Page 48 of Striker

“Yes!” I scream.

“Say you understand.”

“I understand,” I plead, trying to twist my hips, instinctively trying to avoid another spanking, but there’s not another slap to my skin.

Reaper’s hand slides over my ass, kneading the tender skin as an arm slips under my hips and I’m hauled up, knees scraping over the dirt until I’m kneeling. Viper adjusts his grip on my wrists, holding them crossed at my back, drawing me against him in a twisted embrace. I drop my head, my forehead hitting his warm chest. I breathe in and out heavily, all my senses crashing together violently. Every nerve ending lit up brightly so that I’m aware of their every breath. The way Reaper’s fingers feel on my ass. How Striker’s hand slides along my jawline. Viper’s chest moving up and down under my cheek and his grip on my wrists The faint smell of sweat and soap and earth mixed with a dark, woodsy scent. Breaker’s hand runningup my back to my neck. The deep intense clawing low in my belly like a gnawing hunger, but for something I can’t name.

Reaper’s fingers slip down lower, over the fabric of my underwear, right at my core, and he curses under his breath. “She’s soaked.”

My cheeks flame and I tuck my face into Viper’s shirt, inhaling his clean, slightly citrusy scent.Fuck youseems to be the only response I’m capable of, but I clamp it behind my teeth and remain silent, refusing to give them the satisfaction of my anger.

A light slap lands on my pussy, making me jolt. I hiss out a breath into Viper’s chest. Lightning shoots from my center to the base of my spine.

“Naughty, naughty, Kitten,” Reaper rasps. “This pretty pussy is begging for us.”

My tongue flickers over the slightly swollen cut where my teeth bit into my bottom lip, out of retorts and… words. I have nothing because he’s right. That nagging ache is begging to be soothed.

Striker makes an approving sound in his throat. My heart skitters at the quiet praise. “Did our pretty Princess just need to be put in line? That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? We warned you what would happen if you ran and you did, anyway.”

Reaper slips his hand slightly over the material again and I arch back into his touch, hating his dark chuckle. Hating myself and my body that I can’t seem to control. Detesting how a spark of need flies outward, catching fire, and I want him to do it again.

“What a good girl,” Striker says, petting my head. “You took your lesson so well, maybe we should reward you.”

I lift my head from Viper’s chest and bite my lip to keep in an angry growl, wishing Reaper would just do it already. Take me. Fuck me ruthlessly again until this hunger dissipates.

His fingers tap up lightly again and I clench around nothing. He does it again. Then again. “You need to come, don’t you?”

An angry, slightly desperate, fully anguished sound slips out, and I press my cheek back to Viper’s chest.

My nods going to send me to hell, but I do it anyway.

“Say it, Sweetheart.” Viper’s gentle tone fires through my brain as his voice reverberates through my cheek. “We need to hear you say it.”

I don’t want to say it. Saying it means I want them.

The word clings and claws, grips the inside of my throat, desperate to stay in, but it breaks free on a whimper. “Yes,” I whisper, elongating the word as a finger slips over my cheek.

“What a sweet little kitty you are when you want us to please you,” Reaper says. He runs a finger along my opening and I feel how wet I am, my panties soaked. He presses hard as he slips a finger over my clit.“You want to come so bad, don't you.”

Fuck.

I nod, burying my face in Viper's chest.

Reaper's growl as he slips over my clit again shoots fire to my core. “Good girl.”

My mouth opens, breath rushing out. Viper shifts, his grip tightening. A tear slips down my cheek. He's going to make me “Please.”

“Such a sweet little purr,” Viper whispers into my hair. “Let's hear it again.”

“Please.”

He slaps my pussy again. My back arches. A moan slips past. I’ve lost all control of myself, my body, my mind, and I don’t care. I just want him to touch me. Soothe this ache twisting between my thighs, curling like thorny vines in my belly. “Breaker, remove her panties.”

I hear the slick sound of a knife leaving its sleeve, feel the cold metal flat against my skin. Then the material is cut away as Striker holds my left leg and Breaker grips my other, spreading me wide.

I don’t need help. I do it for them, mindless with need.

Cold air touches my heated flesh. I tilt my hips, straining to get my ass higher, leaning into Viper’s solid form, my body begging for more.

---