Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 133213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Aidan’s eyes were already on her breasts. “You know it will. I’ve always wanted to show you off, wanted to parade you around this club and show the world I have a beautiful sub.”
His hands gripped the bottom of the corset, squeezing the edges together until the hook and eye closures came undone and the bottom few inches were unfastened.
“You want us to share our property with other people?” Tristan asked in a dangerous voice.
Every possessive word caressed over her skin. She needed to believe him, needed to know she was his because it was the only way he could be hers again.
“I want to please—” She couldn’t get the rest of the words out as he gripped the top of the corset, thumbs slipping under the fabric, sliding back and forth over her nipples.
Pleasure sizzled through her from that simple touch. Her moan became a gasp when two quick movements unfastened her corset, and it fell to the stage around her heels.
He pulled at the skirt, dragging it down her hips and off her, leaving her in only a silky white thong.
The lights warmed her now bare breasts, and when Tristan’s fingers danced over the underside of them she strained forward, wanting more of his touch. Wanting to tempt Aidan to join them. She could see the bulge of his aroused cock tenting his leathers.
Tristan cupped her bare breasts, lifting them. Displaying them for the people in the audience. His thumbs flicked her nipples, quick casual motions.
“I don’t like all these strangers looking at what’s mine,” Tristan said.
There was a faint “bullshit” from someone in the unseen audience. It elicited a snort from Carys because while whoever said it was an asshole, he was also right.
She moaned as Aidan reached out and twisted her nipple, bringing her back into the moment.
“Pay attention, sub,” Aidan commanded. “He said he didn’t like all these strangers looking at you. Are you his?”
Was she? She felt like his. In this club, she was definitely theirs. “Yes. I’m his.”
“You are his, too, aren’t you?” Tristan asked, his body big and warm at her back.
Always had been, always would be. No matter what happened. Even if she walked away in the end.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Who decides if you get pleasure…” Tristan circled her areolas with his thumbs, then gently gripped her nipples. It was a barely there touch, but she was so aroused it felt like she’d been shocked with a live wire when he applied faint pressure.
“…or pain?” He pinched her nipples. Hard.
Carys cried out, arching her back as he pulled on her nipples, distending them from her body, and then twisted viciously.
He released her nipples abruptly, her breasts bouncing. She moaned softly, pressing back against him.
Tristan’s hand gripped her hair, hard, her scalp lighting up with pain. “Answer me.”
“You do, Sir. You and Master Aidan decide.”
He grunted in satisfaction and released her hair.
“Cover up, sub.”
Carys didn’t hesitate this time. “Master Aidan, would you put my corset back on me, please?”
He walked around to face her. “No.”
“Sir, I can’t cover up unless you help me because I can’t use my hands.” Carys raised her brows and once more jiggled the restraints. Her nipples felt hot and tender, and she knew her pussy was almost embarrassingly wet. The eyes she could feel on her only added to both sensations.
She realized her mistake. “Please, could you help me, Master Tristan?”
Tristan moved to stand beside Aidan. His lips curled up as his eyes took in every inch of her body.
“No,” he said, echoing his partner.
She stared right back at them, loving how they looked standing there torturing her together. Those men had been her everything for so long. Wasn’t it worth the risk if they could find their way back? If Tris was really ready now?
Aidan leaned in, looking her straight in the eyes. “Sub, where are you supposed to be looking?”
She’d been looking at them as she sorted through her tangled emotions, examining each of his familiar features.
But they were in high protocol.
Carys dropped her gaze to Aidan’s boots. “I’m sorry, Sir.”
“You should be. You’ve already earned punishments,” Aidan said. “All you’re doing is adding to the total.”
Her body thrummed in pleasure at the promise of impact play.
The folded flap of leather at the tip of a riding crop caressed her lips. Carys gasped in surprise because she hadn’t noticed he’d grabbed it from his kit.
“Last chance to show us that you can be a good girl,” Tristan said.
She could only see their boots, four of them standing together. Despite her gaze being on the floor, the image of them together formed in her mind, Tristan and Aidan—her men—standing together, working together to punish her. To please her.
The words were all part of the act. She was their good girl and they her loving tops. They might have thought frustration would be the way to break through, but she suddenly didn’t feel the need to scream. She only wanted to be with them. In every wicked way possible.