Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 43571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
My hands closed to fists at the thought of the who she’d been with that night.
“You don’t think…”
Wilder shook his head, his eyes fierce.
“No. If that little punk had actually gotten anything from her, she’d have told us. If only just to spite us.”
“Brat,” I growled.
“No shit. But c’mon, we dealt with all sorts of bullshit Marine arrogance and unruliness over there. We can handle this.”
“We, huh?”
Wilder’s jaw twitched as he nodded. “You and me both, man. Don’t put this all on me.”
I arched a brow. “You’re saying I’m in charge of disciplining your niece—”
“Not my niece,” he muttered, far too quickly, like maybe he was reminding himself that little but important fact too.
“And yes,” he added. “You’re in charge around here too. She’s out of control. Maybe she needs two firm hands of discipline. Or four, fuck, whatever, you know what I mean.”
I nodded.
“But I think we went too far tonight,” I muttered.
“Same.”
“We can’t let it—”
I almost said “go there with her,” but I stopped myself.
“We can’t let things escalate like that.”
My friend nodded curtly. “I’ll say something tomorrow, I guess. You know, apologize for, you know.”
For spanking her.
For punishing her naughty, tight little ass like I knew both of us had been dying to do since the second she’d stepped into our world.
“But for real, man...” Wilder eyed me. “You know I’m gone tomorrow. Just keep her out of trouble while I’m gone.”
My buddy was off to the city to settle some final accounting stuff from a few of the auxiliary branches of our business. And it looked like I was in charge.
Of her.
My job to keep her out of trouble.
My job to keep my eye on her.
My job to discipline her should she try and act out again.
…I’d be lying if I said my cock didn’t throb rock-fucking-hard at the thought.
6
Mackenzie
I came three times that night. After what happened in the living room, and after feeling Wilder’s firm hands on my body and Lincoln’s heated gaze locked on mine, my entire core was on fire. I barely made it to my room before I slammed the door, locked it, and tore my clothes off. I didn’t even get my panties off before I fell into bed — ass up, face down into my pillows, and both hands buried between my legs.
I came the first time in about thirty seconds. The second I took my time with, panting into my sheets as I imagined Wilder spanking me again, and this time pulling my panties to the side and running his fingers up and down my slippery, sticky pussy.
I imagined Lincoln doing more than watching. I pictured him stroking himself the way I’d seen in the shower that day. I imagined him moving closer, his hand wrapped around his big, thick cock, touching me while Wilder did the same.
The third time I came, my mind went to a place I’d barely ever gone before. That time, I fantasized about them doing more than touching me. I imagined them forcing me to my knees, and unzipping their pants. I imagined their hands in my hair, and cupping my jaw and touching my body while I wrapped my lips around their cocks. I imagined sliding down onto Lincoln, and then Wilder.
I imagined the two of them taking me together, and when I went there, my whole body exploded in the dark of my bedroom, and my cries drowned in my pillows as the orgasm shattered through me.
The next day, I padded downstairs in a sort of hazy glow. I was nervous, and if I’m being honest, a little ashamed. I mean, Wilder had spanked me last night. He’d seen how fucking wet my panties had gotten. And he’d said something.
My face reddened as I walked towards the big kitchen, and when I remembered what I’d said back, I blushed even deeper. But I took a big, shaky breath, let the air out slowly, and then stepped into the kitchen for breakfast.
They were both there, but aside from two curt, stony nods, neither of them said a word. Lincoln’s eyes lingered a second longer than Wilder’s maybe, but he too turned back to his coffee and paper, clearing his throat as I stood there awkwardly in the doorway.
This, I hadn’t expected.
Coldness. They were both sitting there like the night before hadn’t even happened. I bit my lip, screaming on the inside for something. But all I got was silence. I poured myself a coffee and sipped it sulking, chewing on my lip as I tried to figure out where we went from here.
Suddenly, Wilder cleared his throat and stood.
“Alright, I’ve gotta run.”
For the first time, I realized he was dressed up entirely — not just the button up shirt and jeans he usually wore, like Lincoln was. He was in a full suit — dark that only made his dark eyes blaze even hotter as he leveled them at me.