Page 15 of Evil Eyed
At the bedside, I twisted my wrist to change the angle of her head. She could see the leprechaun—but not touch. I kept her lifted on her toes until she made the sweetest fucking sound that always did me in. Part whimper, part groan that made my dick throb with anticipation.
“Time to wear some green sparkles,mo stór.”
Twisting in my grip, she moaned again, her hands stretching out toward the bed, though I kept her upright.
“How many swats am I going to give you before you make him come?”
“Not fair,” she panted. “Warwick’s magical. He has way too much stamina.”
“Very true,” Warwick replied. “You’ll need to set some rules for this game if you want her to be able to sit down tomorrow.”
Not to mention my arm would tire out eventually, though if I had my way, I could spank her for hours. Soft, gentle pats to wake up her skin. A sharp slap and then a stroke. A tease. I could make her come half a dozen times before her ass bruised. Though yeah, I wanted to really light up her skin. Cherry ass cheeks. Hard, deep swats that would make her gasp. Maybe cry.
A twinge of guilt crawled through my lust, dulling its edge. I wished that I could dull that side of me as easily. The dismal, hard bastard who relished being cruel and selfish.
“Make me forget,” she whispered, breaking through the haze of self-recrimination clouding my head.
I snaked my other arm around her waist, pulling her back against me, sheltering her from whatever caused her pain. “Forget what?”
“That my entire life has either been a lie or a miserable mistake.”
My jaws clenched on that gut-wrenching wound. “You’re not a lie or a mistake. Period.”
She jerked against my grip as if she would have stomped out of the room if I didn’t have a handful of her hair. Her thoughts raged like a hurricane, an out-of-control tumult that boiled inside her, seeking release. She wanted me to hurt her enough to help get that rage out. To release all the hurt and confusion and doubts in tears and climaxes both. To tiptoe along the line of too much. Even while keeping her safe.
It dawned on me that she had never felt safe as a child, or as an adult. She’d never had a nurturing home or a loving family, other than her friend. While Red had done her best to be a good friend, she hadn’t been able to protect Riann from her own parents or husband. She’d never had someone fight for her. Let alone take care of her, no matter how raw or ugly that need might be. She’d only been alone, out of place, or worse, fed on by the motherfucker who’d trapped her in marriage and then damaged her mind and memories for years.
She wanted to hurt enough to cry—but still be safe and loved and cared for. She needed to be a little scared. A little dangerous. Harsh and rough and raw—but safe.
In short, she neededme.
I locked my arm around her abdomen, making it harder for her to breathe. “I didn’t say you could move a muscle.” Panting, she froze, her body quivering against mine. I lowered my tone to the harshest, meanest snarl. “You’re going to suck the leprechaun’s dick until he’s ready to explode but you’re not allowed to come. I don’t care how long it takes. Do you understand?”
Tension bled out of her. Acceptance. Relief. Unconscious, perhaps, but her body recognized that I understood what it needed, even if she hadn’t wrapped her mind around what she wanted yet.
“Don’t move.” I released my fierce grip on her so I could shove her jeans down her mouthwatering hips to her knees. She started to lift her foot up to kick out of the pants, so I gave her a sharp slap on her thigh. “Don’t move a single motherfucking muscle unless I allow it. Do you understand?”
She nodded her head, but that wasn’t good enough. I gave her thigh another hard swat, making her flinch with surprise. “Say it out loud.”
“I understand.”
“What do you say if you need me to stop for any reason?”
Her shoulders shuddered softly as she drew in a deep breath. “Doran.”
“Exactly. Reach for him or say his name and everything stops. Even if Keane doesn’t get to strip off a single finger of his glove. Got it?”
“Yeah.”
I picked her up and tossed her down in a heap on top of Warwick’s legs. She started to reach for him, leaning forward slightly, but caught herself before I could correct her. Breathing hard, she fisted her hands on top of her thighs, waiting for the next order.
“I want to see you suck him dry, babygirl.”
Her eyes flared wide at the endearment, and she jerked her head around to stare at me. I snagged her chin, squeezing hard so my fingers dug into her cheeks, and leaned down to glare into her eyes. “You got a problem with that?”
“N—no. Aidan,” she said hesitantly, as if unsure what she should call me.
I didn’t give a fuck what she called me. As long as she looked at me like that. Eyes wide and dark and dazed. Lips soft and lush. Her cheeks pink. But not as pink as her ass was going to be before I was finished.
