Still he doesn’t speak.
I watch as his fingers begin unfastening the cuff at his wrist.
Why does that turn me on, even as my heart thunders in my chest? How can such a casual move be threatening?
The button falls away and he folds the cuff.
My eyes dart around the room.
With a little squeal, I decide to make a dash past him, but I’m not fast enough, and he’s ready for me. Just as I run for the bedroom, his arm loops around my waist and he holds me mid-air. I kick my legs and fight him, but he’s way more powerful than I am. He drags me to the bedroom and tosses me onto the bed. I bounce, my dress rips, and I scramble away from him, but he grabs my ankle and yanks me back.
“Let me go! Let me go or I’ll scream!”
“Ah, no you don’t,” he says with an almost casual shrug. Completely unaffected. “Not today, lass.”
With one hand he flips me over onto the bed so I’m on my knees. I fall forward and brace myself on my hands as his palm slams against my arse.
“Ow! Hey! Don’t you dare!”
But before I can say another word, he spanks me again. Of course he does.
“I did not come all the way here,” he grates, with another smack of his palm. “So that you could act the brat and endanger yourself.” Another searing smack. I’m wriggling in protest but he holds me so firmly on the mattress I can’t get away. “Don’t push me, Fiona. I promised you my folded belt across your arse if you earned it, and you’re one second away from just that.”
I don’t know what comes over me, if it’s the temper I inherited from this flaming red hair—it’s a thing! — or if I need to see if he means it. Or maybe, for some reason I can’t quite fathom, I need to know he means what he says, for I kick my feet, don’t bother holding back, and scream as loud as I can, “You can fuck all the way off, Lachlan McCarthy!”
He doesn’t speak but goes very still. That’s when I start to wonder if I’ve lost my mind.
Without a word, he releases me. Is it over?
I’m too stunned to move at first, and this is a strategic error on my part. He’s clearly an expert at removing his belt. In a flash, the folded leather leaves his waist. I try to scramble away, but he grabs my leg and yanks me back, all the way off the bed so my feet hit the floor and my belly pushes up against the corner of the bed.
Now I’m second guessing my wild mouth and furious rage.
“Okay, okay, I didn’t really mean that,” I begin. “Lachlan, I’m sorry, I swear I don’t know what got into me.”
Still, not a word. Effortlessly, he gathers my wrists in one of his hands and pins them to my lower back. He yanks up my dress and tears my knickers clean off me. I crane my neck around to see his face tight with determination, jaw clenched.
Oh God.
I’m pressed against the bed, the corner pushed into my belly, when without a word he snaps the folded leather across my arse.
It hurts, the bite of leather on my bare skin searing into me, and for a moment my mind clears. I can’t think, I can’t talk, I’m suspended in time when he spanks me a second time, then a third, until I’m squirming on the bed and my arse is on fire.
After the fourth searing lash, he taps his belt on my arse.
“I don’t want to whip you,” he says, but I can feel his hardened length against me.
“Oh yeah?” I throw back at him. “Then why did you get a hard-on from beating me? Liar!”
Another line of fire lights up my arse.
“I warned you. I warned you about me. I told you not to push me. I told you what I would do. Do you think I want to hurt you?”
A lump forms in my throat. “No,” I say, my voice sounding distant and strained. “I know you don’t want to.”
But maybe I need him to.
He spanks me again until I can’t speak and I’m a blubbering mess.
I’m crying freely into the bed now when the clash of metal tells me he’s dropped the belt onto the floor. He sits on the edge of the bed, drags me onto his lap, and cradles me in his arms.
“Don’t you trust me, Fiona?”
“Of course I do,” he says, his voice is softer now, I think whipping my arse has calmed him.
“This has nothing to do with me trusting you.”
“This has everything to do with you trusting me.”
“No, lass,” he says, holding me close. “It has to do with your safety. I didn’t keep you in the dark because I don’t trust you. I didn’t want to be overheard. And God almighty, I don’t want to threaten our safety.”
I reluctantly have to admit that makes sense.
“Aye,” I say slowly. “Will you always beat me when I ask questions?”
He lifts me off his chest and cups my chin in his palm. “I will never beat you. I will spank your disobedient little arse when I need to, aye.”
I try to pout, but he’s turning me on.
“We’re in another hotel arranged by Calum,” he says. “Now that we’re in this room, and I know it’s safe, I can speak freely to you.”
Oh.
“We came here so we wouldn’t be followed. This hotel is owned by the Boston Clan, and their friends are allowed access. It’s fully patrolled by them, carefully guarded, and a fucking fortress of protection.”
I nod. “Okay. Well, since you put it that way…”
“And I didn’t want anyone outside or our driver to hear where we were going or why.”
“The men outside…?”
“Our new bodyguards, assigned by Calum.”
Ooohhh.
I swallow. “Ah, I had no idea, though. Why didn’t you tell me?”
He rolls his eyes. “I couldn’t, Fiona. I needed to get you to safety first.”
I feel small and summarily chastened.
“Well. Maybe next time you can tell me,” I suggest helpfully.
“Or maybe next time you trust me,” Lachlan says. I don’t know if it’s my imagination but I truly think he may be hurt. “All these years, Fiona, and you don’t trust me? Not yet? I don’t know how else to show you.”
He rocks me back and forth and kisses my forehead.
“This,” I whisper. “This is nice. I could get used to this.”
“I don’t think you flipped out just because you were angry, though,” he says softly.
“No? Then why don’t you tell me what you think?” I’m not being snarky, but truthful.
“I think a part of you wanted to lose control. And a part of you wanted me to take it back.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I say, my cheeks flushing, as I realize that he’s totally right.
He’s quietly massaging my sore and tender backside, I squirm when the pain morphs into heat and the heat travels beyond my arse to my core. I wriggle a little at the touch of his palm on my naked skin, and just that quickly, I start to crave more of him.
“I wish I could keep you safe,” he whispers. “Away from all of this. From anyone who could hurt you.”
I burrow my head on his chest. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m really so sorry for all of this. I was such a brat.”
He gives me a roguish grin. “You like it.”