I know I can stop this with a word. All of them will respect it. Ultimately, I have the power here, even if it’s only in relinquishing it entirely.
I don’t want it to stop. I welcome the cascade of sensations as they lift me a little and someone hooks the spreader bar to what sounds like a chain overhead. I’m not quite suspended—my feet can still barely touch the ground—but it’s a precarious balance. As if to prove that truth, Gaeton and Malone release me, and I wobble. Hook catches me instantly, which tells me that he was here all along. That I was never in any danger of falling.
The thought makes me want to laugh. It’s true. I’ve lost the ability to fall a long time ago. I have no interest in getting it back. Not even for him. Especially not for him.
“Still with me?” He murmurs. For a second, I can almost imagine his thumbs brushing my cheekbones, but the touch is gone so quickly, I’m sure I imagine it.
I lick my lips. “Where else would I be?”
“Good.” Another light touch, this time his lips on mine. “You get your pain before you get your pleasure.”
It takes my swirling mind a few precious moments to catch up to what he’s talking about, and by then his touch is gone, and he’s just a disembodied voice in the near distance. “Gaeton is going to lick your pretty pussy, but you will not come until I allow it.”
“Orgasm deprivation. Real original.” I try to smirk, but I can’t quite manage it. It takes everything I have to keep up the attitude, but I don’t have another choice. We’ve barely begun to play, and I’m already teetering on the brink of something unforgivable.
“Let’s see if you keep that smart mouth through what I have planned, beautiful girl.”
I open said smart mouth to reply, but Gaeton chooses that moment to grab my thighs and drag me bodily to his mouth, lifting me a bit so my toes barely touch the ground. I’m not small, but he’s built like a brick house and his arms don’t even shake as he drags his tongue over my pussy. “Mmmm.” Gaeton rumbles out a laugh. “Hook, you give the best gifts.”
“I’m just getting started.” Hook still sounds amused, but his voice is rougher, as if he’s just as affected by this as I am. “Begin.”
For a second, I think he’s speaking to me, but then the first lash hits my back, and I realize he was talking to the other two. They flog me, strikes landing just so, as if they’re standing at different angles at my back. It doesn’t hurt, exactly, but the sting morphs into a hot delicious burn that has me writhing just as much as Gaeton’s mouth does. “Hook,” I gasp.
“Everything they do to you is an extension of me.” He sounds directly in front of me. He must be standing at Gaeton’s back. “Gaeton’s tongue between your thighs.” The man in question groans against my skin, and then I feel the back of Hook’s hand touching my inner thigh. It takes my pleasure-pain drugged brain a moment to understand that he’s got his fingers in the other man’s hair, that he’s using his touch to guide Gaeton’s mouth, urging him up to my clit.
I try to roll my hips, but Gaeton’s got me in too tight a grip. Hook’s laugh goes a little mean. “Everything in this room happens at my whim. That includes your orgasms. Not yet, beautiful girl.”
The strikes against my back pick up, and I can’t hold a whimper down. It feels like my back is on fire. “Please.”
“That’s a start.”
Pleasure winds and winds, the pain buoying it into something beyond comprehension. My toes curl with it. Each exhale comes out more like a sob. I can’t hold my orgasm back. Fuck, I don’t want to. I’m so close, I can feel myself tipping over the edge…
Everything stops.
Gaeton gives my thigh a nip and carefully sets my feet back on the ground. The flogging stops as suddenly as it started. I’m left weaving on my toes, half hanging from the bar shackling my wrists. It’s not comfortable, exactly, but I’m too over sensitized to care. I gasp in a breath, but the oxygen only makes my brain and body meld into a cascade of sparks. “You fucker.”
“There she is.” Hands unclasp the cuffs around my wrists, and then Hook’s arms are around me. I’m too out of my mind to question that I know it’s him. It simply is. He guides me over his broad thighs and carefully places my hands on the floor. The position leaves my ass in the air, and I already know what’s coming when a paddle descends and pain reverberates through me.
“Holy shit.” This pain play is still on the light end of the spectrum, but it’s a carefully orchestrated dance Hook’s overseeing to keep me on the edge. It’s working.