Theirs to Cherish

Chapter Thirteen





CALLIE’S heart dropped in a sickening fall. Guilt flayed her again. Damn it, she hadn’t meant to hurt Thorpe’s feelings.

“I need to . . .” What? Apologize to Sean for also being in love with Thorpe? Say she was sorry for moving beyond carrying an unrequited torch for her protector? Sean didn’t want to hear her pour out her feelings for Thorpe any more than her former boss wanted to hear her wax poetic about the fed she’d once called her Dom. Could this get any more complicated? “I didn’t mean to make him uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t. Thorpe is just beating himself up. He wants to tell you that he loves you, too. But he’s afraid.”

Those words stunned her. Presumably, Sean had spoken in English, but it might as well have been Greek. How would he know anything about Thorpe’s feelings? Why would he care? And how did he have it so wrong?

“No.” Callie stepped back, shaking her head. “Thorpe doesn’t love me like that.”

“He does, exactly as I do. Like a man loves a woman. He’s got a hang-up or two, I gather, but he loves you. Just like you love him.”

With a little gasp, she blinked up at him, struggling to find words beyond her shock. He’d figured that out and he wasn’t furious? “Oh, Sean. I’m so sorry if I’ve hurt you. I don’t know what to say. I—”

“You can’t apologize for your heart.” He kissed her forehead. “I’ve known that you love us both for a while. So has he. Would I enjoy having you to myself? Of course. But I’ve asked myself long and hard what you need. Thorpe gives you something I can’t.”

She clung to him, grabbing his arms. “But you give me things he doesn’t. I don’t want to lose—”

“I know, lovely. You won’t. What sort of man would I be if I put my own anxiety and jealousy above your fulfillment?”

Callie stared up at him in wonder, blinking through a sheen of tears. “You amaze me.”

He gave her a sad smile. “The world hasn’t shown you a lot of kindness, so you don’t expect it in others. You’ve had so much taken from you. If I have to bend my pride to be the one to finally make you whole, I’ll be fine.”

A sudden thump sounded just outside their insulated little galley, and they both turned to see Thorpe shaking his hand . . . like he’d just punched the wall and hurt his knuckles.

Her heart ached for him, but he’d walled himself off from her. He’d always been an island, never quite letting others close. She couldn’t help him if he wouldn’t let her behind his defenses.

“I think he’s been worried that you’ll leave him, Callie. You wouldn’t be the first woman to do it. And he seems to believe that he’s a bit too old and rough around the edges for you. He just needs a little reassurance. You’ll have to give it to him.”

Callie blinked up at Sean, who smiled softly. Was he for real?

“You won’t feel betrayed?”

“What good would it do me?” He shrugged. “Having two of us to protect you makes sense. If I force you to choose between us, not only could I lose you altogether, but I think you’d only be halfway happy. I never thought it possible for someone to love two people at once, but when I see you with us, I know you sincerely do. Not sure yet how everything will work in the ‘real’ world, but let’s get you past this danger and we’ll see.”

Her heart nearly burst open. Callie hadn’t thought she could love Sean even more. But she’d been wrong. She tightened her arms around him. “How do you understand me so well?”

He chuckled and cupped her cheek. “I’ve been studying you for a year now. You’ve been my life. And maybe my obsession a wee bit. From the start, I wanted to be jealous of your connection with Thorpe, and maybe I should be. But I’ve seen how, when he and I work together, we balance one another to make your world right. I think that will make us both happier in turn.”

Callie teared up again. “I don’t know how to thank you for being so wonderful and—”

“You can start with a shower.” Sean grimaced. “Get that God-awful inch of makeup off your face. Have Thorpe help you. Tell him to be sure you get nice and clean. Then . . . we’ll see what happens. Just don’t take no for an answer.” With a wink, he turned her, smacked her ass, and sent her in the other man’s direction. “Go.”

***

THORPE couldn’t stop the jealousy rolling through him like an ugly black cloud. It wasn’t because she loved Sean. He’d known that. And he could actually admit that the fed was not only a decent guy, but good for her.

What made him resentful as hell was that he couldn’t be that open with her about his feelings. Not once in three years of marriage had he been able to tell Melissa that he loved her. It wasn’t like he didn’t know why.

He sighed. A tenderhearted girl like Callie would need that reassurance. He didn’t have it in him. Sean had given him the green light to f*ck her, so Thorpe would damn well take advantage of that golden opportunity whenever possible. But it couldn’t lead anywhere.

All too soon, he’d be forty, and she’d barely be through her mid-twenties. Sean suited her better from an age perspective. Callie looked happy with the other man. Because she meant everything to him, Thorpe refused to burden her with his bottled-up heart. When they untangled her from the mess that had ripped her world apart for years, he would quietly support Sean and fade into the background.

But he’d never stop loving her.

When Callie approached him on deck, the wind whipping her dark hair around her shoulders, he closed his eyes. Looking at her and knowing that he’d already lost her was killing him.

“Mitchell?” She touched a hand to his arm.

No one ever called him that . . . except her, except when her mood was soft. The sound of his name on her lips was like a siren song. Her sweet caress clutched his heart and sent desire sizzling up his arm, streaking under his skin.

“What?” he barked more than he meant to.

Callie opened her mouth, then snapped it shut. “Thank you for helping me. I wish for your sake that you hadn’t, but it means the world that you’d risk so much for me. Now I’ll make you happy and leave you alone.”

Like hell. He grabbed her wrist before she could get away. “Where are you going?”

“Well, since Bora Bora is out of the question right now, Sean wants me to take a shower. He had some strange notion that you needed to supervise me and make sure I got squeaky clean, but I’ve been bathing myself for a long time. You don’t have to bother. I’ll manage.”

Callie tugged free and turned away. She hadn’t spared any words of love or affection for him. No surprise. He hadn’t done anything to engender them. Still, as Callie eased through the door and into the galley again, it f*cking hurt to watch her walk away. He should protect her and strictly limit their interaction to punishment and sex. It wouldn’t be easy, but better for her. Less terrible when she paired off with Sean for good and shattered his heart.

But right now, her attitude needed to come down about ten notches. Sean had kept him around for a reason. Might as well start earning his privileges.

Inside the galley, Callie and Sean exchanged a few words. She gesticulated in agitation. The fed raised a brow, then stared at him out the window. A moment later, the girl rolled her eyes and stomped down the narrow passage toward the bedroom.

Insolent little brat. Thorpe stooped through the door and marched after her.

“I’ve got her,” he assured Sean. “She’ll f*cking shine by the time she steps out of the shower.”

“Good. We still owe her a lot of punishment, along with a thorough interrogation . . . which will probably lead to more punishment. I don’t want any trace of Glitter Girls on her or it will just piss me off more.”


Since he could still picture her onstage, wearing next to nothing and wiggling her ass in the face of a guy who looked like the poster boy for pimpdom, Thorpe couldn’t disagree. “Same here.”

“Good. While you take care of that, I’ll finish cooking. Then . . . it’s on.”

Absof*ckinglutely.

Thorpe strode down the hall, into the first bedroom and its adjoining bath. He found Callie staring in the mirror in the tiny bathroom, peeling off false eyelashes.

“You didn’t wait for me to bring you to the shower.”

She turned to him and raised her chin. “I know where it is. And your ‘f*ck off’ demeanor didn’t exactly invite company.”

“You’ve got thirty seconds alone to empty your bladder before your shower. After that, I’m coming in.”

Callie rolled her eyes. “Why? I won’t run again. Where would I go?”

Maybe not, but after her Houdini-like escape from Dominion, followed by his nearly three sleepless days of frantic searching for her, Thorpe wasn’t inclined to let her out of his sight. Besides, Sean had given him this duty, and he wasn’t giving up the chance to look at her naked. “Good to hear. I’m not budging.”

“I can shower alone.”

“But you’re not going to.” He glanced at his watch. “Go. Clock’s ticking.”

“Ugh . . .” She sighed and closed the door in his face. Near the thirty-second mark, he heard the toilet flush and she yanked the little door open. “Happy?”

“Do I seem thrilled, pet? In the past few days, I’ve had almost no sleep or food, and I’m running thin on patience, too. Don’t test me.”

And his bad mood was exacerbated by how ratcheted up he felt. He’d gone to sleep thinking about the moment he could finally slide his bare skin over hers before plunging his cock into her tempting pink p-ssy and at least pretend that she belonged to him. He’d awakened thinking exactly the same thing. Unless he wanted to torture the f*ck out of himself, he’d better quit that line of thinking.

Dismissing that from his mind only left him with the nagging worry about the danger lurking around every unseen corner. It all gnawed at his composure.

“Sorry,” she murmured, casting her gaze to her toes. “Sir.”

“Shower,” he barked.

Callie hesitated. “One question.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. The last damn thing he wanted was a dialogue. Dangerous ground. But he must have a secret masochistic streak. In his book, some contact with Callie was better than none.

“What?”

“Sean has made it very clear why he’s gone out on a limb to help me. But you’ve done so much for me for years. You’ve said that you want me, but . . .”

“Fishing to find out how I feel? After running away from me without a word?” After she’d told Sean that she loved him while he had to listen? “We’ve always been friends—”

“You said last night that we were more.”

A tactical error on his part. His blood had been rushing at the thought of having her in his grasp again, sprawled across his lap for his discipline. Why hadn’t he kept his damn mouth shut?

“Leave it alone, Callie. Shower before Sean finishes your breakfast and it gets cold.”

“I love you,” she choked, her stare all but imploring. “That’s hard for me to say.”

His heart stopped. Joy, hope, love all flooded in—until reality crashed back. He would never be the tender lover she needed and deserved. And Callie was young. She might think that she loved him now, but in a dozen years? He’d be able to join AARP, and she’d still be able to bear children. They would never work. And that was just one of their problems. Someday, she’d realize he wasn’t a good fit for her and leave. If he didn’t stunt things between them now, it would hurt far worse later.

“You’ve had plenty of practice with Sean,” he shot back.

Her chin trembled as she raised it and crossed her arms over her chest. “Why do you always make me feel like some urchin tugging after you for your affection?”

“You have a Dom, Callie. What I feel doesn’t matter.”

“Isn’t that convenient for you? That way, you don’t have to admit that I mean something to you beyond a friend. But you wouldn’t go this far out on a limb for me unless I meant more, despite what you’ve claimed in the past. Every time you’ve kissed me, it wasn’t like a platonic pal. And that certainly wasn’t how it felt when you spanked me or put your tongue on my—”

“What do you want from me?” he growled.

“The truth.”

He pressed his lips in a grim line as he struggled to restrain the urge to grab her and snarl out his love while he filled her cunt full of every hard inch he ached to give her. “This is not open for discussion. Shower. Now.”

“You always avoid me. Oh, discipline me, of course, but don’t talk about your feelings. They’re scary,” she mocked.

“Callie,” he growled, hating how right she was.

She shrugged him off. Sean’s shirt, swimming on her petite form and hanging to her knees, slipped off one shoulder. The long sleeves nearly swallowed her hands. Though she’d rolled back the cuffs, the garment was still huge. But as she eased the buttons from their moorings, Callie peeled the cotton open bit by bit, exposing fair, rosy skin. Finally, she shook it off. The white fabric cascaded down her arms and fell to the floor. She stood before him in a nearly transparent bra and a tiny thong.

Thorpe swallowed. Jesus, Callie killed his self-control. She tested him, pushed him. Did her best to lure him in. Didn’t the girl see that Sean would give her all the tenderness she needed, all the gentle affection he couldn’t?

Her little pink tongue peeked out, wetting her lower lip. His cock jerked. With a challenging stare from beneath her dark lashes, still coated with way too much mascara, she turned to start the shower. Soon, steam filled the little bathroom.

With her back to him, Callie reached behind her to unclasp her lacy, ridiculously sexy bra. It dropped to the floor, and she wriggled out of the thong with an extra sway to her hips. Thorpe’s stare caressed the dark hair that fell in a sleek veil over her fair shoulders, then ended to reveal the exaggerated nip of her waist and flared to the lush curve of her hip. He began to sweat. Her smooth, firm ass—still with a hint of pink from his hand last night—made his cock unbearably hard. He sucked in a harsh breath.

Callie turned her head, lashes fluttering up. She sent him a hurt stare. So sexy. So tempting him. So f*cking wrong because unless Sean was beside him, taking Callie with him, he couldn’t touch her.

“Go on. There’s only so much water on this boat. I want some, too.” And he thanked f*ck that the stall was barely big enough for one. If it had been roomier and she invited him in . . . Yeah, that would only end with his cock buried in some orifice that he had no right to even be contemplating without Sean’s presence.

Callie stepped in behind the clear Plexiglas and groaned as the hot water cascaded over her soft skin. He watched as she tipped her head back, sluiced water down her throat, her breasts, over her flat abdomen, her thighs. Damn, he needed a distraction.

“Soap?” she murmured.

Right. The toiletries Sean had bought earlier. He’d set the bag somewhere . . . In the bedroom, on the floor, he found the plastic sack and carted it into her. He fished out a scented bar, along with a citrus-scented shampoo and conditioner. Sean had even bought a couple of packs of disposable razors and a few cans of shaving cream.

He started handing items to Callie. She opened the door and took them in silence, then bathed without a word, quickly scrubbing all the makeup from her face and the Glitter Girls grime from her body. She washed her hair, shaved, then basked in the hot water for a minute more. And Thorpe couldn’t take his eyes off her. Something about the girl—no, everything about her—was sexy as hell, and fantasies of spreading her across his bed, restraining her, then indulging in every last pleasure he could think of fried his brain.

The flavor of her slick folds still lingered in his memory, haunting him. Thorpe had discovered in Vegas that when he wanted to make himself unbearably hard and so horny that jacking off eased none of his restless edge, he thought of that. And he thought of how she’d looked as she came for him.

Suddenly, she groaned, and he yanked his thoughts from his daydream. Thorpe peered closer, visually penetrating the steam to find that she had her hand between her legs, slowly rubbing her *. Even through the fogged-up shower door, he could see her skin flushing, her nipples peaking. Her breasts rose, then her shoulders fell. She leaned against the white fiberglass of the stall and spread her legs wider with another little moan.

He nearly f*cking lost it.

“Callie, you don’t have permission for that.”

Her sultry eyes fluttered open again, not quite focused. “Why do you care?”

Goddamn it, she was goading him. He couldn’t f*ck or discipline Callie when he was alone with her. Yes, he had once been willing to cross Sean when he’d thought the fed was a dangerous player. Now? He scrubbed a hand down his face, sweating. But he couldn’t stab Sean in the back. They had an agreement, and he’d live up to his part.


“Neither of us said you could self-pleasure.”

“Sean didn’t tell me I couldn’t. And according to you, we’re back to being just friends. I don’t ask my pals for permission to masturbate.” She sent him a sly smile. “Oh, I also don’t shower in front of my buddies, but here you are.”

F*cking son of a bitch. She was right—not about masturbating. That was something every sub understood was a no-no without their Dom’s permission. But he couldn’t claim to be just her friend, then oversee her shower with sick, voyeuristic glee. Or make love to her later, even with Sean, and claim that it didn’t mean a thing.

Her soft moans lengthened, deepened. Thorpe couldn’t take his eyes off her as she dragged her fingers over her * in slow, sensual circles. Water poured down her skin. Her breathing roughened. Her nipples beaded even harder. Hell, he was going to lose his ever-loving mind. If he had the right, he’d give Callie the paddling of her life. Then the f*cking to match.

Since he couldn’t, Thorpe absolutely refused to endure this torment a minute more.

He yanked open the clear, rigid door between them, grabbed her wrist, and hauled her out. Her drenched form brushed his chest, instantly soaking his clothes and skin. As he dragged her near, he couldn’t miss her dilated blue eyes flaring. Or her rosy cheeks. Her lips were so f*cking tempting, parted and red and too damn close to his own.

Swallowing down his lust, he grabbed her shoulders and shoved her against the wall. “You’re done teasing me like this.”

“What? I’m just relieving tension. It’s been a crappy couple of days.” She arched her hips toward his aching cock. “Don’t mind me, friend.”

Her swollen, saturated cunt brushed against his dick. A half-groan, half-growl tore from his throat.

When the hell had he ever wanted a woman even half this much?

Thorpe knew the answer. It wasn’t comforting.

“You’ve been incredibly naughty. Topping from the bottom. Self-pleasuring without permission. Lying to me.”

“Like you lied to me about merely being friends?” she challenged, brow raised. “What are you going to do about it?”

Damn it, Callie was asking for it. Begging. He slammed the bathroom door, enclosing them together in the tiny space. The move was risky, but the only way he could open the cabinet doors. Finally, he reached inside and fished out a bath towel, then wrapped it around her, covering some of her delectable nakedness. Not enough, obviously, because he still wanted to f*ck her into next week, but this was the best he could do now.

Focusing on her freshly scrubbed face, he knotted the white terry cloth just above her breasts, then yanked on it. “Let’s go.”

She dug in her heels. “What are you doing?”

“Making sure you get discipline.”

Thorpe lifted her and dragged her against his chest. Because Callie was Callie, she resisted him with everything she had, fighting like a hellcat. Against him, she smelled clean and womanly, and as he passed by the bed, he gnashed his teeth to keep from throwing her on the softly rumpled sheets and taking her in every way he knew how.

Instead, he dragged her toward the galley, fighting off her claws and kicks to the shin.

He squeezed her tight against his body. “You have a Dom who loves you and you’re taunting me to take something I shouldn’t.”

“It’s not like that. Stop manhandling me.” She gritted her teeth and squirmed for freedom, succeeding mostly in mashing her breasts to his chest.

Thorpe dug his fingers into her hair and tugged, stilling her. She was going to get the spanking she deserved. Maybe, if the gods looked down on him, Sean would let him dish it out. And if he was more sexually frustrated than indignant on the other man’s behalf, well . . . Callie didn’t need to know that.

Once they reached the galley, Thorpe tossed her into the room, trapping her between his body and the small faux wood table attached to the wall. In front of the utilitarian stove, Sean looked up with a spatula in his hand, now wearing trousers, and staring at them with a questioning expression.

“Callie needs discipline,” Thorpe spit out.

“Does she?”

He shoved down his frustration that he had to explain himself. Couldn’t they just get to the part where Sean tugged the towel off of Callie’s naked body and smacked her lush, damp ass with his hand so he could see her breasts sway and her face flush, watch the shock of the sting become unbearable arousal and . . .

Thorpe swallowed hard. “She tried to give herself an orgasm in the shower.”

Sean slanted his gaze to Callie, then back again. “Oh?”

“Yes, knowing full well that I watched her.” He closed in on her, trying not to notice how soft her damp body was or how well she fit against him.

He hoped to hell that he and Sean would f*ck Callie soon. Maybe once would be enough to satisfy this clawing hunger bleeding his self-control dry. Maybe . . . but highly doubtful.

To his surprise, Sean merely looked down at whatever was in the pan in front of him and began working with his spatula.

“Don’t you get it?” Thorpe questioned indignantly. “Subs are not supposed to touch themselves without explicit permission.”

“I’m aware,” Sean said calmly, flipping over some egg concoction, not seeming at all ruffled.

“Callie was topping from the bottom, doing her damn best to entice me when she was supposed to be getting clean.”

“Hmm . . .” Sean mused, salting the omelet.

How could the fed not be pissed off at that? He’d never struck Thorpe as stupid, but suddenly he was rethinking Sean’s IQ.

Thorpe tossed his hands in the air. “She kept stroking herself even after I told her to stop. She completely disregarded me.”

Sean smiled faintly. “Minx.”

“And? We’ve got to be firm with her. She needs it or she’ll run all over us.” Thorpe felt ready to burst a blood vessel.

Sean reached for the pepper and shook some on top of the eggs. Thorpe had to restrain the urge to throw the pan against the f*cking wall. How could Sean be so damn calm? If he wasn’t going to act, this co-topping crap was never going to work.

“Lovely?” Sean turned her way.

“Yes?” She sounded oddly quiet. In fact, it struck Thorpe as unusual that she hadn’t said a word since he’d dragged her into the galley.

“According to Thorpe, you need discipline quite badly.”

She bit into her plump lower lip, and Thorpe had to look away. Water dripped from her hair, down her pale, graceful shoulders, disappearing into the cleavage visible above her towel, now slowly unknotting and inching down her breasts.

“Yes, Sir,” she murmured.

Sean turned to look at him. “I can’t leave these eggs or they’ll burn. Thorpe, we’ve had this discussion. You’re more than equipped to give her whatever she needs while I finish up here. Then we’ll eat.”

Sean turned away, staring back into the pan. Callie blinked, then turned to look at him.

A thousand volts of electricity shot straight to Thorpe’s cock. He clenched his fists. “You want me to spank her again?”

“Whatever you think is proper punishment for her behavior. Once you’re done, I think you should give her that orgasm she sought. She probably needs the release, and I always like to see Callie in pleasure.”

Thorpe nearly choked on a thick lump of lust. Hadn’t the son of a bitch seen his erection through his trousers? He must have; it felt the size of Texas. Damn it, if he ripped that towel off Callie and put his hands anywhere on her, much less made her come, Thorpe wasn’t sure he could stop.

Where the hell was his self-control? His stare roved all over Callie, her damp skin, her dark tresses clinging, breasts half visible, and those blue eyes of hers wide and crushing his ability to think of anything except having her naked under him, clawing at his back, and begging for more.

“I can definitely do that, but let me be plain,” Thorpe said between gritted teeth, feeling way north of insane. “I want to f*ck her.”

He didn’t dare meet Callie’s stare or he wouldn’t be responsible for what happened next.

“You made that clear last night.” Sean reached to open the microwave and insert a paper plate filled with bacon. “If you punish her now, we’ll deal with the rest later.”

Then Sean winked at the girl.

What the hell kind of Twilight Zone shit had this morning become? Whatever. It didn’t matter. Sean had agreed that her behavior needed correcting, so he’d f*cking take care of it.

Thorpe sent Callie a hard grin that she would find impossible to interpret as comforting. “Fine. I’m all over this.”

“Glad to hear it. Breakfast should be ready in five.” Sean set a few pieces of bread into the toaster.

But Thorpe wasn’t listening anymore. He had a few precious minutes to put his hands all over Callie. He didn’t intend to waste even a second.

“Drop the towel. Every hesitation, bratty remark, or lapse in your manners is only going to make my discipline more unpleasant. Are we clear?”

“Yes, Sir.” Her eyes went soft and wide as her fingers loosened the towel.

The terry cloth unraveled from her body, slithering to the ground. And there Callie stood before him, her petite form shaking and blessedly bare. Need seized his insides. She belonged under his hands, his body, his command. He’d fought it for years. But as her gaze clung to him now, silently pleading for both his hard boundaries and his mercy, he couldn’t deny how badly he wanted the right to touch the girl.


“On your knees, pet.” He’d dreamed of saying those words to her forever.

Slowly, gracefully, she knelt before him, her stare unwavering. Without a word, she pleaded. Her desire and anticipation were a punch to his gut.

Thorpe never took his eyes off her as he yanked a small chair from the little table and sat in it, leaning forward with elbows on his knees to drill her with a hard stare. He steadied himself with a deep breath, finding his balance and center. Knowing he had so few boundaries right now with Callie was immersing him in the most heady Dom space. One wicked idea after another raced through his head.

“Good. What I say will be absolute, Callie. No arguments. No questions. No comebacks. This isn’t a demo, and I’m no longer playing. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.” Her voice sounded so breathy and acquiescent. Need seared itself on her face. This passionate Callie was the one he knew—and loved. The one he burned for.

He sat back in his chair and patted his thigh. “Sit on my lap.”

She rose. It wasn’t quick. Nor was it so slow that he could call it a hesitation, but close. Her lips parted and questions nearly tumbled forth. Callie stifled them. Instead of asking whatever she wanted to know, she merely perched her pretty bare ass on his thigh gingerly, then looked to him for reassurance.

“Yes, like that.” He swallowed back the command to kiss him, to tug down his zipper, to stroke his straining erection before she eased him into the blistering silk of her p-ssy. But all of that would be what he wanted—not what he’d been granted. Not what she needed. “Now turn to face Sean and put your legs on either side of my knees.”

Callie responded more quickly this time, rotating on his lap, then settling her back against his chest. Thorpe hissed in her ear as she rested her bare skin against his thin, damp shirt. He gripped her hips, barely restraining the urge to shove his cock against the ripe curves of her ass.

He widened the stance of his thighs, parting her legs at the same time. Sean looked up from the eggs, watching raptly. His face told Thorpe that he didn’t really give a shit if the eggs burned.

Settling his lips against her ear, he whispered, “Tilt your head back on my shoulder.”

Callie shivered, but she obeyed without pause. Her shaky little exhalation left him no doubt that his domination aroused her. Unable to resist anymore, he ground his dick into her pert backside, then caressed his way up her waist, her ribs, until he palmed her breasts and trapped her nipples between his thumb and forefinger, turning and tugging.

“You touched yourself to torment me. Didn’t you, Callie?”

“Yes, Sir.” Her breathy reply made his gut and his need tighten.

“Why, to taunt me with what I shouldn’t take or to seduce me?”

He felt her draw in a deep breath, then undulate on his lap, sending hot sensation skittering through him again. He tightened his grip on her nipples, and she gasped.

“Lovely?” Sean prodded.

“Both,” she admitted with a little cry. “I hated the thought that you wouldn’t show me whether you want me or not.”

“So you tried to corner me. Very naughty.” One hand left the soft curve of her breast.

“But—”

“Not a word.” His voice reverberated through the little room. “Running away, stripping in public, staying in hellholes, fighting me, frustrating me . . . You’ve done nothing to earn an orgasm.”

“Good point,” Sean conceded. “Scratch that off the list.”

She moaned in protest.

“You’ve earned this, pet.” Thorpe spanked the pad of her p-ssy with his fingers in a stinging blow that awakened and inflamed.

Callie gasped, arched, thrusting one breast deeper into his grasp. He gritted his teeth. She responded to him even more beautifully than he remembered, way beyond his wildest dreams. Despite her craving for tenderness, she seemed completely capable of taking the edgy side of his nature—and still asking for more. At the thought, what little blood remained in his body rushed to his cock until he felt staggered and dizzy.

Again, he lightly smacked her p-ssy enough to sting sweetly. And again. Each time, her folds plumped and slickened a bit more. He couldn’t miss the way her * swelled and hardened. So he kept on.

“Please, Thorpe . . .” she panted.

“That’s Sir to you right now. And I promise, you’re going to beg, little girl. For my mercy and for the pleasure I can grant you . . . if I choose. Eventually.”

She shuddered, and Thorpe tried to hold it together, fighting the urge to bend her over the little table and work his way into her tight cunt until she’d taken every throbbing inch he had.

“Yes, Sir,” she moaned.

“Better.” He settled his palm over her swollen folds, gratified to feel her slickness coating the slide of his fingers onto her *. Gently, he circled her sensitive nub. It hardened to stone. Then he slowed his caress, plying with a swirling, stroking, downright leisurely brush of his fingers. Her breathing grew more labored.

“You’ve played with me for the last time, pet. First, you left me without so much as saying good-bye, despite the years I spent sheltering you. Then I found you stripping, of all things, in a place not even clean enough to house rats. I chased you down a f*cking alley and told you never to run from me again. What did you do the minute you woke up this morning?” When she hesitated, he barked, “Answer me, Callie.”

“I ran, Sir.”

“Yes. You’re in a shitload of trouble, little girl.”

Callie grabbed his thigh, whimpering as he curled a pair of fingers into the snug depths of her cunt. “I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t give you permission to speak. I’m not done listing all the reasons I’m displeased with your behavior so you’ll understand exactly why I’m going to make this punishment difficult. Don’t interrupt me again.”

She writhed and trembled in his arms. “I won’t, Sir.”

“Then you teased me while you showered, driving me to the brink of sanity. If you’d had any idea just how exasperated I’ve been—worried out of my mind and chasing you all over the damn place, wanting you so f*cking much and knowing you were just out of my grasp . . . I’ve reached my limit, Callie. No more.”

He plunged his fingers deep inside her, rooting around until he found the bit of smooth, sensitive tissue high on the front wall of her passage. He rubbed in mercilessly unhurried circles.

Toast popped up. Sean plated food. Thorpe gritted his teeth. He wasn’t ready to let Callie go. She hadn’t been punished enough for all her transgressions . . . and he couldn’t bring himself to stop touching her.

“Breakfast,” Sean said as he set her plate on the table.

“Did you happen to buy clothes pins or chip clips when you went shopping?” Thorpe snapped.

“No, but I found some while prowling around in the drawers here,” Sean said.

“Perfect. I need two.”

Sean turned and rummaged in a drawer as Thorpe shoved Callie’s hair from her neck. As he continued to drag his fingers ruthlessly over her most sensitive spots, he swept his lips up her neck, then nipped at her lobe. On his lap, she gyrated restlessly. Moisture gushed all over his fingers. Her breathing ramped up. She had to be getting close. Now it would get fun . . .

After a slam of the drawer, Sean turned back. His stare fell on them, his blue eyes turning dark with arousal. “She looks beautiful.”

“She feels like the most exquisite hell,” Thorpe groaned.

“Callie always does.” With a little smile, Sean held up the clothes pins. “Where do you want these?”