stepped aside, and now… Oh God, now it was my turn.
I stood back and looked down at the gorgeous blank canvas laid out in front of me. Aaron had the most beautiful body anyway, and now his skin glowed pink from everything Will had done. His tattoos stood out, and every time his chest rose or fell with a slow breath, I couldn’t help being mesmerized by him.
I opened and closed my hands around the whip’s handle. To be on the safe side, I glanced around to make sure Will was out of the line of fire. He was—he’d taken a seat in the armchair between the door and one of the dressers. Perfect.
With Will out of the way and Aaron ready for me, I raised the whip.
The first crack of the tail against Aaron’s shoulder drove a throaty, strangled cry from him that made my head spin. I whipped him again, hitting his other shoulder this time, and he gasped, his back arching and the restraints creaking as he pulled at them.
Dear Lord, his pain was divine. The sounds he made, the way his body jumped and tensed, the way his fists clenched and unclenched. Sweat poured off his flushed skin, and every time I struck him, I was pushing him closer to his limits as he whimpered or grunted or cried out.
The tail cracked against his ass cheek, and Aaron’s whole body jerked. He moaned, eyes squeezed shut and lips pulled tight across his teeth, and then I hit him again and he made a sound that could have been surprise, could have been pain, could have been ecstasy. For a masochist like him, it was quite possibly all three.
I kept going. Aaron kept crying out. Will kept watching. My arm ached. My shoulders ached. But I kept going because Aaron was a trembling, cursing mess, and all the tension he’d been carrying earlier seemed to be a distant memory as his muscles relaxed beneath welt-striped skin.
I glanced at Will. He watched us, the front of his jeans tight across his prominent erection, and when he met my eyes and grinned, renewed arousal swept through me. Beating screams out of a masochist was hot. Beating screams out of a masochist while the Dom we shared looked on and hardened and approved was… fuuuck.
Eventually, my arms were tired enough that I was going to lose the ability to control the whip before too long. That was asking to hurt Aaron in a way he didn’t like, so I lowered the whip and turned to Will. “That’s… I don’t have anything left.”
Will rose, the chair squeaking with the movement. He stopped beside me put a hand on my wait, and leaned in for a long, lazy kiss. “You did good.”
My heart fluttered. “Thank you.”
He grinned again. Kissed me again. Then bent to stroke his husband’s cheek. “Have you had enough?”
Wordlessly, Aaron nodded. Will looked at me, and he nodded as well. I returned it, coiled up the whip, and stepped aside to grab a swig of water.
“You did good, baby,” Will purred to Aaron. “Now I want to fuck you.”
I almost dropped my water. I’d forgotten about Will’s promise earlier this evening, and the moan that slipped off Aaron’s lips gave me goose bumps.
Oh yeah. Fuck him. Let me watch.
I took a seat in the chair where Will had been sitting, and I watched. Aaron was still restrained, and he was absolutely boneless as Will positioned himself behind him. Will hadn’t bothered to get undressed—he’d just rucked down his jeans and boxers so they were out of the way, and something about that was even hotter than if he were fully naked. It made him look needy and hungry, as if he couldn’t wait the few seconds it would take to get out of his clothes before he had Aaron. At the same time, especially as he carefully guided his well-lubed dick to Aaron’s well-beaten ass, he looked collected and controlled—a delicious contrast with his naked, debauched, and bound husband.
Aaron was so far in subspace, I doubted he’d be able to get it up, never mind get off, but he didn’t seem to care. He moaned with delirious pleasure as Will slowly rode him.
Had I ever seen anything hotter than this in my life? Not that I could think of. Especially since I could barely think at all.