Hot Male

by Lillian Grant

  Meg frowned. “Why am I naked and you’re still dressed.”

  “Five.”

  “Five what?”

  “Six. Six times you’ve disobeyed me. What happened to your manners?”

  His blue eyes were dark and dangerous. The game had moved up a notch. She melted under his stare. “Sorry, sir.”

  “Seven.”

  “But?”

  “Eight.”

  She clamped her mouth shut. He wasn’t playing fair but she’d take her lumps, and God help her, she would enjoy the feel of his hands on her bare arse.

  “Roll over and get on your knees, arms above your head.”

  She glanced at the top of the stairs. With her butt in the air, just the way Sam liked it, her rear end and her pussy would be an eyeful for anyone who happened to walk in.

  “He’s not coming back. Relax. Now turn over.”

  Sam climbed off the bed and stood with his arms folded. He was probably right. Michael was busy and she was safe. No way did she want to put on another show for that man. He’d seen way too much of her and Sam having sex already. Her pussy clenched as she remembered the look in his eyes and the feel of his leather-clad body pressed against her as he freed her from the St Andrews cross at the bar. He’d enjoyed the fact Sam had handcuffed her without checking to see if they had the keys, if the hard length he’d pressed against her had been any indication. But she had hated him coming to her rescue and had found the feel of him against her distasteful. She bit her bottom lip and held back a whimper as her body convulsed again.

  Chapter 22

  Rosalie placed a pot of tea, two cups and saucers, milk, sugar and a large fruitcake on the table. Michael inhaled deeply and sighed at the sweet aroma. He’d forgotten what a wonderful cook she was.

  “I’ll take the Father a cup and some cake and then we can have a lovely chat.”

  She shuffled out of the room, and he let out a loud sigh. He didn’t want a chat. He wanted to go back to Australia and pretend he hadn’t met Shannon or Brigit. Either, or both, of them had the power to turn his whole life on its head. Men with responsibilities didn’t drive sports cars with the number plate HARD ON, they didn’t take their clothes off for a living, and they didn’t hide on the other side of the world. Could he bear to live in Ireland? Or London? Was he ready to settle down?

  “Penny for them?”

  He glanced up at Rosalie. “What?”

  “Your thoughts. You were miles away. Is something bothering ya?”

  “No nothing.” He tried for a smile, not sure if he nailed it or not.

  She poured the tea and passed him a cup along with a slice of cake. “I’m not the ogre ya think I am.”

  “I don’t think you’re an ogre. You’re my favorite aunt.”

  “Get away with ya, lad. You’ve never darkened my door once since your ma sent ya to get straightened out. You spent a whole summer with me and disappeared back to Australia once you’d done your penance. I don’t see any of my relatives for years and then suddenly you’re all clamoring to stay out here.”

  Michael lifted an eyebrow. Here was a chance to avoid having a conversation about the summer he spent with her and what had happened with Brigit, and to find out some information about Declan. Not that she needed to know his arrival was in the least bit connected with his runaway uncle. “How’s that?”

  “Your Uncle Declan is staying in the other cottage.” She lifted her teaspoon and pointed it at him. “Not that ya heard it from me.”

  “Is it a secret?”

  “He wanted some solitude to mourn his loss.”

  Oh God, Maud must have had a heart attack and died. Mind you, if she popped her clogs halfway through a vigorous bout of sex with a man in his sixties, the octogenarian no doubt died a happy woman. Maggie might not agree, and her mother Vivienne would be mortified if they returned to Australia with the old lady in a casket. On the upside, Aunt Clara would be delighted, although she wouldn’t be happy at having missed her chance to do the old bat in herself.

  “His loss?”

  “Your Aunt Clara, God rest her soul.” Rosalie crossed herself. “The poor man is broken and his own health is in decline. He wanted to return to Ireland and spend his last days with those who love him.”

  “Clara’s dead? Jeez, her demise must have been sudden.”

  “Heavens above, what kind of a country is Australia when a man has to travel to the other side of the world to hear the aunt who lives in the same town as him is dead. Such a thing would never happen here. Next you’ll be telling me they don’t hold wakes.”

  If Clara was dead the heat was off. It was no skin off his nose if Maud missed her court date. The Irish police, garda, could worry about getting her back to Sydney to face the pandering charges. Maud would be Maggie’s problem, and he was free to go home without talking to Brigit. “When did she die?”

  “Declan says it was a month ago. She was such a lovely woman. So kind and caring; still volunteering to visit the less fortunate in jail right up until she couldn’t get out of bed. I’m sure she’ll be missed.”

  “Aunt Clara? Kind and caring? Are you sure you’ve got the right woman?” And as for visiting the less fortunate in jail, only when she was on remand for causing grievous bodily harm to those women stupid enough to so much as look in Declan’s direction. Not that Rosalie needed to know about all that.

  “Don’t speak ill of the dead.” Rosalie crossed herself.

  The kitchen door swung open and Father Donnelly stepped into the room. “Michael. Do you have time for a chat?”

  Heart pounding, Michael shoved his chair back and sprung to his feet. “No, not right now. I need to be somewhere. Maybe later.” He wasn’t ready to talk to Brigit but he was even less ready to talk to her dog-collared uncle. If he had any idea about Michael’s past with the lovely Brigit, he had no doubt the priest would hang him from the bell tower by the balls. The man used to be a champion boxer and the years in the employ of God had done nothing to soften his hands or his temper. Michael was still rather fond of his balls and preferred they remained where they were, safe and sound inside his leather pants.

  Rosalie lifted a cake tin off the side next to the sink. “If you’re going past the tea shop could ya be dropping this off to Brigit for me? She’ll be wanting it for Brett’s tea.”

  Michael stared at the tin and then at Father Donnelly and finally at the telephone. Nothing could be done to save him. Brigit Donnelly seemed ready to punish him for his youthful over-exuberance and general randy dog behavior at last. Life as he knew it might be over before lunch.

  Chapter 23

  Meg rolled onto her stomach and pulled her knees up so her backside was hanging out in the wind. When Sam made no move she wiggled her hips a little to try and entice him. A deep chuckle let her know he was paying attention.

  “You really want this, don’t you?”

  She opened her mouth and then snapped it shut again. Uh-uh. She wasn’t going to fall for that trick again. A floorboard creaked and she turned her head.

  A gruff, “Eyes front,” had her focusing back on the ornate timber headboard.

  Warm fingers trailed up the back of her thighs and two palms rubbed the globes of her backside. “How many times were you disobedient?”

  She kept her mouth closed.

  Sam chuckled. “It seems you’ve gone mute at last. But this time you can answer me.”

  “Eight, eight times … sir.”

  The bed dipped beside her, and she closed her eyes in anticipation as his fingers kneaded her butt. Would he spank her or did he have something else in mind. She held her breath and focused on the warm glow deep in her gut. Sam rested a hand on her back, holding her steady, and she waited, heart racing. Instead of the expected slap his warm fingers slipped between her thighs and traced her slit.

  “Hmm, my bad girl likes it. You’re so wet, baby.”

  She was wet and aching for him to stop the damn teasing.

  A wandering digit slipped
inside her and she pushed back, wanting more. Her only reward was a stinging slap. Oh God, the burning sensation set a pulse raging in her clit. She was hot, horny, and ready to take her stripes.

  “Keep still.” Sam’s hair brushed her shoulder as he leaned over and whispered, “I think you enjoy this too much. Maybe a spanking is the wrong punishment for a bad girl like you.”

  Her breath hitched, and she opened her mouth to beg, but was silenced by a stinging slap on her other butt cheek.

  Sam growled out, “Two.”

  With a whimper she dipped her head and waited for more. Each slap was delivered with precision. The pain made her insides pulsate with need. Sam counted each one out loud, and she fought not to moan or make any sound that might make him stop. He was right; she did love him spanking her.

  His hand stung low on her butt, catching the top of her thighs, along with a brief glancing blow to her hot pussy. She fought for control as the scent of her own arousal filled her nostrils. Nothing existed beyond the bed and Sam delivering a glorious, butt-tingling, pussy-soaking spanking.

  “Eight.” Sam’s hand made contact with her already stinging flesh, and she moaned as her insides clenched with desire. Now he had her hot and horny he could screw her silly. The bed rocked as Sam moved. She bit her lip and listened for the sound of his zipper being opened. Nothing. No sound. No sensation.

  A floorboard creaked and she risked turning her head. The bed was empty. Not just the bed but the room. Why would he leave her tied up and horny as hell? She doubted she could even use her hands to get herself off. She rolled onto her back and wriggled the belt as loose as she could. Her whole body teetered on the edge of madness. She needed to come before she died of heart failure.

  “Bastard. Evil bastard,” she muttered as she got enough slack to turn her wrists so one hand cupped the back of the other instead of being tied palms together.

  The first swipe of her finger over her hard clit made her jolt and moan. God, it felt so good, but she needed more, she needed something inside her. Nothing in the room looked usable so she wiggled her hands a bit more and slipped two fingers inside herself. Her muscles clenched and she pulled her knees up so she was able to probe deeper.

  “Bad girl.” Hands still between her thighs, her eyes flew open, and she turned in the direction of Sam’s voice. “Did I tell you to touch yourself?”

  Her heart pounded as she slowly withdrew her fingers and her hands. “No, sir.”

  He grinned. “As hot as that is, I have other plans for you.”

  When he disappeared back in the bathroom she let out a groan. This was bullshit. Michael might be back anytime, and so far Sam had only spanked her. Sam reappeared and the words of protest on the tip of her tongue disappeared. Surely he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. He crossed the room and placed a wet razor, shaving gel and bowl of water on the bedside table.

  “Lift up your butt.”

  “What are you planning to do to me?”

  He raised an eyebrow and stared at her. Slowly she dug her heels into the mattress and lifted her butt.

  “Okay, down.”

  She settled back on the bed and squealed when the rough pile of the towel he’d put beneath her scraped against her still tingling backside. Maybe that was the plan. Each thrust of his cock would rub the fabric against her tender flesh and heighten the experience. The razor was just to wind her up. She glanced at his face. Who was she kidding?

  “Knees up and open your legs.”

  She hesitated, and he crawled onto the mattress next to her.

  “Do you trust me?” He stroked a hand over her hair and looked into her eyes. She nodded and was rewarded with a beautiful smile. “Good girl. Now close your eyes. Relax and enjoy the sensation.”

  Chapter 24

  Warm water trickled between her thighs and her pussy clenched. Sam sighed and poured some more water on her. She had a beautiful pussy, pink, swollen and waiting for him. He shifted on the bed. His cock was so hard it was straining against his zipper. However, relief would be glorious when it came. With a bare pussy all of Meg’s senses would be heightened, and he could drown in what he felt sure would be a mind-blowing orgasm.

  His focus never left her face as he squeezed some gel into his hands and rubbed to warm it. Meg had her eyes closed but the telltale gnawing of her bottom lip revealed how nervous she was.

  “I’m going to start so just relax, baby.”

  The first brush of his fingers made her jolt, and he waited for her to settle before spreading his hands and the gel over her mound and between her thighs. Her clit throbbed as he brushed it with his finger, and he smiled with satisfaction. When he’d first taken a shy and nervous Meg to bed to show her how good sex could be, he had never expected her to fall in love. Not even in his wildest imagination could he believe she would want to play kinky games with him. She was the woman of his filthiest dreams.

  Sitting back on his heels, he looked at his workmanship. Her pretty pussy was all slicked up ready for his more intimate attention. Razor in hand, he moved closer. “Tell me if you need me to stop. Okay? Do you remember your safe word?”

  Meg whispered, “Jelly.”

  Sam chuckled. “Jelly it is.”

  Eyes screwed shut, she waited. Sam took a deep breath and blew it out before slowly running the razor over her mound. As each pass of the blade revealed more of her naked skin, Sam’s heart rate rose. She was beautiful and soon nothing would be hidden from sight. With a gentle nudge of his elbow she widened her legs, and he carefully pulled her labia to one side before skimming the cool metal over her skin. He ignored his throbbing erection as he gently shaved away the remaining fluff. With a flourish, he tossed the razor in the water bowl and then dampened the corner of the towel before gently wiping away the remaining gel.

  Now she was bare he couldn’t resist seeing what she felt like. He blew on her skin and she shivered. Moving closer, he swiped a tongue the length of her slit, and she moaned. Her skin was silky soft. Why just have starters when he could have the whole feast. He buried his face in her cool, spicy scented snatch. Tongue probing and flicking, lips sucking, he devoured her. Her pulse pounded against his mouth as he nibbled her clit and then turned his onslaught to her pussy, shoving his tongue deep inside, savoring the flavor of his woman. Her muscles clenched, and he pulled back. Leaning his head on his hand, he lay between her thighs and ran a finger over her clit down her slit and back again, chuckling as every brush made her legs shake and her body shiver. Now she was bare he could watch as her bud pushed free of her pussy lips, almost sitting up and begging for attention. Her insides pulsed, drawing him in. His cock throbbed in time but he wasn’t ready to make love to her yet

  When he moved to the edge of the bed and climbed to his feet, Meg’s eyes opened.

  Sam shifted his gaze from her face to her beautiful naked pussy and back again.

  “You can’t be done?” Her voice sounded strained, and he grinned. He was sure her question was more a plea that he continue mouth-fucking her rather than a comment about his prowess as a pussy barber.

  “Come see.” He grabbed her arms and helped her to her feet. Her body shook as she leaned into him. Arms wrapped around her waist to ensure she didn’t collapse, he led her to stand in front of the full-length mirror that graced the wardrobe door.

  *

  Meg stared at herself, completely naked, wrists bound together and nothing to hide her pussy from sight. She had never paid much attention to it in the past. Her clit peeked from between her lower lips and the surrounding skin looked pink, hot, and swollen, just the way it felt.

  Still standing behind her, Sam wrapped a hand around her middle and slid it over her stomach. “You’ve got no idea how hot that looks.”

  His hand strayed further and he slipped his fingers over her now soft skin. When he nudged her with his knee, she opened her legs, and he whistled long and low. She whimpered when he moved both hands between her legs. One long finger skimmed her hard bud and another teased her en
trance.

  “Look.” She focused on the mirror and made eye contact with Sam. “I want you to watch me get you off. No closing your eyes or looking away unless I say you can. Okay?”

  She nodded. Her eyes never moved as he traced her slit with a finger and flicked her clit. Heart pounding, she savored the sight of Sam playing her like a favorite musical instrument. One hand strayed to her breast and he pinched her nipple as he did the same to her clit. The jolt of lust almost knocked her off her feet but still she focused.

  His fingers strayed further south, teasing her aching entrance. One finger dipped inside her and back out and he pulled his hand free, moisture glistening on the tip. He grinned at her in the mirror as he lifted the digit to his nose and inhaled. “God, woman, you smell divine.”

  A wave of lust spread throughout her body, making her shudder in his arms. With one arm wrapped around her middle to hold her up, he continued his quest to send her over the edge, and she played voyeur. Watching his actions as he slowly slipped his fingers through her slit, collecting her moisture, and massaging her bud made her ache. A deep sexy chuckle sounded in her ear as he slipped a finger inside her. She writhed as the hard pad of his thumb brushed her clit, desperate to ride his hand to oblivion. Her focus strayed upward to meet his. Dark blue eyes pinned her. Sam slid his tongue along his bottom lip, and she moaned when he drove another finger inside her and ground his steely erection against her butt.

  A growl of “Watch” made her drop her focus.

  Panting for control, she fought to keep her eyes open as his massage became harder and faster. Fingers tweaked, slipped, probed, and teased every part of her needy center. She leaned back against him and writhed to get more friction, riding his fingers like a bucking bronco. The sight of his fingers sliding in and out of her sent her mind spiraling out of control as she imagined watching his cock doing the same.