by Henry, Jane
If she’s this responsive to a kiss and chaste touch, how will she respond when I really begin to work her body? When I suckle her nipples and fondle her breasts? When I finger her secret folds? When I eat her sweet pussy and she comes on my tongue?
I pull my mouth off hers with reluctance, only long enough so I can issue a command. “Robe off,” I say, helping her do it by slipping the white fabric off her other shoulder, while she unties the belt at her waist.
She places both her hands on my shoulders, her eyes wide and fearful like they were just moments ago in the doorway. “Cormac.”
“Aye?”
“How will you… what will they…” her cheeks heat pink. “How will they know you’ve taken my virginity?”
It’s a fair question, but she should know this. Should’ve been schooled by her mam.
Fucking Martins.
“Did your mother not explain this?”
She gives a derisive laugh. “My mother? Hell no. I found out about my period from my nanny.”
How much does she know? “Do you know… how much about sex do you know?” I’m bracing myself above her on one arm, but my cock’s pressed up to the soft swell of her belly.
She swallows, and her cheeks turn a deeper shade of pink. “I have friends and the internet, you know.”
“Answer the question.”
“Plenty. I know plenty.”
It’s a moot point. She’ll know soon enough.
“Some women bleed when they lose their virginity,” I tell her. “And we can present sheets. If not, we’ll have our doctor examine you.”
Her eyes fill with horror and her mouth parts open. “No,” she breathes. “No!”
“Aye, lass. ’Tis the only way.”
“It’s hard enough being fucked by a man I hardly know,” she says, and the girl with the iron will’s returned, though there’s a thin thread of fear in her voice she can’t mask. “I won’t consent to be violated by a doctor.”
“He wouldn’t violate you, lass,” I try to say gently, but she’ll hear none of it.
“No,” she says. Then she grits her teeth and meets my gaze unblinking. “Make me bleed.”
Make me bleed. Christ, this woman.
“You may not, though.”
Her hands wrap around the back of my neck, and though her voice shakes, she doesn’t blink. “Do your best.”
I wonder why she balks at the thought of a doctor but not at being fucked to the point of bleeding? Still, I’ve a duty to do. And hell if I’ll start our marriage off with the memory of painful, bloody fucking.
“You’ll enjoy this,” I insist. I’ll be sure she does. To my surprise, she actually laughs.
“Is that a sign of your manhood or something?”
I slap her thigh, and she laughs again. “Or something. Spread your legs, lass.”
Her amusement flees. Her eyes still fixed on me, she obeys. I take the rumpled robe and yank the tie from it before I toss it to the floor. She eyes the tie with fear. I take her wrists and lift them above her head, marveling at the way her gorgeous, pert breasts are on display. I yank the tie and wrap it around her wrists.
She blinks. “Oh, God.”
I smile. “I hope you’ll be screaming my name and not his when you come, but honestly, either will do.”
She whimpers.
I spread her legs, and eye her pretty, bare pussy.
“Good girl,” I approve. “I like you shaved like this.”
She flushes pink again, but doesn’t respond.
“If your pussy tastes as sweet as your mouth, I may never resurface,” I groan, lowering myself to the sweet vee between her thighs.
“Oh, God,” she repeats, and her eyes flutter closed, as if she has to block out the intensity of this moment. Hell, maybe she does. Not me. I want to revel in this.
If I eat her out and make her come, it’ll go easier on her when I fuck her. It should, anyway.
My cock’s a steel rod when I spread her legs and breathe her in. The sweet, feminine musk of her arousal makes me groan. I fall to the floor and bring her to the edge of the bed, draping her legs over my shoulders.
“Cormac,” she protests, trying to lift her hands to stop me, but she isn’t able.
“Aye?”
“This is too… no, I can’t... please don’t.”
She’s scared, the wee thing. She ought to be, and I can’t shield her from what we have to do. We don’t know each other. She’s never been fucked. And hell, I’m no boy when it comes to fucking. I’m going to take her, firmly, and present the evidence. But Christ, she can enjoy this part.
“You asked me to make you bleed, sweetheart. That will hurt. Let me prepare you.”
“By—by doing that?” her tear-filled eyes break me a little. She has no idea how enjoyable that can be.
“Have you ever had your pussy licked?” My words come out in a growl I don’t intend.
She’d better answer no.
“Oh God no. Of course not.”
I smile, before I kiss her inner thigh. She jumps like I just pulled the trigger on a gun. Christ, the woman’s so strung up she’s about to snap. It’s time I took control.
“Close your eyes, Aileen.” My voice hardens, issuing a command, and it has the desired effect. She closes her eyes.
“Good girl. Just like that. Now breathe, sweetheart.”
Obediently, she draws in a deep breath, then lets it out again.
“Good girl. Do it again.”
She does.
I get up from my kneeling position and return to her breasts, weighing one in my left hand, while I drag my tongue along the hardened bud of her second breast. I work her nipples, suckling and tugging, then laving again before I go to the second, until she’s writhing beneath me and the scent of her arousal permeates the air.
Still suckling her nipple, I bring my hand to her bare pussy and part her folds. I glide a finger in and out, pleased to find she’s so wet. I relish the sounds of her soft breathing, the little mewls and purrs. I suckle her nipple and fondle her until her hips rise and her breathing becomes ragged. She’s on the cusp of climax.
I kiss my way down her body, from her jaw to her neck then lower still, down the valley between her breasts to her belly. I drag my tongue through her navel, relishing the salty sweet taste of her naked skin, then lower still, to her sweet pussy I’m eager to taste.
This time, she lets her legs fall open.
“Good girl,” I approve. “Just like that, sweetheart.”
I position myself in front of her, drape her legs over my shoulders, and lower my mouth to her pussy. I kiss her there, inhaling her intoxicating scent. Her pelvis rises and she groans. She wants more. She’s eager.
I kiss her again, pressing my lips to her swollen folds, then licking the creases on either side of her pussy. I want her dying for my tongue, ready to fly. I part her with the tip of my tongue, my cock straining. She gasps, holding her breath. I let the heat of my mouth pervade her, until she’s panting before I’ve even licked her.
“Beg me before you come.”
“May I? Please?” I can’t help but chuckle. She’s that ready? I begin with slow, lazy, deliberate strokes of my tongue through her seam.
“Oh God!” she knifes up, yanking on her restraints, but they hold fast. I hold her thighs down and lap again. And again. And again.
Within seconds, she’s panting and heaving.
“Cormac,” she whispers.
“Beg me.”
“Please, Cormac, oh God. Please. I’ll do anything you want. Anything. Let me come, Cormac, please,” she begs, her voice trembling along with her hips, rising to meet my tongue.
I don’t answer, working her even closer to climax.
I wait until her sweet body trembles against my tongue, before I lift my mouth. “Come, sweetheart.”
She lifts her bound hands, as if she wants to bury her hands in my hair to support herself, and I almost wish I hadn’t tied her. My lips tip up in a grin whe
n she moans. I grip her hips, hold her pussy to my lips, and lazily lap again until her voice pitches off into a ragged scream.
She comes against my mouth with abandon, my lust-filled groans and her mewls filling the room. I feast myself on her pussy, until her hips fall back to the bed, then I join her, crawling back up the bed to straddle her.
“Absolutely fucking gorgeous,” I tell her, the sweet taste of her juices still on my lips while I drag my hand across my mouth and smile at her. Her wide, beautiful blue eyes go half-lidded, and she bites her lip.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
Christ, I’d do that morning and night to hear those words in her beautiful, lilting voice.
“My fucking pleasure.”
That makes her laugh, and for just one moment, we’re on the same team, the two of us. We’re married, though we hardly know each other, but right then, we can laugh together. And hell, I love that.
I can’t waste any time, though. She’ll be nice and wet, still high from climaxing. It’s time I claimed her.
“We’ve a duty to do.” Her lust-filled eyes widen a little. She swallows and nods.
Brave girl.
I yank the knotted towel at my waist and toss it to the floor. Her eyes travel to my stiff cock, and she licks her lips.
She licks her fucking lips.
My cock aches with the need for friction with her.
“Let me… you could let me return the favor,” she suggests.
“Come again?”
“You could… I could do to you what you just did to me.”
She wants to blow me?
Fucking hell.
Her offer gives me pause, though. Why would a virgin make such an offer?
I can’t hide the impatience and anger in my voice when I demand, “Have you done that before?”
She doesn’t respond, but the way her eyes slice away guiltily is answer enough. I don’t realize I’m growling until her eyes widen in fear.
“Who?” I demand.
“Doesn’t matter,” she says, her eyes narrowing on me. “I was trying to be nice, and you’re ruining it.”
“Thought you were a virgin.”
“I am,” she snaps.
“A virgin who’s had dick between her lips?”
She turns her face away from me with a haughty hmph. “I take it back, then. Offer’s off the table.”
Oh hell no. Jealous possession sweeps through me before I can stop it. I lean over her and grab a fistful of her hair, yanking her eyes back to mine.
“What’s on and off the table’s my fucking call.” She winces when I yank her hair. “The thought of you with any other man, in any way, makes me want to knife the fucking bastard and spill his blood.”
“Cormac.” Her words are soft, a plea.
“I don’t ever want to hear of you with another man. Any man who touched you before now broke code and will pay with his life.”
She opens her mouth to respond, then closes it. Her eyes wide and fear-filled, she nods.
“Now spread your fucking legs.”
This isn’t how I planned it, it isn’t what I wanted. But I’m so angry right now, I can see nothing before me but an end goal: take her virginity and fucking prove it, before our union is threatened.
Claim her. Fuck her.
She spreads her legs like she’s a goddamn brasser at a whorehouse. Glaring at me. I ignore the look of betrayal she gives me. I took this woman from the filthiest Clan in all of Ireland on the grounds she was a virgin. If any of the men in her Clan were the ones to touch her, I’ll find them. They’ll pay for what they’ve done.
I position myself above her, my fist closing in around her bound wrists. Holding her in place. And though her eyes flash at me, she can’t hide the fear. It only spurs me on, only makes me want to take her harder. Faster. Lay claim to the woman who now bears my name, and some day my children.
Mine.
She stares at me unblinking, silently daring me to do what I have to through my haze of anger. I line my cock up at her entrance and drag it through her sopping folds. I groan, my cock throbbing.
“Fuck me, then, Cormac McCarthy,” she says through gritted teeth. “What are you fucking waiting for? Go at it. Do it.”
I hear her sweet, fearful voice in my mind again as I hover above her.
Make me bleed.
I slap her thigh. “Quiet.”
Her eyes water, but the pink flush of her cheek tells me it’s from anger, not pain. She asked for this, I tell myself, she wanted this. Bracing myself above her, her thin wrists still held in my hands, I don’t take my time. I don’t ease myself in. With one firm push, I slam my hips into hers and break through her barrier. She gasps, but I thrust again before she’s recovered. I want to bring her pain. I want to make her cry. I want to punish her for her cheek, her goddamn insolence, for being so fucking vulnerable.
My groans fill the room, my anger momentarily forgotten. Her pussy clenches around me, so tight, so hot, my eyes flutter closed and I utter an oath. She may have been touched by another man, but she’s still a fucking virgin.
“Mother of fucking God.” I don’t move within her, not yet, but relish the feel of her pussy squeezing my cock.
She tries to hide her wince of pain, but I see it, even through my haze of anger.
Her voice wavers. “Fuck me. What are you fucking waiting for?”
I bend my head to hers, our foreheads nearly touching. “Careful, Aileen.” I warn her. “Don’t bait me, lass. It’s too easy for me to hurt you.”
Though she’s putting on a brave front, I don’t miss the way she swallows hard, or the dots of perspiration across her brow. And it almost softens me.
Almost.
“You’re an arsehole, Cormac McCarthy,” she says. “And I fucking hate you.”
I thrust, to punish her, to silence her.
She winces, then whispers, “Is that all you’ve got?” But her voice is weaker this time.
“Don’t try me,” I say in a dangerous whisper, my hold on my anger tenuous, like gossamer thread. “Do you reckon I can’t hurt you?” I lift my hips and thrust again. The tight walls of her pussy hug my swollen cock. My balls tighten and my cock throbs inside her. It feels so fucking good I want to lose myself in this, fuck her hard and fast until I chase my release and fill her with my seed. But I won’t.
“You’re mine, Aileen McCarthy,” I whisper in her ear, reminding her she now bears my name. I weave my fingers through her mass of hair and pull. Her head tips back and her lips part on a moan as I thrust again. Hard. Vicious. She told me to make her bleed.
I have to.
I want her to know this, to feel this. “As mine, you belong to me. All of you. Your mouth. Your body. Your sweet, virgin cunt.”
I lift my hips and slam into her again, and again, until a tear rolls down her cheek and she winces, but a moment later her lips are parted in pleasure.
“I know,” she says, her voice tight and controlled. “I fucking know.”
She closes her eyes and more tears roll down her cheeks, but I can tell a part of her likes this, because her hips rise to meet my thrusts and she bites her lip, caught somewhere between pain and bliss.
I thrust again, unable to stop my need to fuck her, my need to come in her. Holding her wrists in my hand, I rock my hips. I slam my cock into her, thrusting in and out, and though her slick juices make it easy, and she rocks her hips with mine, she can’t help a little whimper.
My need to claim her spurs me on, until I’m on the edge of release. She turns her face away from me. I hold her wrists with one hand, but take my free hand and grab her chin. I yank her eyes to mine.
“Watch me,” I order. “Hold my eyes as I take you.”
She closes her eyes, the brat. I slam my palm against her thigh on instinct. Her eyes snap open. She looks at me with nothing short of fury as I thrust one last time. Our heated, furious gazes lock as boiling, blistering ecstasy washes through me. Even furious, she can’t help t
he way her body reacts. Moaning, writhing beneath me, she comes as my seed lashes into her. And still she holds my gaze, utter hatred in her eyes. I spill every last drop of my come in her.
Spent. Sated. I pull my cock out of her and roll to the side of the bed.
Make me bleed.
Her thighs are smeared with blood when I pull out, bearing witness that I took her.
Chapter 8
Aileen
I want to hide myself underneath these blankets and weep. I want to ball up in the corner of this massive bed and sob out my pain. I knew my first night with my future husband wouldn’t be glamorous, that it wouldn’t be the stuff of dreams. I’ve known that since I became a woman.
I witnessed how my mother and sisters were treated, how my oldest sister left our house young and full of promise, and how every time I saw her, she’d grown thinner and more despondent. We didn’t talk of this. I didn’t want to ask questions. But I knew, a part of her died being wed to the man she was forced to marry.
And the others weren’t much better. One isn’t allowed contact with us, and another lives far off in the Middle East now.
But still… a part of me hoped. Dreamed. Longed for a man who would truly love me, who would treat me better than if I were a whore. But no. Not this man. Cormac McCarthy might’ve been a good man once, but he’s caved to the pressure of his clan. Any man who’d whip me, tear me away from my family, then fuck me the way he just did doesn’t have an ounce of tenderness in him.
My body aches. I can still feel where he lashed me earlier, the skin tender and bruised.
Like an idiot, I told him to make me bleed. And he did.
“Come here,” he says, his voice tight with anger. I don’t move, even though I know he’ll punish me if I disobey him. He grabs my shoulder and rolls me over. I don’t bother to hide my tears. I’m so angry I want to hurt him, but so tired I don’t know how.
He takes the crisp white sheets, as pristine as fallen snow, and swipes over my legs. Bright red blood stains them. Not much. I hardly gushed. But it’s enough to give evidence of what we’ve done.
Some girls hope they aren’t the type to bleed when they lose their virginity. Not me. While it’s hard to be fucked by a man I don’t love, I will not subject myself to the invasion of a doctor’s intrusion. That happened to me once, against my will. Mack Martin, clan leader, ordered me inspected by the Clan doctor before he promised me to the McCarthys. Bastard.