I wonder if she’s forgotten where she is. She certainly doesn’t look like she cares anymore. Her protests die on her lips as she pinches her nipples through the thin fabric and I continue the slow, deliberate spanking I’ve been eager to deliver.
“Pinch them.”
Smack. My dick throbs. She moans.
“Again.”
Smack.
“Oh God.” She’s panting in earnest now, while I give her one hard swat after another, pausing between strokes of my palm while she works her breasts.
“Good girl,” I whisper. “Just like that.” I lift her back onto my lap upright, facing me. “Keep going,” I tell her. I lift the edge of her dress and slide my hands beneath it. Still, not a soul looks our way. She could be giving me a lap dance for all they know. I touch her swollen pussy and finger her clit. The first stroke of my fingers has her throwing her head back. The second, she’s gasping for breath.
“Come,” I breathe in her ear. “Let yourself go. Come for me, sweetheart.”
She moans, losing herself to ecstasy. Her head rolls backward, her eyes closed tightly, and beneath my fingers she pulses against my hand. I savor every moan and gasp, loving the way she spasms on my lap while she milks her pleasure.
“Good girl,” I say. “Just like that, love. Come for me.”
I stroke her until she slumps against me, spent and sated, and it’s the most beautiful fucking thing I’ve ever seen. Her pale, soft skin flushed pink with pleasure. Thick black eyelashes against her cheeks, her eyes closed in bliss. Her golden hair tumbling about her shoulders, fragrant and silky. Her gorgeous body limp with pleasure.
“Christ, you’re so beautiful it kills me,” I say to her. She smiles, leans forward, and burrows into my chest. Instinctively, I wrap my arms around her and hold her. Warmth floods my chest. I know she’s just come, that she’s still high on endorphins, but it pleases me that she trusts me like this. That she seeks my comfort and closeness.
She places one hand on my chest. I lift her palm to my lips and kiss her, fold her fingers over, then tuck her hand back onto her chest.
“A kiss to take home?” she whispers.
“Aye.”
She smiles. “Never would’ve taken you for a sentimental man, Mr. McCarthy.”
“Seems there’s something about a beautiful lass wearing my ring and bearing my child that does strange things to me.”
I hold her, nestled in my arms, all soft and warm, as the music plays on and couples mill about in various stages of dance and erotic foreplay. The air is pungent with the scent of sex and drink, as I plan on where I want to take her next.
Nolan’s a few meters ahead of me, laughing and drinking with a woman dressed in red. To his right I see Boner and Tully sitting at a table with a few girls. I scan the room, always on the lookout for Blaine, when something catches my eye.
I narrow my eyes and look harder. Mother of God. Though she’s dressed in all black and her hair’s tucked into a wig, I swear to God that’s the redheaded reporter. Doesn’t she know we frequent this place? Does she have no shame?
“What is it, Cormac?” Aileen sits up and peers at me. “I could feel your body go all still like. Something amiss?”
“Aye,” I growl, gently pushing her off my lap. But before I can even get to my feet, there’s a commotion ahead.
Jesus. Three blokes approach Nolan all at once, and I can tell by the way they carry themselves they’re after him.
“Stay with me,” I say to Aileen. I can feel her at my back as I head to Nolan. I have to warn him before they attack him without notice.
I get to him seconds before one of the men pulls a knife. Son of a bitch wants to stick him without anyone noticing.
“Nolan!”
He looks my way. There’s no time to warn him. I tackle him to the floor as the man attacks. Boner and Tully are at my side. Fists are flying, women screaming. Glass breaks, and something hot and sticky covers my hands.
I blink in surprise when I see someone’s cut Nolan. There’s a savage laceration across his forehead. Blood drips into his eyes.
“Motherfucker,” he mutters, trying to see who attacked him. I catch the prick by the back of the shirt, tackle him to the ground, then knock him out with a solid blow. Security officers swarm us, and seconds after we’ve got his attackers under wraps, I look around me for Aileen. She was just there, just at my back.
Son of a bitch.
“Aileen!” I shout. “Aileen!”
But she’s nowhere to be found. She’s fucking gone.Chapter 20AileenI follow behind Cormac, certain that something’s wrong. Does this have anything to do with why I’m here? Why I was summoned? Goddammit, I let myself get seduced by my own husband and damn near forgot why I came here to begin with.