Tiernan (Dangerous Doms 6)

I don’t respond. She won’t be for long. I’ve held her while she cried, rocked her while her body was wracked with fever and pain, and now she’s acting like this? I don’t care if she’s still in the throes of withdrawal. I don’t care what she’s doing. She won’t behave this way.

Doesn’t matter if she locked the door. I have the key in my pocket.

I slide it in and open the door, just as a soup bowl goes sailing through the air toward my head.

I duck. It crashes and splatters everywhere.

Cormac shakes his head.

“I’ll leave you to your… job,” he says with a smirk. “Good luck, Tiernan. Call me if you need a bit of a reprieve for the night and I’ll arrange for someone else to watch her for a little while.”

The hell I will. No fucking way.

“Thanks very much,” I say. He’ll show himself to the door.

I enter the room to find another glass sailing through the air toward my head.

“How dare you keep me prisoner!” she shouts. “I won’t tell anyone anything. You’re keeping me away from everything! My job. My home. My friends.”

But I know what she really wants is her fucking fix, and I’ve had enough. I duck another flying saucer, bend and duck, lift and arrange her right over my shoulder.

“Put me down!” she shouts, slapping at my back. I put her down when I’m good and ready, straight over my fucking knee. I sit on the edge of the bed and press my hand to her lower back, holding her in place.

“Let me go!” she screams, but I ignore her. Without prelude, I slam my palm against her arse, and she arches her back and screams.

“Let me down! Let me go!” But I ignore her protests and give her the sound thrashing she’s earned. Her legs scissor and kick and she fights me hard, but I hold her in place and let my palm fly.

She screams and howls and squeals, but I don’t put her down until her protests begin to wane, and she sniffles a little. Good. I’ve gotten through to her.

I tug her back over my lap to face me, grab her chin between my fingers, and lock her gaze with mine.

“Don’t you ever throw things at me again,” I say in an even tone. “Ever.”

The anger and fight have left her eyes. They’re now swimming with tears. She nods.

“Be a good girl, Aisling. If you don’t, you’ll be in a heap of trouble, lass.”

She nods again.

I lean in and kiss her cheek. I remember what Cormac says. I drag my hand over her shoulder, and she shivers a little. She wears a thin tank top with no bra, her nipples peaking right through the ribbed fabric. I drag my hand lower, weigh her breast in my palm then drag my thumb over the peaked bud.

She moans, and it spurs me on.

“Take it off.”

She scrambles to obey, her fingers at the edge of the top in seconds. She yanks it off and whips it to the floor. I lace my fingers behind her back, bend, and grasp her nipple between my teeth. Her head lolls back and her spine arches as I suckle her sweet, hardened nipples. I circle my tongue, and she moans.

I press my thumb between her thighs, and she arches into me. I lift my fingers to the edge of her shorts, pull them back, then slide my fingers over her panties to where she’s hot and wet. I stroke her gently, and she moans and whimpers. It’s better than the crying and pleading.

I’m not surprised to find her wet and needy, ready to come at a moment’s notice. I continue to suckle her nipple while I stroke her pussy, until her hips are jerking, her body arches, her breathing becomes hitched, and I increase the tempo of my strokes.

“Good girl,” I whisper, before I capture the second nipple between my teeth and give it the same treatment as the first. “Just like that. Take your mind off your troubles.”

She’s panting, grinding against my hand, as I continue to suckle and tease, lick and stroke.

She lets out a low-pitched moan, and I know she’s going to lose it at any moment. I bend and whisper in her ear. “Come, Aisling.” Just before I take her earlobe between my teeth and bite.

Holding her breath, her body tight with tension, she throws her head back, and with one more stroke of my fingers, she comes so hard she screams, the sexy sound of her voice filling my room.

“Good girl,” I whisper. “Just like that.”

She shakes her head but doesn’t reply, as her body spasms against my fingers and she whimpers. Her hips jerk, arms strewn about my neck as if to prevent herself from falling.

When she’s done, I hold her to me, and her breathing steadies.