Bottom Line: Callaghan Brothers, Book 8 (15 page)

“No peeking, no talking, no touching,” she moaned.  “I don’t like it.”

The whoosh of air came a split second before she felt the light sting against her backside.  No, not sting.  Stings.  As in more than one.  Her mind searched desperately to make sense of it.  Hadn’t she just read about something like this?  A flogger?  Cat o’ nine tails? 

Her mind was halted from considering the matter further when she felt it again, sharper this time.  A soft cry left her lips.

“It’s punishment.  You are not supposed to like it,” he said darkly.  She shivered, her traitorous body dampening even more for him.  There was no pain, only a lingering tingle.  The real punishment was having to remain still.

There were no more strikes.  No more words, but she could hear him breathing, heavier now than before.  Then her panties were viciously ripped away.  Aidan uttered a series of oaths around her hips as her true state of anticipation was revealed.  None of them were in English; she wasn’t sure of the language, but the sounds were both smooth and guttural at the same time, an exquisite blend of reverence and decadence that only made her burn that much hotter. 

She knew that he had discovered her surprise:  she was bare.  Bare and smooth.  She had heard his request, taken it to heart, and done this in the hopes that she would have the chance to show him.

Big hands wrapped around her upper arms and gently, but firmly, eased her backward onto the bed.  The cool feel of satin beneath her scorching flesh was welcome.  She felt the heat of his body as he leaned over her and lifted her arms above her head.  When he released them, she realized he had secured them to the bedpost.

“Aidan...” Her voice trembled, suddenly overcome with a feeling of powerlessness.  Yes, he had been commanding before, but this was different.  Perhaps she’d been fooling herself, but the last time he had assumed control she felt like she could have stopped him if she wanted to.

But wasn’t that exactly what she wanted?  Fantasizing about it was one thing, but actually doing it...

“Relax, Mary,” he breathed, his big hands stroking gently down her body.  “You are safe with me.  Relax and let me pleasure you.”

The tender caresses and his spoken assurance were exactly what she needed.  She nodded and did her best to sink into the feel of his skillful touch. 

* * *

W
hen she was suitably pliant, Aidan wedged himself between her legs, anticipation riding him hard.  His latest discovery sent a powerful thrill through him, running the length of his spine, electrifying the heavy, aching parts of him between his legs, and shooting down to where his feet were grounded solidly in the thick carpet. 

Mary was bare down there, smooth and perfect.  Her skin was dewy and soft, like fresh rose petals; her scent, a potent aphrodisiac that had his head swimming with lust and the urge, no, the need, to taste her. 

And wet.  So very wet.  Had she come for him already, silently and obediently, from just his preparation?  The thought empowered him.  Dipping his head, his tongue emerged and stroked along the sweetly coated flesh as her thighs quivered along either side of his head.

She cried out, breaking her silence, but he allowed it.  She was already lost in her desire.  Those breathy, uncontrolled sounds she made, probably without even realizing it, fueled his arousal.

* * *

H
e did such wonderful things with that glorious tongue.  He licked.  He suckled.  He nipped and pulled, circled and teased, pushing her to the edge before falling back again.  He did this several times before she registered the slightest pressure of his fingers in the cleft of her behind.

He was spreading something cool there.  Something cool and slick.  She tried to focus on what he was doing, but it was impossible when there was so much going on elsewhere.  His broad shoulders pushed against her inner thighs, forcing them to stay wide and open when all she wanted to do was squeeze them tightly together.  One hand caressed her breasts, plucking one nipple, then the other.  Then both nipples were being pinched at the same time, but that was impossible, because his other hand was working her sex now, his thumb penetrating her there while another, longer finger stroked teasingly farther back... 

But she couldn’t think about that now, because that wasn’t his finger edging into her back there anymore.  It couldn’t be.  It felt different.  Bigger.  Thicker.  Tapered and smooth.  It felt wrong, and exquisitely right, all at the same time.  The pressure there, it was doing things to her, things she couldn’t control, things she didn’t want to control.

“It’s okay, Mary,” Aidan breathed.  “Relax.  I’ve got you.  I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.”

Did she want this?  The answer was a resounding YES! 

More importantly, she
needed
.  What exactly she needed, she didn’t know.  But Aidan did.  She began to beg, to sob, to plead for him to do something – anything – to stop the agony, the ecstasy.

And then she felt him, thick and rigid, pushing against her entrance.  He moved slowly, stretching her one tiny centimeter at a time, taking a full minute before he managed to insert just his swollen tip into her.  It was tight, so much tighter with the slight pressure from the back, and the constant pinch at her nipples.

“You okay, baby?” he asked quietly.

“More,” she rasped, realizing that her voice was nearly gone now.  Had she been screaming?  “More, please, more, yes, Aidan, please, more...”

* * *

I
t broke something inside of him.  Even his beast was moved by her heartfelt pleas.  Needing to feel her touch, he released her from the cuffs.  Mary took immediate advantage, wrapping her arms around him.  With one sudden thrust of his hips, he buried himself deep inside her.  She wept in relief, begging him to take pity on her, scoring his back with her nails. 

Aidan moved within her.  He pulled out until nothing but the tip remained at the very rim of her entrance, then slammed into her.  Again.  And again.  Until it was no longer an exercise in sexual dominance or a game of seduction, but a need so deep it surpassed anything he’d ever felt before.

His strokes became smoother, metered, angled for maximum pleasure.  It only took a few before he found himself teetering on the edge. 

He was so close.  So was she.  He should pull out and finish her off with his fingers, but then he would miss the feel of what was sure to be the most earth-shattering orgasm he’d ever felt.

And then he realized he didn’t have to.  There was no reason to.  Mary belonged to him.  She was his. 

The beast roared in agreement. 
Mark her
, it said. 
Claim her.  Make her ours forever...

Aidan increased the speed and intensity of his strokes.  He felt her whole body tense, felt her sheath began to close around him convulsively.  Squeezing.  Rippling.  Stroking him until he exploded.

The first jet shot inside her even as he continued to move, desperate to prolong her orgasm and his.  It was incredible.  To feel the heat spreading around him with each pulse, the knowledge that he was coming inside her, spilling himself into her, giving himself to her in a way he had never given himself to another.

When she had milked every last drop from him, he collapsed to the side. 

* * *

M
ary was only vaguely aware of the pressure easing from her breasts, the fullness leaving her backside.  All she knew was that Aidan’s warm naked body was pulling her closer.

She had nothing left.  No strength.  No will.  And not enough energy to even care.  Secure in the knowledge that he would care for her, she snuggled against him and breathed a sigh of profound relief.

* * *

S
omething epic had happened, he realized, as he looked down at her face in the near darkness, so soft and youthful in slumber.  He had pushed her too hard.  Taken it too far.  Crossed lines he never should have crossed.

But he didn’t regret it.

Because he now knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that a
croie had
been created for him and him alone. 

His perfect mate. 

The other half of his soul. 

N
ow that he’d consciously accepted what he suspected some part of him had known since New Year’s Eve, it was as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.  There was no more doubt, no more worrying or wondering if he would ever find a woman capable of satisfying all of his needs. 

Mary was genuinely kind and compassionate.  She owned her own business and was a valued member of a small and close-knit community.  More than capable of caring for herself, she allowed him to care for her without being needy or clingy.  And even though she had the sub thing down, she liked to take control once in a while, too, as her little surprise on the drive last night proved.

Most importantly, she did all this without knowledge of his wealth and power. 

That would change soon enough.  Convinced as he was of her sincerity, he no longer had any wish to keep such things from her.  On the contrary, he was very much looking forward to showing her just how much better her life was going to be soon.

Mary sighed softly, but she did not wake.  As much as he wanted to take her again, he would let her sleep a little longer.  She had earned an extra bit of pampering. 

He eased himself from her bed, being careful not to wake her.  She frowned in her sleep at the lack of contact, making him smile.

Max was waiting in the hallway.  He greeted Aidan as if he emerged from his mistress’s bedroom every morning. 

“Mary’s still sleeping,” Aidan said quietly when Max kept looking at the door.  “What do you say you and I make her breakfast?”

Aidan started to chastise himself for talking to the dog as if he was a person, but then stopped when Max seemed to think about it for a minute, then gave him a big doggie grin.

They padded into the kitchen together.  Max went right over to his dish, picked it up in his teeth, and brought it over to Aidan.  Aidan stared down at him in disbelief, then took the bowl from him.  Max moved over and stood in front of one cupboard in particular, nosing the knob.  Guessing at what he would find there, Aidan followed him and opened the door.  Yep.  Dog food.

Shaking his head, he filled Max’s bowl and got him some fresh water.  He’d always thought caring for a pet would be a pain in the ass, but he found he actually kind of enjoyed this.

“I don’t suppose you know where she keeps the coffee, do you?” he asked, only half-jokingly.  Max tilted his head and regarded him.  If he knew, he wasn’t telling.

As it turned out, the coffee was in a canister (helpfully labeled “coffee”) right near the coffee maker, which was an old-fashioned percolator.  He’d never actually used one before, but he figured the CEO of a multi-million dollar corporation should be able to figure it out.  It took a great deal longer than he would have liked (he really should have paid more attention when taking out the innards), but eventually he got it. 

Resisting the urge to thump his chest in victory, he began a methodical search for mugs, sugar, and maybe a box of cereal.  Still riding high on the success of figuring out the whole coffee thing, he briefly considered attempting scrambled eggs, but there was no sense getting crazy. 

Soon the rich smell of brewing coffee filled the kitchen.  Max nosed the string of little bells hanging from the back door.  Aidan guessed that was a polite way of asking to be let out, so he opened the door.  Before he could close it again, he saw an older woman from the house next door openly gaping at him.  Wearing only a pair of unbuttoned jeans riding low on his slim hips, Aidan took great delight in offering her a huge smile and a cheery wave.  No doubt Mary would pay the price for that later, but he’d find some way to make it up to her.

Even more pleased with himself, Aidan resumed his quest for carb-laden sustenance.  By the time he’d worked his way half way around the kitchen, he wondered if maybe Mary didn’t even eat cereal.

Success
!  He finally found several boxes tucked away in the lazy-Susan shelves in the corner cabinet.  Count Chocula, Reese’s PB Puffs, and Lucky Charms.  He grinned.  He should have known his
croie
would have a sweet tooth.

Unable to choose just one, he grabbed all three boxes with the intention of mixing them together, going on the assumption that if one tasted good, all three together would be even better. (There was a reason why Lexi was very adamant about Aidan handling the business side of things and letting her oversee the menu).

As he swiveled the tray back into place, his eye caught the corner of a white satin box.  It was not on one of the shelves, but shoved far into the back, probably from the adjoining cabinet.  Intrigued, he pulled it out.

In the bright sunlight, Aidan could see that the white satin had yellowed somewhat.  There was a fine layer of dust across the top, too, making the faux pearls and ribbons adorning it look like they had been sprinkled with extra-fine confectioner’s sugar. 

Aidan recognized it as a memory box; Lexi used to keep something similar.  Every time they visited a new country, she’d slip some small token inside.  Then, once in a while she would take it out and they would laugh and remember all the places they’d been, the things they’d seen and done together.

So why would Mary hide something like this back in the far reaches of her cupboard?  Wouldn’t she keep it somewhere where she could add to it?  Or take it out and sift through it?

Aidan sat the box on the table, curious but reluctant to open it. 

Instead, he fixed himself a bowl of cereal (all three really did go well together) and ate it standing up, leaning against the counter and staring at the box as if it might suddenly grow teeth and snarl at him.  When he was finished, he rinsed out the bowl and put it in the dishwasher. 

Aidan let Max in and gave him a treat from the cookie jar sporting a big ceramic Milk Bone.  Then he poured another cup of coffee, sat down at the table, and stared at the box some more.