Page 41 of Ryker

“Let me use it on you.” The words fly out of my mouth before I can stop them.

“There’s an art to flogging someone, and I’m not about to let you whip my back or any other body part without experiencing it yourself first.” He points to the floor. “On your knees, Butterfly.”

When I don’t budge, he surprises me by taking a step back. “Would you be more comfortable if I used this on someone else first, to show you what it’s like?”

“Yes.” But I have no clue who that might be.

I also don’t think he’s in a good space to be using that thing on anyone. He just threw hands with his security guard for crying out loud. Now he’s calm as a cucumber and wanting sex? I don’t get it.

Mr. Hudson walks backwards, keeping his eyes on me while making his way to my suite door. Reaching behind him, he opens it and simply says, “Come in here.”

I had no clue there was someone on the other side of our door this whole time. My jaw drops when Dmitri enters. He’s got a swollen left eye, a split lip, and his thick neck still has Ryker’s handprint around it. But he doesn’t act hurt at all. In fact, he’s just as calm, cool, and collected as Ryker is.

These guys are fucking crazy.

Why am I turned on by that?

“My Butterfly wants to use this flogger on me,” Mr. Hudson explains. “But she’s never used one before.”

Dmitri chuckles. “Then let’s give her a beginner’s lesson.”

“Is that okay with you, Butterfly?”

I’m baffled. Did these two not just have a fist fight five minutes ago? Why would Ryker ask him to be in here?

“I asked you a question, Tara.”

I fix my gaze on Dmitri as he pulls his black t-shirt off. Christ this man’s stacked.

And scarred.

“Yes,” I finally say to Ryker. “I’m totally okay with this. I want to learn.”

Guess what’s just been added to Tara’s sex-filled bucket list, boys and girls.

I try to not stare at Dmitri’s scars, but when he drops to his knees, he grants me a genuine smile and says, “They’re from a long time ago.”

Like that makes it any better? I also notice there are fresh bruises on his ribs. “Did you give him those too, Sir?”

“No,” both men say at the same time.

“I like violence, Butterfly. It gets me off.” Dmitri jabs his finger into his ribs and hisses with a pain, even as his eyes roll back in ecstasy.

My mouth waters and pussy clenches, while my mind screams that this is a bad idea. “That’s… not helpful to me if you’re now about to convince me that a whip won’t hurt.”

“She’s got a point, D.” Mr. Hudson’s smile is a little bigger now. And more real. “How about we switch.”

The men change positions. Mr. Hudson carefully unbuttons his white dress shirt, rolling his shoulders back as he takes it off and lays it on the floor beside him. Dmitri looms over Ryker’s back, and both are staring directly at me.

These two men are powerful.

Bloody and powerful and here to teach me.

Why is this such a fucking turn on?

“The tassels on this one are soft,” Mr. Hudson explains. “Feel them, Butterfly.”

My hand trembles when I touch the whip Dmitri holds out for me. The leather is super soft, like fringe.

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