“Jesus, Lucky.” I find myself saying my old name in frustration as I stomp through the snowy outskirts of the lodge. I left that name behind, dead and buried in Jersey. Now I’m Tiernan, my mother’s Irish maiden name. No longer Maximillian Luciano at all. Not that I ever went by Maximillian. All my life, I’ve been Lucky. Until I wasn’t.
I pull my rifle to my shoulder and peer through the sights, doing a slow sweep of the adjacent ridge. If those Hollywood perverts send someone after my Daphne, they’ll pay the price. I’m practically itching for a killing. Maybe it’d take the edge of this growing need I have to feel Daphne’s submission, to see her ass red beneath my palm and her pussy wet from her arousal.
My breath puffs out white around me as I clear the ridge, then sight down to the town of Frozen Falls. It’s quiet today, just a few cars. But the sheriff is still parked outside the estate-turned-hotel where some shit went down the week before. I smirk as I remember the fun I had there, the mercs I sent to their maker. Good times. Anyone who tries to hurt Daphne—or any of the women at the lodge—will meet the same fate.
I sling my rifle back over my shoulder and keep walking, my thoughts constantly drawn back to the meddling redhead. She was snooping through my things, trying to figure out how she knows me, I’m certain. But Lucky’s dead. I’m Tiernan, and reviving that dead part of me will lead to more trouble than I can even fathom. Old debts. Old vendettas.
Once I’m satisfied the area is clear, I head back inside, stomp the snow off my boots, and sling them and my coat into a closet. Something sweet floats on the air, another cake from Aurora, I’m guessing. But that’s not the sweetness I’m interested in. Where’s Daphne?
I hear a mattress squeaking as I plod past Bells and Barrow’s room, so I keep going and peek in the kitchen. Aurora and Diego are flirting over some batter. Daphne must be in my room. A vision of her naked and spread wide on my bed makes my cock jump. Not likely, but damn, the thought makes me speed my steps toward my room.
As I pass the living room I stop.
I. Fucking. Stop.
“What are youdoing?” I jump for Daphne.
“Hey!” She squeals, then falls over as I scoop her up. “What the hell are you—”
“You’re wearing what I told you not to wear.” I grit my teeth, my pulse pounding. “And you’re here in the living room spreading your legs like that?” I can’t think; my logic is long gone. It flew away the moment I saw the outline of her pussy in her tight shorts. Standing on her fucking head, her legs in a V. I could see it all, every line of her cunt ripe for my tongue.
“You told me I couldn’t use the gym in these clothes. You didn’t say anything about not doing yoga in the living room,” she simpers. Breathless. Dewy with sweat. Her skin pink from exertion.
“You know what I meant, Red,” I say through gritted teeth as I kick open my door and carry her to my bed. “Anyone could’ve seen what I just saw. Any of the men here could’ve seen—”
“Me doing yoga?” She blinks innocently as I drop her on the bed.
With a growl, I take her arm and whip around so she’s face down. “You did this on purpose, Daphne. Because you’re a brat.”
“I’m not a brat,” she protests, her words muffled by my black duvet.
With a hard yank, I pull her shorts down and off, her round ass on perfect display.
“Hey!” She starts to turn over, but I splay my hand across her upper back and push her down.
“You asked for this, little brat. Begged for it with that little display in the living room. Don’t act surprised when I give you exactly what you asked for.” I rear back and smack her ass.
Her squeal of surprise is exquisite.
I slap her skin again, my palm zinging as I let her know just how I feel about her putting her cunt on display for other men. Again and again I spank her ass until it’s red and warm under my touch. Each slap has her spreading her legs wider, her moans growing louder, her body becoming so malleable beneath my hands.
My cock aches at the sight of her, at her red hair wrapped in my fist, at the way she arches on each impact. I had no idea how erotic this could be.
“Such a perfect little brat.” I slap her a few more times, then drop to my knees and kiss her ass. Running my lips across the redness and massaging her with my hands, taking the sting away as I give in to my need to taste her. All of her.
Spreading her legs wider, I see her glistening cunt, the pinkness of it, how swollen it is. Because she wants this. Me. So I give her my tongue. Slowly at first, lapping at her wetness as she moans.
“Does it hurt here, little brat?” I lick her cunt.
“Y-yes.”
“Do you need a daddy to kiss it better?” The words roll off my tongue before I can really think about them. Another thing I had no idea before her that would get me this fucking hard.
Her breath hitches. “Tiernan.”
I lick her long and slow. “You taste so good.” I grip her hips. “Spread for Daddy.”
She moves her legs farther apart, and I dive in, licking and sucking her tender flesh, grazing her clit with my tongue and then impaling her.