I spank for naughty… Freeing Molly

Time for the cover reveal for book 2 of Cián and Molly’s story.

Freeing Molly

Molly has lost her way and Cián must restore their balance.

Things aren’t right with Molly, even after a tragedy hits the couple and it is dealt with on the surface, it dominates her days and nights. She deals with it in an unfortunate way but Cián takes over and things begin to level out again. But while Cián seems to be alright with the progression of things, Molly isn’t. She is still sad, doesn’t know where to put her feelings or how to cope with them.

And then, there’s the guilt. Guilt that Cián has been through every miserable step with her and she shut him out. Cián has forgiven her, its easy for a man who lives a domestic discipline lifestyle but not easy for his newly inducted fiancé. No, finding absolution is difficult and the road is a painful one for Molly.

Growth is all about the process. That is what Cián is telling himself. That process includes, patience, love, careful timing, open heart, open mind, and more patience. And allowing others into their lives enough to help Molly smile again. What it isn’t is accepting of the way things are and Cián isn’t anything if he isn’t a true O’Connor son.

Once Cián finds his Molly, he will do whatever it takes to get her through her confused pain except let her work it out alone. He calls in his relatives, and while there are some bumpy spots, and he doesn’t always make the best choices, he has an end game and nothing is going to get in the way of winning. He has his unwavering eye on the prize and he will use whatever means necessary to gain that prize, Molly, whole again.

Here is a little taste of what lies ahead.

PG-13

Molly was stubborn and right now she was also angry that she wasn’t getting her way although her body visibly relaxed when he said he wasn’t letting her go. It was a dangerous combination. Cián didn’t want to push too hard too fast, but she was begging for a spanking by her actions. He was going to try again. Taking a deep breath, Cián looked straight into Molly’s petulant face.

“Molly, you are not living in this… h…”

“Just say it! Hell hole. Well I don’t care what you, or my brothers say. People leave me alone here.” She looked at Cián pointedly. “Until today, that is.”

“Right.”

Cián looked around the one room decorated in modern slum and decided that other than her bag, there was nothing she needed from the space. He was trying hard not to give her what she was asking for even though every instinct inside told him to grab the hairbrush on the box she used for a dresser.

He might have been the youngest O’Connor child, but he knew exactly how to take care of his girl. She was dealing with so much that his lover side was saying ‘protect don’t spank.’ His Dom side, not so much. Cián struggled to focus and isolate his gentler side. He could try to be Shane right now as he had done before, to calm down but even Shane would have yanked her sassy ass out as fast as he could, while smoking her backside at the same time. He’d seen Andrew calmly roast Caoimhe’s butt without breaking a sweat when she had made a choice out of obstinance, not intelligence.

Grabbing Molly and her bag, he shouldered her midriff and balanced her weight as he turned to leave the room. “Fuck off, O’Connor.”

“Oh, hell no,” growled Cián. “That was what I needed to hear leanbh.”

“I’m not your baby.”

“You’re hurting, not rational, and you’re mine. I’m taking over.”

His gentler side was gone. He was going to polish that sassy ass until it shined a glowing ruby red. Then they would start again, from the beginning if necessary. He let his hand land on her skinny behind and missed the round, plumpness he loved. He was satisfied when he heard her cry out in the first round of six. There were tears by the second. Yeah, she was ready.

He had her in the car fast, but before he walked out, he grabbed the hairbrush. “Is there anything you need from this room you cannot replace, aingeal?

“My important papers.” He turned with her still stationed over his shoulder.

“Where?”

She tried to get down, but he didn’t allow it. “Point.”

“I can…” He aimed to the center of her right southern cheek and the pop the hairbrush made sounded like order and control to Cián.

She screeched but pointed, and he retrieved the folder. “Anything else?”

“No. Yes, my box of keepsakes.” She pointed and without another word, he grabbed the little box. “That’s it,” she said with a whine.

He was relieved that she wasn’t demanding he leave her in this slum. It would take a while before the nightmares of what could have happened to her left him.

“Good. Say good-bye to Cheyenne, aingeal.”

Cián expected her to throw a fit and make him work for it but she lay quiet and sweet over his shoulder. He patted her bottom and decided he wouldn’t rub it; she was hoping he would assuage the sting he’d left. Let that memory be the last one of this dingy room.

Alyssa Bailey

USA Today and #1 International best-selling author, Alyssa Bailey, lives amongst the beauty of Southeast Alaska. Alyssa loves beach combing, travel, people watching and both reading and writing realistic romance for the naughty in all of us. Writing power exchanges between strong, intelligent, sassy women who are not afraid to make a stand and men confident enough to give his woman space, but Alpha enough to keep her safe despite her choices is a common theme.