Oh God. Had it been less than an hour since she’d imagined herself across a man’s lap, his hand falling repeatedly on her naked buttocks? Had he used magic to read her mind? Or did he truly mean it?
She told herself she needed to end this immediately, get out of here, maybe call the police. But her feet felt as if they were encased in concrete. Instead of turning away, she rose onto her tiptoes, wordlessly seeking more. She had no idea what was happening to her, why she was responding so completely.
He nipped at her clit and she squealed. “No coming without permission,” he reminded her. “Do you understand?”
She was still reeling from the smart smack to her swollen vulva. Her entire being throbbed with need. It would take him thirty seconds, maybe less, to make her shatter. “I’d rather crawl through molten rocks.”
He laughed, and the vibration only stimulated her. “My rules. My way. Yield now or I’ll leave you on the edge.”
Bastard that he was, she knew he’d do just that. If she were a stronger person, she’d shove him away, put on her clothes, and figure out another way to escape. But with him on his knees, his mouth right there, she was not only willing, she was weak. Damn him, she didn’t want him to stop.
“Shall I continue, Sinead? Shall I give you the orgasm of your life?”
Her breasts were full, her nipples had swollen. Her breathing was laboured.
“It’s your choice entirely.”
“Make me come,” she ordered.
“What happens if you come without permission?”
“A spanking.” She rolled her eyes even as she wondered what that would feel like.
“One you won’t forget,” he said. “Take your hands out of my hair and place them behind you. Cross your wrists at the small of your back. Pretend they’re secured, and don’t move them. We’ll consider that you’re tied by my will.”
“You’ve lost your senses.”
“Five seconds to comply, wench.”
She shuddered. She knew he meant it, and damn it, the rush of heat between her legs told her that her mind was rebellious, but her wanton body wasn’t.
Slowly she disentangled her hands from his hair and obediently did as she’d been told.
“Stick out your chest just a little more to arch your back. That’ll give me greater access to your hot little cunt.”
Feeling humiliated, she did exactly what he ordered.
“I forgot what you wanted.”
Liar
.
“Tell me again, in detail.”
“Please, Quinn,” she said, “I want to come.” As she spoke, he started to move, rewarding each word with a tender stroke. “I want you to finger-fuck my cunt…”
He moved a finger slowly inside her, as he might thrust his cock. That was enough, she knew, to bring her off, given enough time.
“And my arse,” she whispered, desperate to wrap her hands around his head for support.
“Anal virgin?” he asked.
“Yes,” she confessed. “A bit nervous.”
“We’ll go slow. And when we’re home, I’ll give you some time to adjust to wearing a plug.”
She might have protested if she could have found her voice. But she knew there’d be plenty of time for arguing later.
She felt his finger begin to press into her anus.
“Tell me what else,” he said.
“Lick my pussy. Lick it good.”
“How much pressure against your clit?”
She couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. It was simultaneously erotic and mortifying. “A lot. “I sometimes can’t…”
“When you masturbate?”
“Yes. I have trouble…” He pressed his tongue against her—hard—as he shoved his finger inside her rectum.
Sensations assaulted her, feeling as if they came from the inside out. She was delirious with desire. One of the most gorgeous men she’d ever seen, was licking and sucking her cunt, fingering both holes while she panted.
She rocked back and forth, thrusting her pelvis forward, shamelessly demanding he give her more. He responded perfectly, as if intuitively reading her body’s needs.
The sensations built and built to a primal crescendo.
She was on the balls of her feet. She wanted to reach for him, but she recalled his words, that she was tied by his will. For reasons beyond her, she wanted to please him as much as he was pleasing her. He wanted her hands behind her back. She’d keep them there. “Quinn!” She remembered, barely. “Please,” she said. “Please. I want to come. I need to come.”
He didn’t respond. Instead, he continued to eat her, lick her. He moved the finger inside her arse.
She was helpless, undone. “I’m begging. Begging. Let me come, Quinn.”
He murmured something that she prayed was assent.
Screaming like the Banshee herself, she came, hard.
She was unable to keep her balance, despite the fact he moved his shoulders forward to support her thighs. Her toes sought purchase in the carpeting, but it wasn’t enough. Defying his order, she grabbed his shoulders and pulled him forward, grinding her cunt shamelessly against his face.
He continued to lick, to suck, to fuck until the last shudder passed.
Her knees felt weak, and she couldn’t draw a breath all the way into her lungs.
As if in slow motion, he moved, gathering her into his arms, sweeping her from the ground and carrying her to the bed. He placed her there, on the side opposite the suitcase.
Now that the ordeal was over, she felt vulnerable in her nakedness. She reached for the robe, but couldn’t quite curl her listless fingers around it.
He left her, and she heard water running
He returned less than a minute later with a warm, damp flannel that he placed between her legs.
She had never had a man tend her like this, and she liked it.
All fight had left her, even though she knew he was a Quinn. Now that she’d had a world-class orgasm, the sweat on her body began to cool.
He moved the piece of luggage onto a nearby chair then toed off his boots and sat on the edge of the bed.
She eyed him warily.
“You didn’t follow my orders,” he told her.
She stiffened, aware of her state of undress and the fact his jaw was set in an uncompromising line. Butterflies roiled in her stomach. “I asked for permission when I came,” she whispered.
“You didn’t keep your hands behind your back.”
“I was going to lose my balance, you bastard.”
“You were given an order. You’ll be punished for your transgression.” He reached across the bed and smoothed her hair, brushing strands back from her cheekbones.
What the hell was wrong with him? He was soothing her, even as he threatened her.
She reached for her robe and dragged it over her. She sat up and scooted away, pressing her back against the headboard.
She saw that his cock had hardened. His threat turned him on. Sick sod.
So what did that say about her that her pussy moistened slightly at the idea of him punishing her? She tried to rid her mind of the thought and all-too carnal images. But part of her wanted to know what he had planned. Part of her hoped he wasn’t just tormenting her.
“Get your sweet little arse across my knee.”
In a very American way, something she learned from Brandon, she said, “Bite me.”
“Right, then.”
He moved fast. Before she knew what he was about, he’d stood and grabbed her. The robe fell onto the carpet. Despite her flailing, he effortlessly managed her. As if she weighed nothing, he sat back on the edge of the bed and turned her over his knee.
She learned her lesson about goading him.
His denim jeans were scratchy beneath her bare skin, and she was aware of the power and strength of his thighs. He was all man. Strong. Unyielding.
She desperately fought for balance, and before she found it his hand came down—hard—on her arse. “Curse you a hundred thousand times!” She kicked her legs futilely.
He placed a hand firmly on the small of her back and spanked her again. This one wasn’t as hard, and in fact it wasn’t totally unpleasant.
She tried to ignore the little voice that reminded her that boring sex and conventional expectations were some of the reasons she’d ended the relationship with Donal.
She’d wanted to experience more.
He stroked her pussy. “You’re damp.” He slapped her right butt cheek again. “Cease your struggles and we’ll end this after two more.”
She nodded weakly. She could do this. She wanted it.
“Put your hands behind your back.”
“How will I balance?” she demanded, the words muffled because of her position.
“I’ll make sure you don’t fall.”
“I’m to blindly trust you, am I?”
“You’re being punished because you didn’t keep your hands behind your back,” he reminded her. “Next time perhaps you won’t forget.”
She knew right then that he was giving her a choice. She might call him names, he might truly be an ogre—with a wart on his nose and all—but he’d made certain she was aroused.
He was as good as his word. He moved a big hand to the side of her ribs and gave her support while she brought back her arms.
“Clasp your hands just above your buttocks,” he instructed.
She shifted her weight so that she was more balanced on the balls of her feet.
Once she was positioned, he moved his hand to the centre of her back. “How many more?” he asked.
“Two. You said two.”
“If you cease your struggles,” he reminded her. “Otherwise we can keep going. It’s up to you,
a rún
.”
She could do anything for that short a period of time. Caution to the wind, she challenged, “Bring it on.”
He laughed. “Reckless little thing, aren’t you?”
Before she had the chance to answer, he brought his hand down across both buttocks. She yelped and her right foot came off the ground. “That fecking
hurt!”
“I imagine it did. It stung my hand.”
She bit back another reply, realising it wouldn’t get her far.
“Settle yourself and let me know when you’re ready for the next one.”
“It’ll be the last one,” she corrected. Her thoughts were becoming fuzzy with all the blood that had rushed to her head.
“If you take it well,” he agreed blandly.
“It’s the last one,” she bit out.
“Let me know when you’re ready.”
“Do your worst.”
She braced herself, tensing her buttocks, but the final blow was nearly gentle. He’d placed it directly on top of the previous one and the sensations ignited her response. She was on the verge of another orgasm.
Instead of pleasuring her like she’d hoped, he helped her to her feet.
She swayed for a few seconds, but he kept a steadying hand on her. The man was pure genius when it came to arousing her. And at the moment he was a pure torment when it came to satisfying her.
“How was your first spanking?”
She might have snarled if she had the energy. But truthfully the man had fulfilled a naughty fantasy. It had been everything she’d imagined. No wonder she’d had trouble finding a man to settle with. She’d been restless with plain man-on-top until he got it done—a couple of minutes if she were lucky—sex. This, this had been so different. He’d been all about her pleasure. Crikey, he hadn’t even undressed. But no way would Sinead admit the truth to Quinn. He’d grin or gloat, maybe even both. Then she’d have to kill him.
“I’ll be looking forward to your next beating.”
“You’re the only one,” she lied.
Tenderly he smoothed back errant strands of her hair. “You’re so much more than I expected.”
His opinion of her didn’t matter…or at least that’s what she told herself.
“I see why a man would be willing to risk his life to fall in love with an O’Malley. Come to bed, Sinead.”
He snagged her wrist and drew her towards him. She thought he might kiss her. She was disappointed when he didn’t. “You can sleep on the settee.”
“That’s one lesson well learned now, lass. I always sleep in the bed. Fuss and fight all you want, but I’ll never give up a bed. I’d prefer you sleep in the bed with me, but I’ll ring for an extra blanket it you’re preferring the sofa.”
She was short, but the settee didn’t look all that comfortable to her, either.
“I’ll thank you to stay on the far side of the bed.”
“I’m sure you would.” He grabbed her robe from the floor and tossed it over the back of a nearby chair.
“I’d like to sleep in that.”
“You’ll sleep nude to dissuade you from dashing out the door.”
Did he think of everything?
He left on his own clothes and climbed onto the bed. He lay next to her. “Rest. You can fight me later,” he said. “And I’m certain you will.”
Without allowing her the luxury of arguing, he held her. He had one arm around her waist; he pressed the other just above her pubic bone. In this position, her buttocks were nestled against the firmness of his pelvis.