Page 67 of The Dom with the Kink Monsters

“Please,” she whispered.

“Please more?” He grabbed the sterilized knife and ran it over her back, between pins, like a fiendish slalom. She shrieked. A small line of blood rose on her ass when he pressed harder. He eased up and moved the knife away, leaning in to taste her fear, smell her arousal. Copper in his mouth. His mind and body warred, one wanting to cut, the other to fuck.

She’d fallen silent under his hands, eyes glassy, mouth open. His body won. Uncuffing her, he then lowered her to her face on the concrete floor, pulled her hips up. He drove his cock into her wetness, grunting at how tight she was, how hot. Supporting her hips with one forearm, he pummeled into her, using her body to ease the ache she’d made inside him. One by one, he yanked out the pins, beads of blood adorning the white perfection of her back. He pulled off the gloves, clawing his fingers through the lot of them.

His woman screamed again, her cunt gripping around his cock, trying to steal the last vestiges of his humanity as she came. He lost control, pounding into her, the rough floor digging into his knees. His snarl was animalistic, ripped from his throat as his bodydischarged into hers. For a moment he couldn’t see and he wondered if he’d fucked himself blind. Exhausted, he collapsed onto his side, pulling her into the shelter of his arms. Breathing. She was breathing. He exhaled in relief.

Quiet stole over the room. The floor was cold, and eventually he convinced himself to get up and take Winter somewhere more comfortable. He coaxed her to her feet, picked her up, and carried her to the mattress. Ramsay pulled Saya closer and Mack laid Winter out on her stomach, then went to get alcohol. He cleaned the small punctures he’d made, and Winter mewled and shuddered under his hands.

As he worked, he glanced over at Ramsay, who watched the process with fascination. Saya was tucked into his chest and seemed to be asleep. Winter was subspacing and he knew better than to try to bring her out of it before she came out on her own.

“Was it my imagination or did she get off?”

“Oh, she got off.” Mack stroked the hair back from her forehead and kissed her there. Her eyes were open and staring – she seemed aware, but not interested in communicating just yet. “You two managed okay?”

Ramsay smirked. “I fucked Saya at some point and we both got off, but you were too busy to notice. As soon as you went further than the canes, she wouldn’t look.”

“Not my kink!” Saya blurted, her voice muffled by Ramsay’s chest.

Mack laughed quietly. He slid in beside Winter and held her tight. “Well, you wanted to see what we did when we were alone. That was a pretty good example.”

“I can’t imagine doing that every time. It’s too intense. Don’t you ever just have regular sex?”

“Sometimes, when we’re feeling lazy, but it’s probably not as much fun to watch.” He licked the back of Winter’s neck, sweat making her skin salty. “So what about you? Were you freaked out?”

Ramsay looked thoughtful. “Not especially. I watched your face, though. That was creepy. You, Mack, are one crazy motherfucker.”

Mack wasn’t insulted. It was only the truth.

Winter looked dreamily at Mack, her eyes slitted.

“Yes, he is a crazy motherfucker, and he’s all mine.”

Chapter Twelve

Her stomach twisted and fluttered. She watched and waited while Master snoozed in the chair at her elbow. The show they’d done the night before had run late, and the drive back from New York City had been bumper to bumper. He didn’t see what the big deal was, but it wasn’t his life that was being turned completely upside down.

Finally, they were summoned and the flight attendant checked their ID – and checked out Master. Spider gripped the flight attendant’s hand, looking frightened, tousled. His face was dirty. The pants he wore were too short and his raggedy bear had one button eye that was dangling precariously.

“Hey, big guy!” Master thumped him on the back and Spider dodged behind the woman, staring at him with round eyes.

Saya got down low, made a face, waved and scrunched her nose. The attendant urged the boy toward Saya, seeming to decide she was the safer bet.

“Hi Spider, I’m your Auntie Saya.” She held out the little stuffed dog she had bought him at a shop in New York. He took a few steps toward her and held out his hand for the toy. Without asking for more, she handed over the dog. “Where is his luggage?”

The woman shrugged and pointed at the toddler backpack on his back. It was the size of a lunch bag.

What on earth? Master’s sister, Bronwyn, made decent money. Why was her boy so unkempt?

With his big blue eyes and shaggy blond hair, the similar bone structure, there was no question that the boy was related to Master. Whether the personality was similar when the boy was more comfortable with them remained to be seen.

“Let’s go to our house, Spider. We got a tent for you to sleep in and set it up in our living room. It’ll be like a camp-out!”

He nodded, unsmiling, and went to her. When she took his hand, he allowed it. Master smiled at her and she was pleased to have pleased him.

“Are you hungry?”

Spider shook his head no, and looked over the dog she’d given him. “He’s small.”

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