Page 27 of Piece Us Together

“Green, sir.” I melt into the mattress, deciding to take a risk by asking for something I never would have dared ask a master in the past. “Can I please have more, sir?”

Hunter chuckles, low and pleased. “Oh, Nolan, we’re just getting started.”

He proves his words right as he changes his angle and begins landing single-handed smacks to my cheeks—left, right, center, left, right, center—again and again.

I’m just starting to sweat when he pauses. My mind hums, all fuzzy and light as I ride out the lingering sensations.

“Color?”

“Green, sir,” I mumble, my body shivery and electric.

“Hmm.” His hands smooth over my ass, making me have to swallow sounds of discomfort. His thumbs slip into my crack to tease at the sides of my hole. I moan, my toes curling as I fight the urge to beg. “You took your warmup so well. I think that’s earned you a bit of a reward.”

“I was good, sir?” I ask before I can stop myself.

“You weresogood.” One of his hands drops away, the other lingering on my hip as if he doesn’t want to leave me untouched. It’s such a small gesture. Such a simple moment of care. Yet, it has my whole body lighting up. “Maison, come sit in front of him.”

“Oh, I’m—I’m okay.”

“I’m going to hurt him again. Worse. I’m going to hurt him until he cries for me.” The hand still on me begins to stroke along the curve of my ass. “Don’t you want to be the one to make him feel better while I do?”

I can’t see Maison, but I hear the shaky breath he sucks in, followed by the subtle creak of the chair as he stands. The mattress dips. I turn my head, my chest filling with warmth at the sight of the man I love inching toward me. He gives me a nervous smile as he settles with his legs bracketing my upper body, his crotch just an inch or two in front of my face. His big hands cradle my face, thumbs stroking along my cheeks. “You’re amazing, baby.”

I can’t help the tears that sting my eyes and burn my throat. “Y-yeah? Really?”

“Really. So fucking amazing. So good.” He flicks his gaze to Hunter, swallowing hard. His voice trembles as he adds, “You should see the way he looks at you.”

I don’t know how to take that.

It doesn’t matter. Hunter speaks again, drawing my full attention. “Color?”

“Green, sir.”

Without warning, leather stings across my ass. I jolt forward with a gasp, eyes wide, hands scrabbling for Maison. He weaves our fingers together, eyebrows pulled in. Hunter hits me again. It’s like electricity, like oxygen, like coming home. I sob with the relief of it.

Maison tenses. “Color?” he suddenly asks, his voice tight.

The flogger stops mid-air, Hunter waiting.

“Green, Mais.” I look at him, my mind clearing with every second that passes. And I remember the slashes on his back. The barely-healed scars. I never asked what specifically gave them, but it was no doubt something leather, something that wasswung at him until he bled. “It’s good—it’s a good hurt, Mais. He’s not gonna—it’sgood.”

Maison’s expression twists as he goes through the familiar struggle of understanding me. Then it hardens as he looks at Hunter. “Don’t you dare make him bleed.”

Even without looking, I can feel the shock from the other man. “Never.”

Maison nods. Then nods again. “Okay.” He looks down at me. “How can I—let me help. Let me make you feel better. Please?”

“I bet he’d love to have your cock to suck on,” Hunter suggests.

I perk. “Can I? Please?

“Yeah?” Maison asks, his voice raspy for a new reason. His pupils are slowly dilating. “My cock will make you feel better, baby?”

I sigh a little blissfully. “Always does.”

He practically puffs up with pride, his hands already moving to his pants.

I feel Hunter shift behind me as Maison fishes his half-hard cock out, the shaft rapidly filling. He offers it to me, but I pause. Hesitate.

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