Page 74 of His Own Heaven

Charlie’s smile was broad. “She really is, isn’t she? I’m happy for you, little brother. If anyone deserves a good woman, it’s you.”

A good woman.

That’s exactly what Lucy was. And Toby wasn’t letting her go.

Which was exactly what he’d explained to her in no uncertain terms when he’d removed his belt and painted three fresh stripes across her spectacular arse. He’d considered fucking her too, but stopped short of the act. Not because he was running low on time, and certainly not because he didn’t want to—he couldn’t get enough of her gorgeous body—but because he wanted her to focus on the pain, the reminder that she was his and all that entailed.

He did slip two fingers deep inside her pussy though. Just to tease her.

A little pleasure to help define the pain.

When he’d left her, she’d been a weak-kneed mess, frustrated and needy and glaring daggers at him as he’d walked out the door. Toby smiled to himself, knowing he’d make it up to her later. It had also taken the whole of the drive from her place to his for his erection to go down, so it wasn’t as if she was the only one suffering.

Suffering….

That reminded him of the other reason he felt no guilt for making his brother wait. It was a just punishment for upsetting Lucy with that stupid text message about Isobel. And while she seemed relieved by the news the message was about his mother, he didn’t like the swiftness with which she had assumed otherwise.

Admittedly, he probably should have been more up front instead of trying to dismiss her query, but after the emotional upheaval he’d nursed her through the night before, the last thing he wanted to do was turn the tables on her and unpack his own baggage at her feet. He would though. Eventually. Just not at five o’clock in the morning.

“While we’re on the subject of women, why the fuck did you text me about Isobel? I told you the other day, I don’t want to hear another word about that conniving bitch.”

“I know,” Charlie said, avoiding eye contact. “Hence the text message instead of voicemail. No hearing required.”

Toby shot a quick scowl at his twin. “Semantics.”

“Bless you!”

“Fuck you.”

Charlie turned in his seat and stared at Toby for a long silent minute. “You know we have to deal with her, Toby. She’s not going to go away and the longer we ignore her the—”

His brother’s sudden silence was troubling. “What?” Toby demanded.

“What if she tries to grab our attention the same way she did with Dad?”

Toby’s vision narrowed and his grip tightened on the steering wheel to the point of pain. “If she hurts a single hair on their heads, I’ll kill her myself.”

“If she goes after my daughters,” his brother snarled, “you’ll have to get in line.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Lucy couldn’t get comfortable. Every time she moved in her chair, heat flared across her backside and she had to bite her lip to stifle her moans.

The belting Toby had given her before dinner the night before had been very carefully and evenly spaced out across her arse. No two swats in the same place twice.

The burn in her flesh had been delicious and sexy and teasing. But the lashes he’d administered before leaving to pick up his brother had all landed in the exact same spot—right where her thighs met her arse. There was nothing teasing about it.

Toby’s strikes had been deliberate and precise and her skin felt hot and tight. There was no possible way she could move without feeling the burn of his belt.

And while she understood that was his intent—to make it impossible to ignore and therefore reinforce his stance that she was special to him—it didn’t make her life any easier when it took every scrap of her determination and self-control to focus on her job, and not the near constant throbbing of her clit or the wetness of her panties.

So unprofessional,she thought as she continued scouring the financial records.But so freaking hot!

Toby had left her in a state of total wanting with no hint of relief on the horizon.

“He is so gunna pay for this,” she vowed as she worked through her to-do list. “I don’t know how and I don’t know when, but he issooogoing to pay.”

“Who’s going to pay for what?”

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