Expecting it All (Punishment Pit #7) - Livia Grant Page 0,35

a glob of the cream out onto his right fingers before lifting Rachel’s legs up and over her chest, exposing her beautiful bare pussy and ass perfectly.

His fingers applied the white cream liberally between her folds, taking extra care to pinch her puffy clit to ensure plenty of cream would stay there. It was only as his hands moved lower to start rubbing the lotion into her already punished ass cheeks that her eyes widened with her first inkling of panic. He snatched her hand as she reached to take the pacifier out of her mouth.

“Bad girl. Daddy decided you needed your naughty girl cream today to keep reminding you who you belong to when I’m away from you.”

Rachel’s ass wiggled in her ineffectual attempt to stop the slow burn that had started across her pussy and punished ass courtesy of the heat-rub cream. “Just be glad I’m using the brand that has no scent. You wouldn’t want people asking you why you smell like Ben-gay now, would you?”

Before she could get her fingers to her body to try to wipe away the offending ointment, Derek pulled a diaper down from the stack on the shelf above her changing table. He made quick work of wrapping her warming parts up, securing the diaper snuggly, before reaching up to grab a few more nappies along with the cream. She’d be sleeping in a diaper and nothing else after being thoroughly fucked after the wedding reception.

Despite the sting the cream had to be delivering, he looked down into his wife’s eyes and recognized he hadn’t seen this same languid peace shining back at him since before Michael had been born. After rinsing his hands on one of the nearby wipes, he just couldn’t resist; he bent down to kiss her forehead, leaning in close to whisper, “I love you so much, Rach.”

She couldn’t speak with the binkie in her mouth, but she did the next best thing, throwing her arms around his neck and letting him lift and carry her downstairs, this time with her sitting on his hip, throwing her legs around him like a monkey, snuggling to burrow her face into the crook of his neck.

Fuck, I wish we could just stay home, but I think Lukus might not forgive me if we missed his wedding.

It took him a few minutes to grab up all of the items Rachel had brought down earlier and throw them into their overnight duffle bag. Only once he had the bag and his wife situated safely in their car did he make sure the back door to the house was locked. As they took off towards downtown, he made a wish that traffic would be light or Lukus might kick his ass good.

Chapter Eight

Derek

“I knew I forgot something. I meant to bring a flask with me,” Markus leaned in to share his regret with Derek and the other groomsmen. “Think I have time to run out to the lobby bar and grab us a round?”

Derek slapped the uncharacteristically silent groom, Lukus, on the back. “That’s up to Lukus. He’s looking a bit green around the gills. I’m not sure alcohol will help.”

The slap seemed to break the Master’s Master out of his trance. “No booze for me.” When no one said anything, he added. “I want to be sure I can remember every minute of the ceremony.”

Derek and Markus shared a dubious glance, but James commended their friend. “I see you’re taking my advice. I’ve never forgiven myself for letting you two yahoos con me into getting wasted the night before my own wedding. I’m lucky Mary didn’t strand me at the alter for smelling like a walking brewery on our wedding day.”

Markus chuckled. “Yeah, we were a bit younger and dumber way back then.”

“I’m not gonna fuck up this day for Tiff,” Lukus added just as Aiden, the fourth groomsman, joined their circle in the small room where the men waited for the ceremony to start.

“Too late. You’re the groom,” Tiffany’s brother jabbed with a grin on his face. The two men had gotten off to a bumpy start, but after Lukus had proven he’d risk his life to protect Aiden’s favorite sister, Aiden was now squarely on team Lukus.

Unfortunately, Tiffany’s father had joined them as well and the senior Mr. O’Sullivan was less a fan. “It’s not too late to back out, Mitchell. You can still salvage your bachelor status,” he added, his faint Irish accent coming through.

It was Aiden, not Lukus,