Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81374 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81374 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
“Okay,” I whisper. “Oh, God, Lachlan. I’m too sensitive. Please…”
Still, he doesn’t stop. “Will you obey me?” he whispers, with another agonizing swipe of his tongue.
I nod. “Yes, yes, of course.”
“And what happens to naughty girls who don’t do as they’re told?” he says with another torturous lick.
“They—oh, God—they get punished.”
I never knew sex could be a form of punishment until now.
“Please stop,” I beg. I’m so sensitized it almost hurts, when he plunges two fingers in my core and pumps.
“You sure?” he asks. I can’t take anymore. It’s too much, too fucking much.
I nod, surprised to find I can hardly breathe.
Mercifully, he pulls his mouth off of me and kisses the bites on my thigh, my belly, up the column of my neck and the slopes of my arms. Bite, lick, suckle, God.
“That’s enough, now,” he says. He comes up to me on the couch and tugs me to his chest. “Have you learned your lesson?”
I nod. I’m surprisingly a little shaky. He draws his arms over me. I feel remorseful for not obeying him, for trying to override his commands. I know who he is. I know how he functions. And I know a man like him is used to being obeyed. I’ve witnessed the men of the Clan now for years, and I know they were raised to be just like this. It’s old-fashioned, but there’s no use fighting it, either. And I’m honestly not sure I would if I could.
“You alright, lass?” he asks quietly.
“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.”
“Good girl.”
“That was excruciating.”
“Worse than a whipping?” he asks sternly.
I shiver. “I wouldn’t know.”
A corner of his lips quirks up, and he rubs my shoulder gently. “Then you’d better be sure to behave yourself. You know I won’t hesitate to turn you across my knee, or take my belt to that backside of yours if I have to.”
I give him a pouty look. “You’ve been wanting to do that for years.”
He groans. “You have no idea.”
He sighs and drags his hand down my back, then through my hair again. “Christ, I needed that more than I thought I did,” he says. “Thank you.”
“Am I well-marked now?” I ask, pushing myself up to give him a quizzical look.
“Aye, love,” he says with a grin. He brushes my hair off my shoulders and kisses the hickey he left there, then runs his fingertip over a bite mark. “They’ll see these marks.” He runs his hand over to where he came on me. Though he’s washed me off, it’s almost as if I can still feel where he branded me. “And I’ll know these marks are here.”
I nod. “Aye.” I whisper.
We lay like that on the loveseat for a very long time, until the sun dips low on the horizon. My phone buzzes on a nearby table, but I don’t move. I think I might even fall asleep for a bit. I’m so safe like this, so content, when he rouses me with a smile. “Let’s get ready to go.”
“I don’t have clean clothes, though. Can I go back to the dorm?” I ask him.
“No dorm, love, no,” he says. “But I’ve had clothes brought here.”
I really hope it wasn’t my brother that brought them, but I don’t say anything to him.
He wants me to trust him. So, I’ll do just that.
I get up and walk across the room to my phone while he goes to the door to fetch something. I sit on the edge of the bed to read my texts. Four messages from Aisling, two from Sheena, one from Megan. I sigh and read quickly through them.
Sheena just wants to see if I’m okay, Aisling wants to know if I have plans tonight and ARE YOU OKAY?? IS HE BEING GOOD TO YOU? HE BETTER BE TREATING YOU WELL OR HE WILL ANSWER TO ME.
Megan has sent me loads of questions.
Oh my God I heard your guard was killed.
And that Lachlan took the PRIVATE JET to come find you. He might’ve been all aloof and WHATEVER before, but girl, that man has just STAKED HIS CLAIM.
I giggle to myself. If she had any idea.
“What’s so funny over there?” Lachlan asks with mock sternness. He stands in the doorway, the hotel door fastened and bolted behind him, and I let myself stare at him. He’s got a towel around his neck and another around his waist. His scruffy beard and endless hazel eyes, the ink that skates down his neck, over his shoulders, down his arms. Everything about him exudes confidence and power.
“Oh, nothing,” I tease. “Nothing at all.”
“Tisn’t nothing, and you know it,” he says. “What are you all smug about?”
I burst out laughing as he reaches the bed.
“Megan said you’ve staked your claim.”
“Bloody well have,” he says soberly.
“I was just… well, I was just thinking that she doesn’t even know the half of it, does she?”