“Go on.”
“I’ve imagined what it’s like to be spanked or whipped, but I—” She opens her eyes and gives me a reproachful look. “It’s nothing like what you did to me.”
“Aye,” I say with a smile, fingering her again so that the look of reproach vanishes. “It rarely is.”
“What?”
“Fantasy versus reality. But have you thought of your whipping since I gave it to you?” I stroke her harder. Faster. Her clit pulses against my finger, and she whimpers but doesn’t answer.
I freeze.
Aileen’s a quick study, and she understands that if she answers me, I reward her, and if she doesn’t, I don’t.
“Yes,” she admits in a choked whisper. “I… I have.”
“Good girl. That’s a good answer.” I stroke her again. “What else do you think about?”
“I think of… being taken from behind.”
I chuckle at that. “Is that right, sweet girl? On your hands and knees?”
“Yes,” she breathes. “I imagine that’s… that I’d feel dominated then.”
“You would.” I’d see to that.
“I fantasize about several men, sometimes,” she whispers. She continues without prompting, lifting her hips to meet my hand as I stroke faster. The way she’s panting and gripping me for support, I know she’s getting closer to climax. “One fucking me while the other… oh God… one eating me out while the other licked my nipples, or one fucking me from behind while the other worked my clit.”
I will never share my wife with another soul. But I have other methods that will push her to the brink, make her feel various sensations while she climaxes over, and over, and over again.
“You’re a dirty little girl.” I cluck my tongue. “I’ll have to punish you for that.” I circle the edge of her tight hole gently before returning to her clit.
“No punishment,” she breathes.
“You’ll learn to beg for that, too.”
“Please, Cormac.”
“Please what?”
“Let me come.”
I fondle her breast while I stroke her pussy, then whisper in her ear, “Come, Aileen. Do it. Let yourself go.” I tweak her nipple, then bite her neck. She throws her head back and moans. If I weren’t holding her up, I reckon she’d fall, she’s that overtaken by the bliss that races through her. She moans and pants, rocking her hips as I stroke her to completion until she slumps against me. Spent.
“Good girl.” I kiss her cheek and spin her around to face me. On instinct, I draw her near and embrace her. “I love to make you come.”
She drops her head to my chest and holds onto me but doesn’t speak. I give her just a moment to recover.
“Let’s get you dressed now. I have to meet my brothers.”
“What about…” her voice trails off.
“Yes?”
She places her hand on my hip. “What about you?” Her cheeks flush pink when she asks me that.
“I’ll get mine later,” I promise with a wink that makes her giggle. Just when I think I can’t take her sass, or her feistiness, her temper or her mouth, she does something cute.
By the time we get downstairs, many of my brothers have assembled in the dining room.
Boner sees me first and sends up a loud, raucous cheer. “Welcome to the newlywed couple!” He bobs on his feet like an overexcited puppy, nearly spilling his tea.
Nolan, standing by the buffet pouring himself a cup of coffee, grins at me. Caitlin and Keenan, sitting at the large dining room table, clap, and Tully, buttering a scone at the very end of the table, hoots. Aileen smiles shyly.
I pull out a chair beside Caitlin and gesture for her to sit.
“Tell me what you want and I’ll get it for you.”
“I can get my own food,” she says, but I shake my head.
She looks a little pink around the ears but doesn’t balk. She looks at the table laden with food. We often have a buffet-style meal in the morning, so that our men can eat on their own time. “Wow, that’s quite a spread. Okay… two scones, with butter, some clotted cream, a couple of fried eggs with some sausage, and some berries, please.”
I nod while she pours herself a cup of tea, then pile the food on her plate.
“Girls’ got an appetite,” Boner says approvingly in my ear.
“Aye.” I’m glad that she does. I like a girl that can eat.
“Hope she’s got another appetite as well,” he says with a wink.
“Shut it, Boner,” I say, but can’t help but smile at him.
He guffaws. “For Christ’s sake, would ya look at you, the feckin’ cat that caught the canary.”
“Cat? Fuckin’ lion,” Nolan corrects with a snort.
“Shut it.” There’s no avoiding talk of sex, but I don’t want Aileen to be embarrassed. I look back to where she sits. She’s busy in conversation with Caitlin.
“Heard you brought evidence of yer claimin’ to the club, eh?” Nolan asks.
“Aye. Had to.”
“Also heard you busted her brother’s nose and gave him two black eyes.”