Blake, Abby - Sweet Captivation [A Bride for Eight Brothers 2] (Siren Publishing LoveXtreme Forever) (2 page)

C
hapter Two

Lachlan saw her face lose all color a moment before she stumbled. He already had her in his arms by the time she collapsed. He glanced back quickly, realizing that his brothers had already boarded the spacecraft and were unlikely to have seen their wife swoon. In a way he was grateful. The last thing he needed was six more opinions on what he should do first.

Making the decision quickly, he swung her limp form into his arms and headed straight for the exit. He knew it wasn’t unusual for pregnant women to swoon, especially in the early stages of pregnancy, but he had every intention of getting her out of the crowd and to the doctor’s office quickly.

She woke almost as soon as the cooler air hit her face. She smiled sleepily, looking adorably mussed, before panic filled her eyes and she stiffened in his arms. “The baby?” she whispered fearfully.

“Shhh,” he said quietly, “you just fainted. But to be safe, we’ll stop by your doctor on the way home.”

She still looked a little pale, but already she seemed more comfortable.

Less than an hour later the doctor agreed with Lachlan’s opinion, and so he led his much relieved wife back to the car and drove her home.

* * * *

Mikayla smiled sleepily as Lachlan tucked her into Brock’s bed. She was a little disconcerted by the fact that he wasn’t putting her in his own bed but felt too wiped out to even consider asking why. The house felt so empty, but instead of the crushing loneliness she’d expected she actually felt a measure of relief that Lachlan was the only husband hovering over her. He kissed her forehead tenderly and then straightened and left the room.

He returned with a glass of water for her and then went to leave again.

“Lachlan, is everything okay?”

“Of course,” he answered quickly, maybe a little too quickly.

“Then, will you hold me for a while? Just until I fall asleep.” Mikayla had already figured out his reasoning for putting her in Brock’s bed. Not only was it in the same suite as Lachlan’s but was close enough for him to hear her call if she needed him. The only problem was she needed him always.

He looked a little discomforted by her request, but then he smiled that handsome smile he always used as a type of shield to cover his emotions and then slid onto the bed beside her. He didn’t get under the covers, just lay on top, but when he encouraged her to rest her head on his shoulder, she forgot everything but her need to be held.

Hours later she woke alone for the first time in over a year. She briefly considered crawling into Lachlan’s bed with him, but exhaustion pulled her back into sleep before she could figure out if it was the right thing to do.

* * * *

Three weeks later Mikayla was climbing the walls. Not in a literal sense—no doubt her overprotective husbands would have something to say about that—but rather in a boredom meets frustration meets worry kind of way.

Matt, John, and Peter had contacted her every day. Brock, Ty, and Ryan were off base and wouldn’t be able to contact her for at least another week or so. But the daily contact just wasn’t enough. She’d gone from looking after the needs of seven men to twiddling her thumbs as Lachlan tried to ignore her.

As if she’d conjured him with her thoughts, the man himself wandered into the room. She saw him hesitate before continuing through the door, and he seemed to make a huge effort to look casual as he dropped a brief kiss on her cheek. Her cheek for fuck’s sake? The man had gone from spanking and flogging her ass to pecking her on the cheek like some prudishly formal character in a historical novel.

“Lach?” she asked, deciding to take the bull by the horns. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

He looked surprised, but she refused to take her eyes off him, knowing it would irritate his dominant tendencies. Back on the mining planet she’d always pushed his limits, challenging him to take control. Brock had once explained to her that in BDSM terms it was called topping from the bottom, but Lachlan had seemed comfortable with her sassy attitude and more than happy to have a reason to spank her. Fortunately, she was very fond of Lachlan’s spankings, so it worked out quite nicely.

But their time on Earth had taken a strange turn, and she now realized that not only was he acting differently but she hadn’t really been the sassy sub she’d been before either. “Nothing’s wrong, little one,” he said dismissively as he turned toward the television and used the remote to flick through the channels.

Mikayla could feel her temper starting to rise. More than once, she’d snapped at him in the past few weeks, but he’d merely smiled indulgently and gone to fix or change or collect whatever it was she was throwing a tantrum about. Her own childish behavior was making her even crazier.

“Then why haven’t you touched me since we landed on Earth?”

“I’ve touched you,” he said, sounding amused. “In fact, I touched you a moment ago.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” she said as she climbed out of her chair and stalked toward him. For a moment she caught a glint of worry on his face, but then that annoying, confident smile slipped back into place and his emotions were hidden once more. She stopped in front of his chair, leaned over, and made certain he looked directly into her eyes. “I want my Dom back. I want my ass spanked. I want my husband to fuck me the way he used to.”

“Mikayla,” he growled in the deep voice he used when she was pushing his buttons just a little too enthusiastically. It used to precede a ball gag and sensual flogging, but today she didn’t hold out that hope. Lachlan had been too restrained in the past few weeks for him to give in so easily now.

“Lachlan,” she said, trying to match his tone of voice. “I need you. Please, please, please spank me.”

He laughed quietly and pulled her onto his lap—trouble was she was still sitting upright. Lachlan cradled her against his hard chest for a moment and then went to pick up the television remote again. Mikayla saw red. She couldn’t have been more direct if she’d hit him upside the head. If pleading didn’t work, what the hell would?

Heat burned through her chest as humiliation, hormones, and downright frustration gathered together and melted her control. Damn, she was throwing a tantrum again, and she didn’t even know how to stop it.

She managed to hold the tears at bay for all of five seconds before a sob tore from her throat and the floodgates opened. She tried to climb off his lap, and for one horrifying moment she thought he was going to let her.

But then his arms tightened, holding her trapped, holding her still as he rocked her slightly in his arms. “I’m sorry, little one,” he said quietly as he ran his fingers through her hair and down the length of her spine over and over. “I just don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’ve never hurt me. Why would you think that?”

“Because of your pregnancy. Because I’d never forgive myself if something happened to our baby.” He stopped caressing her spine and ran his hand through his own hair, clearly agitated. “Because I want you more than ever, and I don’t think I can be gentle.”

That last admission went a long way to salving the raw feeling his apparent rejection had created. But it wasn’t enough, not for either of them.

“Make love to me, please, Lachlan. I promise that I won’t let you hurt me.” When he looked unconvinced, she reached up to graze her teeth against the underside of his jaw. “I’m barely seven weeks pregnant. The baby is smaller than my finger nail. Please, Lachlan, you won’t hurt me or our child.”

Feeling his capitulation—and the growing erection nestled under her ass—Mikayla tangled her fingers in his hair and dragged his head down for what she hoped was a control-stealing kiss. He resisted for a moment, but then groaned and thrust his tongue into her mouth. Over and over, he plundered her moist recess, relearning her shape, refueling her hunger. She writhed in his lap as she reached for the buttons on his shirt. Instantly needy, her fingers shook with her intense arousal, and she only managed to fumble a couple open before Lachlan lifted her away from him and arranged her on the sofa on her hands and knees.

He lifted the skirt she wore and dragged her panties to pool at her knees. She moaned as he caressed her ass with his warm hand. “Are you comfortable, sub?” he asked, the voice pure Dom.

“Yes, Lachlan,” she replied quickly. She was so turned on she could feel her juices already gliding down her legs. Her arms quivered with her excitement, and she could barely breathe, but she felt very, very comfortable, and oh, so fucking horny.

She wiggled her ass, trying to get him to spank her, but he chuckled and moved his hand down her thigh. Mikayla sighed quietly and tried to hide just how irritated she felt. She’d forgotten this part. Whenever she’d pushed him just a little too far, Lachlan always responded by slowing down the love play.

He’d once tied her over a spanking chair and then sat beside her caressing her ass for at least twenty minutes while he finished the end of the book he’d been reading. By the time he’d taken his whip out of the cupboard she’d been ready to explode in more ways than one. Arousal shivered through her at the memory, and she felt her pussy squeeze tight and leak more cream down her thigh.

“What are you thinking about, Mikayla? You’re on the verge of orgasm, and I haven’t even smacked this delicious ass once.”

She thought about lying but realized he would probably pick up on that—Lachlan was an expert in body language—so she settled for a half truth. “My last spanking, Sir,” she answered quickly. As much as she enjoyed the bullwhip on her ass, she knew there was no way Lachlan would use it while she was pregnant, and she had no wish to break the mood at this particular moment. She was so close to being spanked she could almost taste it.

The first slap was barely a tap on her cheek but she stifled the sigh and waited for another. The second wasn’t much better but the third made her squeak with surprise. It was much harder than the first two, maybe not as hard as usual, but certainly closer to what she needed.

“Lachlan, please,” she begged, forgetting that he would likely slow the action even more in response. But today, for whatever reason, he gave her what she asked for and smacked her ass and thighs over and over until she was moaning in ecstasy and shaking with the need to come. Only the fact that Lachlan hadn’t given her permission held the climax at bay.

Two fingers pushed into her wet pussy as a rough hand caressed the heated flesh on her ass. “You look so pretty like this,” he said, moving his hands slowly. “Your ass is such a lovely shade of pink, and your pussy is swollen and weeping for my cock.”

She moaned at his words, a sensual haze fogging her brain and narrowing her focus to only this one man. “Please,” she begged as he finger fucked her in slow, lazy motions. “Lachlan, please.”

She wriggled her ass, trying to force him to move faster. But he withdrew instead. She half-growled, but the hard slap on her thigh stopped the noise. God, the things this man could do to excite her. She quivered, her arms shaking, her breath catching, her pussy pulsing. Again he slapped her, and again. “Come for me,” he growled as two fingers squeezed her clit. She screeched as a powerful orgasm ripped through her. The pent up need, the weeks of restraint, the relief of finally being fucked properly burst from her, zinging every nerve ending, pounding every muscle, stealing every breath.

When the maelstrom of sensations finally settled into a quiet hum she finally realized that Lachlan had pulled her onto his lap and caressed the tender flesh on her ass and thighs. She tried to sit up, anxious that he wasn’t fucking her like he would’ve so many weeks ago, but Lachlan held her close and whispered, “Stay still, little one. Let me comfort my sub the way I need to.”