was no doubt she preferred a rougher kiss. A more demanding one.

  She proved that when she bit his tongue. Hard.

  He jerked away, but rather than respond the way she wanted, he pressed his lips against her cheek, sliding his mouth along the soft skin to her ear. He worshiped her with his lips, his mouth, his tongue.

  Caitlyn gripped his hair and pulled it, hard enough to make his scalp sting. He only gentled the kiss more, lightly sucking her earlobe into his mouth, teasing the tiny bit of flesh with his tongue.

  “Damn it, Lucas! Stop it.”

  “No.”

  She’d spoken every word except one. The one guaranteed to push him away. That told him that as much as she wanted to resist feeling something for him other than disdain, she was weakening. Starting to see him as something other than a monster.

  He’d lived a lifetime as LexLuthor. Lucas sort of liked the idea of playing Superman for once.

  She released his hair and gripped his shirt, tearing it apart
with a surprising amount of strength. Buttons flew, the material ripped. If she was trying to provoke a response, she was going about it the wrong way. Her actions were starting to amuse him. And God help him, turn him on. He’d dealt with brats before.

  Caitlyn moved toward his chest, biting him. It fucking hurt.

  He wrapped his fingers in her hair and pulled her face away from his chest, bent lower until they were eye to eye. “I’m going to kiss you.”

  This time, his words appeared to sink in. And take the wind out of her sails.

  “I need this to be just tonight. Just sex.”

  He grinned, even though he felt no humor. He’d lived his entire life having “just sex.” He was the master of it. In truth, if he were thinking clearly, he’d give her what she was asking for. Because it wouldn’t just keep her safe. It would protect him too.

  If he were a braver man, he would have spoken the truth. He would have said no to her request. But if he did that, she’d give him the safe word. He knew that with the same certainty he had that this affair wasn’t going to end as easily as all his previous ones.

  Two words could end it all right now. Before either of them got in too deep.

  All he had to say was no.

  All she had to say was blue.

  Neither of them spoke.

  Instead, he stood up with Caitlyn in his arms and carried her to his bedroom.

  5

  Caitlyn was torn between running and begging. If she had an ounce of self-preservation, she’d say her safe word and get the hell out of here. After all, the whole night had been one big fucked-up mistake. She’d lied to her family about her reasons for going out with Lucas, claiming she was merely playing spy.

  In truth, she’d gone out with him because she wanted what he could give her. Wanted it so badly, it nearly consumed her.

  Living so many years as an unfulfilled submissive had taken its toll on her. So much so, she was throwing herself into the arms of the enemy.

  That would be fine if she could keep her emotions contained, but Caitlyn was a Wallace and a Collins, which meant her genetic makeup was a dangerous blend of passion, insanity, falling fast, and stubbornness, laced with a healthy need for wild adventure.

  Fool that she was, she thought she’d beat those attributes into submission, willed them away by sheer determination. In just a few hours, Lucas had proved she didn’t have anything under control.

  Not. One. Damn. Thing.

  Least of all, this overwhelming attraction that was creeping out of the physical realm and into something a hell of a lot more dangerous. She was starting to like Lucas Whiting. Like really like him. He wasn’t at all what she’d expected.

  Well, that wasn’t entirely true. The guy was cocky, overbearing, selfish, rich as fuck—she still couldn’t quite believe the utter grandeur of this penthouse apartment—and far too used to getting his own way.

  But there was more there. Stuff that didn’t bother her, that actually tugged at her heartstrings and made her feel sympathy for him.

  Like the way he’d clearly loved and grieved for his brother, the part of him that had suffered under a cruel father and indifferent mother, the indescribable look in his eyes that told her he was probably very lonely, the fact that he took in a stray cat.

  God. That damn cat had thrown her for a loop.

  And more than that, he had a sense of humor, a pretty cool laugh, an intellect that seemed well suited to hers, and his kisses. Holy mother of macaroni. His kisses were something entirely out of this world. Heavenly.

  So, instead of squirming out of his hold and running for the hills, Caitlyn had tightened her grip around his neck and let him carry her to his bedroom. Like the damsel in distress she was about to become.

  Once they entered the room, he put her on her feet and stood behind her, her back pressed against his chest. She felt sort of bad for destroying his shirt. She was sure it cost a fortune.

  “Sorry about your shirt,” she murmured.

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “I can replace it.”

  “It’s Armani and cost five hundred dollars.”

  “Or maybe I could just sew the buttons back on.”

  He chuckled. It was hard to hold on to her guilt when Lucas wrapped his arm around her waist and tugged her tighter. She could feel his rock-hard abs against her back. The man was carved of stone—a Greek Adonis come to life.

  “It’s okay, Caitlyn.”

  His bedroom, not surprisingly, was elegantly decorated and screamed of wealth. She was fairly certain she could fit her family’s entire second-floor apartment in just this room, and she’d never seen a bigger four-poster bed in her life. “Do you need a GPS to find your way out of that bed every morning?”

  Rather than reply to her jest, Lucas kissed the side of her neck and her eyes drifted closed.

  Hello, erogenous zone.

  She sighed.

  “Go stand beside the bed, Cait. Keep your back to me.”

  Caitlyn’s body was moving before her brain could engage, could consider her actions with sound, well-thought-out reasoning.

  Apparently, wisdom wasn’t happening tonight. She was working with the visceral rather than the intellectual.

  Once she reached the bed, she couldn’t resist touching the silky, soft comforter. The room was decorated in dark blues, similar to his shirt. She would have pegged him as a starker black-and-white guy, so she was pleasantly surprised by the rich, deep color.

  She jumped slightly when something flashed over her head. She reached up as Lucas secured a blindfold over her eyes.

  “Lucas?”

  “Shhh. The safe word is still there to protect you.” He pressed her forward, encouraging her to climb onto the bed.

  “Lay on your back. Lift your arms above your head,” he instructed as he guided her into the position he wanted.

  Lucas knelt next to her. She wasn’t surprised when he buckled her wrists to the corner posts with straps. This bed was made for bondage.

  Her other senses were heightened by her lack of vision. She would have expected the utter blackness to be unnerving, but it was fueling her arousal, turning her on even more. A response she didn’t think possible, considering she was practically on system overload. The ice at the restaurant had done nothing to cool her needs.

  Between Lucas’s commands, the kneeling, the spanking and the way she still wanted to feel his leather belt against her ass, she was one light breeze away from coming hard enough to break bones.

  The bondage worked its magic. “God, Lucas. Please. Please fuck me. My whole body hurts.”

  She felt him move over her. Bastard still had his pants on. And the shirt. The ripped sides tickled her as he leaned closer, his lips hovering at her ear.

  “Telling me what to do only ensures that I won’t.”

  She was starting to figure that out. Even so… “Yeah, so I noticed. You realize leaving a girl hanging for this long is kind of a dick move.”

  “I thought the fact I was a dick was well established already.”

  “I thought we’d established asshole.” She didn’t appear to be winning this battle. And there was something in his tone that made her think maybe she’d hurt his feelings. “You’re not a complete dick,” she said, hoping to make him laugh.

  He didn’t, but there was definite humor in his tone when he said, “High praise. Cait?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Stop talking or I’ll gag you too.”

  Caitlyn bit her lip, seriously tempted to go for that. She only had tonight, and she really wanted to experience everything. The idea of a gag had her pussy clenching. Regardless, she held her tongue. She was already blindfolded and bound. If he added a gag to the mix, in addition to being completely helpless, she’d probably spontaneously combust.

  “Good girl,” he murmured when it was apparent she was going to obey. He placed a soft kiss on her cheek before drifting lower.

  He stroked her neck with his tongue, and then sett
led at her breasts. The gentle tenor he’d begun in the living room vanished and her dominant lover was back.

  Hallelujah.

  Rough, she could handle.

  He grasped one breast in his hand, kneading the flesh roughly, pinching her nipple, while his teeth sank into the other. He sucked, bit, pinched. He also caressed, licked and stroked. Every shard of pain he produced was soothed away.

  For several minutes, he guided her back and forth between pain and pleasure until she was gasping, crying and, despite his threat to gag her, begging him for mercy. And then for more.

  “Your tits are perfect,” he muttered. “Take a deep breath and hold it.”

  She didn’t have a clue what to expect, but she did as he said.

  “Shit,” she cried out when he placed the first nipple clamp in place. She didn’t need her eyes to know that was what he was using. She’d bought a pair for herself several years earlier. At first, she’d toyed with them on her own, using them whenever she masturbated. Then she’d shown them to Sammy, who’d told her they looked hot on her.

  Lucas wielded them with a hell of a lot more power.

  He didn’t seem to acknowledge or care about her cursing because he snapped the second clamp in place without hesitation. The chain that hung between them tickled her belly.

  “Oh my God.” She thrashed her head against the pillow, fighting against the straps around her wrists for the first time.

  “Have you ever considered having your nipples pierced?”

  She had. She’d even made an appointment to have it done once. But she’d backed out at the last minute.

  “I…yes,” she admitted.

  Lucas didn’t reply, and for the first time since he’d cinched the blindfold in place, she wished it were gone. She wanted to see his face, his eyes, wanted to know what he was thinking, feeling. He tugged on the chain a couple of times, gauging her reactions. And he got them.

  Caitlyn was slowly losing control. Which was obviously the point. She’d never felt like this. She was walking on a tightrope without a net. Or even one of those long poles for balance.