Page 67 of While You Sleep

He kissed the back of my neck. “Love you like this, Soph, all soft and sleepy.” He cupped my breasts, squeezing in a leisurely way, toying with my nipples until they were hard points and I was squirming. This was like the first nights I was here, when he’d get into bed with me and make me come in the dark, like it was our little secret and no one else had to know. Something I could pretend hadn’t happened in the cold light of day.

“You want me to make you feel good, my beauty?” he asked against my ear and slid his hand down the front of my panties.

I did. I wanted him. I always wanted him. “Yes.”

He shifted so he was leaning against the headboard, taking me with him, and pulled me in between his legs so my back was to his front. The light from his phone broke through the darkness and he held it out in front of us. “Watch this,” he said with more than a little growl in his voice.

An image came onto view. I stiffened when a room appeared on the screen. My first thought was he knew something, that he knew my father had ambushed me in Tommy’s room and he knew what he’d done. But then I saw Conor.

“What is this?”

“Keep watching,” he said.

A moment later I walked into the room, my hair was all over the place. Conor looked up and smiled. I walked farther into the room and the rest of my body came into view. I was in a T-shirt and panties, lace ones that didn’t cover much of anything. The morning I was hungover. Shit.

“I can explain…”

“Best you do, pet, ’cause I have to tell you, I’m not fucking okay with my men seeing my wife in her underwear.” His lips went to my ear. “I can see your pussy right through them, which means so could Conor.”

“I was hungover, and I kind of blacked out some of the night before. I thought I was in my bathing suit. I hadn’t realized that you’d changed my clothes.”

“You’re lucky I didn’t take Conor’s eyes out. The only reason I let him live was because I know I can trust him.”

I was trembling, but not from fear, from the way his hands had moved up my inner thighs, kneading my flesh.

“Take off your panties,” he said.

I shoved them down, spreading my legs for him instantly.

“My dirty girl, always so eager,” he said and hooked my legs around his, trapping them and spreading them wide.

“I’m sorry. It won’t ever happen again,” I said, need making my voice tremble.

He put the phone aside, and the room was cast in darkness again. Then his hand was back, and he started circling my clit gently, grinding his hard cock into my ass. “How sorry?”

“Really, really sorry,” I whispered.

His mouth went to my ear again. “You know I have to punish you, don’t you, pet?”

Yes, I wanted him to punish me. Tonight, of all nights, I wanted to be punished. “W-why?” I said, even as I silently begged him for whatever it was he wanted to do to me. My pussy was bare and spread and dripping for him, for whatever happened next. I was vulnerable and at his mercy, and that was exactly what I needed.

“So you never do it again,” he said and spread me with the fingers of one hand right before the other came down on my bare flesh, the wet slap ringing out in the quiet room.

I cried out and arched against him. “Oh fuck.”

“No one sees this perfect pussy but me,” he growled and spanked my clit again.

I jerked in his arms, my thighs trembling.

“Understand?” he growled, then did it three more times in fast succession.

I screamed, coming, my pussy clenching against nothing, around nothing. I tried to shove my hand between my legs, and he gripped it in one of his, stopping me, then slapped me again. My mouth fell open, and I tried to pull away even as I begged for more. It was too much and not enough.

One of his arms banded across my chest, one big hand gripping my breast while the other started circling and rubbing my clit, making me whimper and squirm. I was sensitive, and he still had my legs trapped and spread. I wanted to scream for him to stop, yet wanting to keep riding the high. My orgasm hadn’t fully ended and the next was right there. “Punish me…please…I need you to punish me.”

“Such a greedy, wee pet,” he said and thrust two fingers inside me.

His hand left my breast and gripped my throat, then he was finger-fucking me so fast all I could do was sob and plead for him to make me come. He spread me wider and pushed in deeper, hitting me where I needed him the most. Then I was arching against him, coming again, writhing against his hand, my pussy clamping around his fingers hard. I knew I’d soaked the sheets, and I’d come twice, so fucking hard, but it wasn’t enough, not tonight. I felt mad with lust. I wanted more. “Please, I want it. Fuck me. Please, Cillian.”

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