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“Does he?” Eliot murmured. “How does he feel about spankings?”

“That depends on if it’s a fun one or a serious one.”

“Then he’s not going to like what happens next. Over my lap you go.”

Isla’s breath caught in her lungs.

Whoa. She thought she would be nervous. Maybe uncomfortable.

What she hadn’t expected was to be aroused. But there was something about seeing Marcus lying over the bigger man’s lap that was just doing it for her. Especially when she took in his bare bottom.

Eliot shifted him into position before he started rubbing the other man’s bottom. “I’m not going to go easy just because this is our first spanking. You’ve been spanked before, right?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“So, you know what is involved?”

Slap!

She jumped at the noise. And waited for some panic to ensue. But while she was nervous and unsure, she wasn’t scared.

Slap! Slap!

“Oh God! Your hands are like wooden paddles!” Marcus cried.

Was it too much for him? She sat forward.

“That’s not your safeword,” Eliot said.

That’s right. He had a safeword.

Slap! Slap!

By now, Marcus’ butt was a pale pink. And with each smack, it was growing redder. By number ten, he’d started kicking his feet.

“Five more to go. These are going to be hard and fast.”

Before Marcus could reply, Eliot was giving him the last five. The noise filled the room, each smack of his hand was followed by a moan from Marcus.

She pressed her thighs together. Her panties were so damp she was going to have to change them. And she’d only just put them on after her bath.

Shoot.

Then Eliot finished, and he drew Marcus up and around so he was straddling his lap, facing him. He spoke to the younger man in quiet murmurs, running his hand up and down Marcus’ back as the younger man leaned against him. They looked so good together. And for a moment, she couldn’t help but feel left out.

So silly.

Marcus wasn’t going to forget about her.

But he needed Eliot’s comfort right now. Then Eliot glanced up at her and held out his hand.

She shook her head. She didn’t want to interrupt this moment. She stood and moved toward the bedroom. Eliot frowned slightly.

“La-la? I need my La-la,” Marcus said.

“Yes, you do. So do I. Isla? Could you come here?”

Marcus looked at her, his eyes pleading, and there was no way she could deny him.

Not that she really wanted to, anyway. Quickly, she moved toward him. Eliot shifted Marcus so he was sitting on one knee, then he drew her onto the other knee. Now they were both straddling each of his thighs, facing the big man.

Uh-oh, would he be able to feel how wet she was? Surely not. She was wearing pajama bottoms. Still, it was enough to have her growing tense.

“Isla? Are you upset, little one?” Eliot asked softly. “Are you scared of me now?”

“What? No! No, really. I wasn’t upset.”

Marcus turned to study her. Then he gave her a knowing look.

Uh-oh. Was he going to say anything? But instead, he reached out and wrapped an arm lightly around her.

“My La-la.”

She was. She was his. And he was hers. She finally started to relax as Eliot placed his arms around them both, hugging them lightly.

A feeling of safety stole over her.

Of home.

Getting close to Eliot might end up in them both being hurt. But at the same time, she knew that she would be unable to do this with anyone else.

He just felt like hers.

Theirs.

Chapter 17

Eliot was reluctant to let them go.

They just felt so perfect in his arms. But he knew he had to get them into bed. It had been a big day for them both.

“Right, time all Little ones were in bed.”

“It’s too early,” Marcus said. “We won’t sleep. I never go to bed before midnight and La-la has trouble sleeping.”

She did?

“More so since the break-in,” she explained. “I keep seeing him… in my apartment… coming toward me.”

“He won’t touch you again. I swear it,” Marcus told her.

Eliot agreed. No one should be allowed to touch their sweet girl. He wished there was something he could do to help her feel more secure. Maybe he could sleep on the couch… but they probably needed some space.

“Come on. Sounds like that’s even more reason for an early night. And maybe you won’t dream at all. Or if you do, they’ll be lovely dreams. Have you ever tried asking the sleep fairy for a good night’s sleep?”

“Who is the sleep fairy?” Isla asked.

Marcus climbed off his lap, then he helped Isla off. Eliot still didn’t like that she was pale. If she still seemed off tomorrow, he was going to insist she see a doctor. At least the cut on her hand looked better. He’d checked it before her bath.

“She’s like the tooth fairy. You know how the tooth fairy takes your tooth and leaves a gift? Well, with the sleep fairy, you leave them a small gift and they grant you a good night’s sleep.” As he spoke, he drew Marcus’ pajama pants up over his bottom.

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