Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78773 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78773 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
“What is it?” I whisper, conscious of how easily we could be overheard at the door.
“I… I don’t like my belly,” she whispers.
“What?”
Is she crazy?
“I don’t… don’t touch me there,” she says, squeezing her eyes shut as if it pains her to say it.
“What?” I whisper angrily.
“It makes me feel so fat and chubby when you look at my belly. It’s your fault I have no knickers on, nothing to hold in my… jiggles.”
She’s mad. Absolutely mad.
“You’re out of your mind,” I hiss in a whisper. I don’t want to be overheard either. “Your belly’s fucking perfect.”
Her eyes fly open and she looks at me warily. “You’re just saying that.”
I will literally never understand women. My patience is also at a low.
“I am not just saying that, and if you say such a thing again, I’ll take you over my lap for real.”
She blinks, and whispers, “That little session a moment ago was fake?”
“Aye,” I tell her. “A reminder. A warm-up. But you’re damn close to getting a real spanking.”
She squirms a little. I cup her bare arse in my palms and bring her body closer to my mouth. I breathe hot air on her belly, then lap the same place. She shivers and moans a little.
“I love your belly,” I tell her, shaking my head. “It’s fucking gorgeous. All of you’s gorgeous. I can’t get you out of my fucking mind.”
She doesn’t respond. When I look up, she’s biting her lip. Probably takes quite a bit of self-control to keep herself still when I’m doing this. Finally, she nods. “If you say so.”
“I do.”
“There were...others who’ve not...appreciated these...curves,” she finally admits.
“Tell me their names,” I say. “Give me a fucking list. I’ll make them pay.”
She grins, but I’m only half joking. I give her a half smile. “I’m not the others, love. I adore every fucking thing about you.”
She bites her lip and looks away. “I suppose if I say you’re mad, I might earn that real spanking?”
“Absolutely.”
“Well, then,” she whispers. “I won’t say that.” I can tell she thinks it, though, but still, she’s doing really well. Women are such funny creatures, always their own worst critics.
“I’m proud of you,” I tell her. “Behaving like such a good girl.”
She smiles softly at me. “No one’s ever told me I was a good girl before.”
I kiss her bare thigh. “They ought to.”
I bring my mouth back to her belly and suckle the sweet, sensitive skin until she bucks and moans.
“There,” I say, getting to my feet, satisfied I’ve left bright pink marks all over her body. “That ought to remind you to behave today.”
She brings her hand to her arse. “And if those don’t, these will.” I realize she’s thinking of the little welts that crisscross her arse.
I nod and get to my feet. “We do have to go,” I tell her. “But you watch your texts and respond to me today. Aye?”
“Aye,” she says, and when I give her bottom a little squeeze, she amends, “Yes, sir.”
I open the door, half expecting to see a line of McCarthy men outside, but when we exit, the only person anywhere near us is Maeve. She’s got wee Breena by the hand.
“Hello, there,” she says with a smile. She looks from me to Megan, then back again. I think she’d likely not suspect anything was out of the ordinary if Megan didn’t stammer and flush so.
“Aunt Maeve,” she says. “Well, I didn’t know you were there.”
Maeve gives her a knowing smile. “Was just taking her out for a walk in the garden,” she says. “Can I give her a sucker, Carson?”
“Aye.”
“I just saw Keenan and Cormac heading outside. They said something about the guard?” she asks.
“We’ll find out what’s going on,” I tell her.
“Well, I’m off to work,” Megan says.
“Right, then,” I mutter. “I’ll join Keenan and Cormac outside.”
“Don’t you worry at all about Breena,” Maeve says. “She’ll stay with me for the day. And tomorrow, we’ve got a potential new nanny for you. We need to interview them first, though.”
“Aye.”
I want to give her a goodbye kiss, a squeeze of the hand, anything at all to let her know she’s on my mind. But she turns and leaves before I can do anything. Maeve stands looking at me for a moment, but when I turn to her, she only smiles.
“Careful, son,” she says quietly.
“Careful about what?” I say, but it’s foolish pretending around Maeve. She’s raised three sons, and those aren’t counting the ones she’s raised as if they were her own as well. She’s the mother of all of us in the Clan.
“You could lose yourself to a girl like Megan,” Maeve says. “And you’d have to beat off half the Clan.”
“Aye,” I say. “Don’t I know it.”
She smiles to herself and tucks a stray hair from in front of Breena’s eyes behind her ears. “How are you, son?”