Tully (Dangerous Doms 7)

Thump.

I get a little zing from that.

“What do you mean?”

He does that thing with his lips, all scowly and stern, those dark eyes glittering like fragments of obsidian.

“You know exactly what I mean.” He reaches and takes Cookie from my arms. She snuggles right up against that massive wall of chest of his and purrs, the traitor.

“Head to the tub,” Tully says, jerking his head in the direction of the loo. “Strip.”

“Now? We just got home!”

“Now.”

I give him a pout as I kick off my shoes, but I’m not really bothered at all. I like this dance of cat and mouse we play. My shoes hit the wall and he doesn’t flinch, just keeps his gaze on me as I walk through the living room toward the bedroom.

“Draw a bath,” he says, his deep voices reverberating in the room. “Then strip.”

He’s punishing me by making me take a bath? How odd.

I walk to the large, circular tub. It’s scrubbed crystal clean, as housekeeping comes in twice a day and does the tidying up.

It’s absolutely gorgeous in here. The tub is nestled into the corner of the room, a window above it high enough so no one can look in, but wide enough for us to see beyond, to the depths of the Irish Sea. The tiles at the bottom of the tub are a pale, sea-foam green, accented in dark greens along the edge. Fluffy, cream-colored towels are piled high in a basket beside the tub, and bottles of lotions and soaps are nestled in a little basket on the edge of the tub.

“It’s like a spa in here.”

“Oh, aye. They’ve done it up nicely.”

He stands in the doorway, his hands on his hips. “But what did I tell you?”

“Working on it,” I say, quickly moving to obey. I strip out of my clothes and toss them into a nearby hamper, as hot, steaming jets of water fill the tub. He takes a little bottle from the basket, squirts some soap into the tub, and instantly fragrant bubbles billow up.

He reaches over, tests the temperature of the water, and frowns.

“Bit hot,” he says, adjusting the knobs. For some reason, my heart does a little thump at that. I love when my big, strong man gets all concerned and gentle.

A moment later, he’s at my side, and he’s helping me yank the rest of my clothes off.

“Not moving fast enough for you?” I ask, which earns me a good crack to the backside. Heat rocks through me.

“Nope.”

Seconds later, all my clothes lay in a heap in the laundry basket.

“Bend over the side of the tub.”

I blink. “What?”

He places one hand on a hip, while he does a little twirly motion with his right hand. “Turn around,” he says slowly. “And bend yourself over the side of the tub.”

There’s a lump of nerves in my throat and my heart’s beating desperately. I don’t know what he’s planning.

“I have exactly five more minutes before I need to be downstairs,” he says. And without warning, there’s a clink of metal, a swish, then the slap of something unyielding across my arse. I gasp.

“Tully!”

Thwap.

I gasp at the fiery feel of leather on my naked skin. I crane my neck over my shoulder, not at all surprised to find he’s removed his belt, and folded it in his hand.

“Back around,” he snaps.

I scramble back in position, just in time for two more sharp lashes of the belt.

My mind goes blank, as I grip the tub, heat coursing through my body. He loves to punish me, to remind me he’s the one in charge, and as much as I fight it, I love when he does.

“Now, then,” he says sternly, lacing his belt back through the loops of his trousers, while my heart thumps madly in my chest, and heat rises in my core. He’s left me all hot and bothered.

His large, rough hands, go around my hips.

“You’ll wait for me to come back. And while you do, you can relax a bit in the tub.”

I nod wildly, as my body heats even more, and my heart skips in my chest. One of his hands rests on my lower back, while his other hand spreads my legs further apart.

“I told you I’d have my way with you, McKenna. Didn’t I?”

I nod mutely.

“So you’ll wait for me, lass.”

I freeze when something cold slides along my inner thigh.

His command is sharp. “Spread your legs.”

I obey, trembling. Whatever he’s got in his hands pulses as he slides it into me. And just that quickly, my nerves ignite.

I grip the edge of the tub, as vibrations ricochet through me.

“In the tub,” he says. His palm cracks across my arse to get me moving. “Here are the rules.”

Of course he’d have rules. I climb up the steps, then begin the slow descent into the steaming, bubble-filled bath. I sigh in contentment as the warm water laps at my naked skin. I sit comfortably, leaning back against the tub, when the little dildo he placed in me begins a harder, faster vibration.