My pussy clenches at that, and my body goes all tingly.
“Oh, can you, then?” I sound as eager as a little puppy, goddammit.
Lame, Aisling.
“Oh, aye,” he says. The key’s just at the edge of the lock, but he doesn’t unfasten me quite yet.
I lick my lips. “I suppose a bloke could…” I let my words trail off a little. “Take advantage of a girl, hmm?”
He nods thoughtfully, takes the keyring, then tosses the bloody thing to the bedside table. It hits the center with a clink.
He sits on the edge of the bed but doesn’t touch me. His eyes rove over my body.
“Could kiss every inch of you,” he says thoughtfully. “Lick and suckle my way down your body until you nearly came out of your skin.”
My body heats, and my breathing hitches.
“I could eat out that pretty pussy of yours until you came on my tongue,” he says softly, stroking his beard. His trousers tent, and it makes me even more eager for him than ever. I squeeze my thighs together as he continues. “I bet I could make you come in multiples.”
“If memory serves, you already have,” I mutter. “Multiple multiples.”
“Oh, I mean just with my tongue,” he says with nonchalance that sends my heartbeat skipping even harder.
“Sounds… um, good,” I whisper.
He stands and reaches for the edge of his t-shirt. Even his fluid movements as he tugs his shirt off and tosses it to the side make me eager for him. He’s all corded strength and ripped sinew, unbridled power and grace, and I fucking want him. He knows how to orchestrate my body, and he does it so bloody well.
He rejoins me in the bed wearing only his trousers. One hand on either side of my body, he braces himself above me, leans down, and whispers in my ear, the heat of his body warming mine to my very toes. “I’m not taking these cuffs off until you’ve begged me to come. Begged me.”
I whimper.
His hand comes to my arse, cups it, and gives me a warning squeeze.
“And you know what happens if you come without permission, don’t you?”
“Oh, aye, I could imagine,” I say with a forced laugh. “I get bloody well punished, don’t I?”
“Mhm,” he says with a nod. “Of course you do.” He nips my earlobe, and I’m so primed, my hips jerk involuntarily. “What methods of punishment could I use, Aisling?”
I’m trembling and needy, and he’s hardly touched me. “A… spanking?”
“Of course. I could put you over my lap and spank you until you begged for mercy, couldn’t I?”
“Ah, yep,” I say, still trying to keep my head in the game, but I’m trembling.
“Or I could tie you up and flog you.”
I squeak a little. “Flog me? Sounds… hardcore.”
He shrugs, trailing his tongue down my neck. “Oh, I could do hardcore.”
“I’ve every confidence you could. What would… that entail?”
He kisses my shoulder gently. “Punishing your arse properly with a good spanking and a bloody good fucking.”
Oh, God.
“So that every movement reminded you of me.”
“Simple as that, eh?” I say with another forced laugh. “Couldn’t just…text me?”
Knock, knock, knock.
He scowls, and for one brief second, I imagine I can see the old Tiernan, the younger man I knew when I was only a child myself.
“Bloody hell,” he mutters. “Who the hell is it?”
He glares at the cuffs. “You stay right here.”
I roll my eyes heavenward. “Still not planning on it.”
He tugs his t-shirt on and shuts the door hard behind him. It closes with a bang. I perk up my ears, and listen for what I can hear. I’m trembling, still cuffed to the bed. Is it the doctor again? But no, the voices are feminine.
Tiernan’s voice is harsh and low, and I can’t make out the words. I expect he’ll send them away, but he doesn’t. The voices rise and fall, and a moment later, he enters the room, just opening the door enough to slip in, then shuts it behind him.
“You’ve got company,” he says with a frown, his arms crossed on his chest. My heart beats hard and fast, and I try to sit up but can’t with my wrists cuffed.
“Who the hell is it?” I ask, more than a little grumpy that we got interrupted when he was no doubt going to do those wicked, lovely things he does to me.
He kneels on the edge of the bed and unfastens the handcuffs, then reaches for my hand and sighs. He sits beside me.
“The women of the Clan have come to pay you a visit.”
My breathing becomes ragged. “Women of the Clan?” I whisper. “Really, Tiernan? You mean… your sister?”
He squeezes my hand reassuringly. “Fiona’s here, but she isn’t alone. She’s come with Maeve and Caitlin. Do you remember them, lass?”
I shake my head… “Well, a little,” I say with a frown. “But honest to God, Tiernan, I’m… indisposed to have company.”
He smiles. “They’ve actually come to help with that.”
My cheeks flush. I shake my head. “No. Please, no. I… I don’t want any visitors, especially them.”
He bends and kisses my forehead. “I wish I could honor that, but Keenan sent them.”
“Keenan?” I fucking hate him right then.
“Aye, lass, Clan Chief.”
“I know who he bloody is.”
He quirks a brow at me. “When Keenan gives an order, we obey.”
I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose.
“Or what?” I snap. “Surely he doesn’t command even the women of the Clan, Tiernan?”
He smiles. “The women obey as well.”
This right here is why I don’t belong here, why I need to leave. If I’m going to retain any of my autonomy, I need to leave now. But how? I’m not free to. I’m a prisoner with certain… privileges.
“Get up and dressed, lass,” he says, lifting the bedsheet. “And I’ll bring you out to them.”
A part of me doesn’t really want to fight this, because a part of me wants to talk to a friend.
What if they judge me? What if they’re mean, like women can be? Cruel and judgmental? Will they gossip about me when they leave? Will it be weird if they know I’m prisoner to Tiernan, that he commands me?
I quickly get ready. It seems I don’t have much of a choice. I brush my hair and splash some water on my face. I tug on a pair of joggers and a t-shirt, and glance at myself in the mirror. Simple but sober. I’ll do.
I’m trembling when I go out to meet him. He’s standing with his hands in his pockets, staring out the window at the churning sea. He looks over his shoulder when I enter the room, and his eyes widen a bit.
“You look fucking beautiful,” he says.
I actually look down in surprise. “Really?” I say incredulously. “I’m literally wearing joggers and a t-shirt.”
He grins, prowling over to me. “Oh, aye,” he says with a smirk. “But I know what’s under those joggers and tee.”
My belly swoops and my pulse races. He kisses my cheek. “Honestly, Ais, you look stunning, even in simple things like that.”