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I texted Cain that I was on my way. He wrote back immediately.

Drive slow. I know how you get when you are ready for daddy.

And then another text came through.

If you get here too fast, there will be consequences.

A shiver went through me. I knew what that meant. It meant he would be extra hard on me that night.

He might have wanted me to drive slow, but his warning had the opposite effect. I put the pedal to the metal and peeled out of the parking lot.

Chapter Fifteen

Cain

“You bad girl,” I murmured appreciatively as my lady walked through the door to the hotel suite, looking gorgeous as always. “You must have been speeding.”

“I was?” She asked innocently. Far too innocently. I laughed. I knew what she was up to.

She wanted me to play rough. I could always tell what my little girl wanted. More than that, I could tell what she needed. And I always aimed to please.

She looked like a certified snack in her pretty cinched waist dress and black patent leather high heels. My girl always dressed to impress. No sweatpants around the house for her. She wore frilly nighties and robes or dresses, and that was about it.

Goddamned if it didn’t make me smile when she twirled around the house, fussing over me, looking like a 1950s housewife.

But that didn’t mean there would not be repercussions for driving fast.

“Come here,” I demanded. She walked right into my arms like the good girl that she was. I kissed her deeply. I was starved for her, as I always was. Even though we’d had some late night playtime the day before, I wanted more. I always wanted more when it came to my wife.

I lifted my head, ignoring the growing bulge in my pants. Hell, I was already at full mast, just from kissing her. Sometimes it didn’t even require that. Just seeing her was enough. Thinking about her. Or rolling over in bed and smelling her hair… the woman gave me an instant hard on without even trying.

My hand came down on her ass, hard.

“I know you were bad on purpose, little girl.”

Her eyes got wide.

“I wasn’t!”

“Don’t lie. Did you go over the speed limit.”

She bit her lip and looked at me, a little bit nervous now.

“Yes.”

“By how much.”

“Five miles per hour. I swear.”

“Hmmm, you know I like it when you stick to the speed limit.”

“I do know,” she said. “But I was excited to see you. And the roads were empty.”

“Hmmm,” I said, undecided. There were punishments she liked, and some she didn’t. I was still on the fence about which to dole out when she slid to her knees, looking up at me submissively. I grinned. A punishment she would enjoy then…

“Take him out,” I said, and she eagerly complied. She knew she would be taking care of me first. That was the way of things between us, most of the time. But I often surprised her by taking care of her first. Usually in the middle of the night. Or in the magical spare hour between when she got home from class and her mother dropped off our progeny.

I did enjoy the feeling of my gorgeous wife coming all over my face. I decided I would spend at least an hour between her thighs, making her come over and over. I wouldn’t let her rest. I wouldn’t fuck her till I was satisfied. That would be her punishment, and my pleasure.

It was going to be a very, very long night.

Chapter Sixteen

Jaken

“Cain’s here,” Mason said as he perched on a bar stool. “Just pulled up.”

“You recognize his ride by the sound of the engine?” I asked.

“Of course. Don’t you?”

“I do. But I thought I was the only one who could.”

“You are,” he conceded. “I can’t tell them all apart, but that man rides a massive hog.”

“Yes, yes, he does.”

My first thought was that Cain looked tired. I had never seen the man look like anything but stone. But he was smiling as he slid onto the bar stool next to Mase.

Thankfully, the place was empty. Mason had arranged the meeting so that it happened before the Jar opened for the day. I was beyond grateful to him for that.

Cain laid a large envelope on the table. I opened it, found a new ID and social security card. There was even a passport that looked as if it had been used. I checked and there were stamps inside. Not too many. But it wasn’t brand new.

“Thank you.”

“You’re clean. Your old identity is wiped from almost all public records.”

“I can’t thank you enough.”

“The file on you is still open at Scotland Yard, but we’re working on that. It’s not currently active. No one has so much as opened it in seven years. Still, I wouldn’t travel to the UK, but you should be good to go anywhere else.”

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