Page 90 of The Forbidden Trio

Her whole body went warm and weak, and for several moments all she could do was stare. Her mind was emptying out already, simply looking at the tableau he’d set up for them. Then she gave herself a mental shake, set her purse on the floor by the nightstand, and went to freshen up in the bathroom. When she returned to the bedroom, she heard the metallic clank of the elevator doors swinging open, and she turned to watch Max as he strode toward her, a wicked gleam in his eyes and her thong dangling from his fingers. When he stood in front of her, all she wanted was to sink to her knees before him. But she knew she needed to wait for instructions. Instead, she clasped her hands behind her back and bowed her head.

He tilted her chin with his fingers, staring into her eyes.

“You ready, baby?”

“Yes. I’m ready.”

Was that really her own voice, so soft and shaky? This wasn’t her usual style as a bottom. But this was Max, and everything was different. She realized for the first time she wasn’t simply bottoming. She wassubmitting. And she felt that role deep down in her bones, knew it to be her truth.

Max was watching her, she realized, searching her face as he ran his hands down her arms.

“What’s going on in that beautiful head?”

“Only that this is so different for me. Because it’s you. And I want to… I want to submit to you.” It was so scary to tell him, but shehadto be honest with him. “I want to be your submissive. To be yours, Max. Sir.”

He stroked her cheek. “You have no idea how glad I am to hear that. Do you know how I treasure you? How I’ll take care of you?”

“I do. I do, or I wouldn’t be here.”

He smiled, leaned in to brush a kiss across her lips, then yanked her hard against his big body and really kissed her—deeply, his lips forcing hers open, his tongue invading, exploring, commanding.

His hand went to the back of her neck, his grasp firm, and she felt that command all the way to her toes—knew it on a level she’d never known with anyone else. And the last bit of resistance left her body.

When he pulled away she felt an odd sense of loss, but he’d only stepped back to undress her. When she stood naked before him, wearing nothing but her high heels, he picked her up and laid her gently on the bed, then slipped her pretty shoes from her feet. She was pliant beneath him, wanting nothing more than to please him, and it was a feeling more than a thought—one that suffused her system, as though the need itself had replaced the blood in her veins.

Max.

My Sir.

He stood over her, watching her silently, his dark brows drawn in concentration and his eyes roving her body. Her nipples came up hard beneath his focused gaze. She felt so admired. Adored. Incredibly excited, her heart fluttering like hummingbird wings. When he bent to touch her, his hands were so exquisitely gentle, his fingertips brushing over her calves, her thighs, gliding over her hipbones, then up the center of her torso, coming to rest between her breasts. Her sex clenched, needing him to touch her there, but she knew he was the one in control now.

He took one wrist and pulled her arm out to the side, then bent to kiss her palm, letting his teeth dig in just a little, and desire shimmered over her skin. When he buckled the leather cuff around her wrist, desire poured through her in an electric surge. She squirmed the tiniest bit, but he caught it right away.

“Don’t move, Aster. I know you can do it. Take a few deep breaths, find your still place.”

She did as he instructed, her body calming, and he gave her a few more moments before moving to the other side of the bed and repeating the process, kissing her palm, biting into it, then buckling her wrist into place before moving to the foot of the bed.

Again, his hands were gentle, and yet she felt no less forced to spread her legs for him. Commanded. He kissed one ankle, buckled it into the leather shackle, then did the same on the other side. Then he stood over her, watching her once more, his blue eyes gleaming. She saw his desire there, and it thrilled her to know she pleased him.

He turned away and pulled a large duffle bag closer, unzipped it, and came back with several items in his hands, but she didn’t dare lift her head to see what they were. She began to tremble—with excitement, with a little fear.

It’s Max. He’ll take care of you.

She knew it, and yet some of the fear remained. But there was also something about the fear itself that turned her on like crazy. It was as if all the nerves on the surface of her skin were finely attuned to his every motion, his every breath, trying to anticipate what he might do next.

Focus.

He’d laid most of the items on the big bed next to her, and she could smell the tangy scent of leather. Now he bent over her, a small flogger in his hand. He placed one palm in the center of her chest, over her heart.

“Ready?”

Her heart pounded, knowing they were about to start. “Yes. Yes, Sir.”

He began by draping the leather tails of the flogger over her stomach, sweeping it across her skin. And as he did, he brushed her nipples with his fingertips. They were hard as two stones, needing more, and she didn’t have long to wait before he began to pinch first one, then the other. Yearning built in her system—the need for his touch, for the rougher touch of the leather implement in his hand. He straightened up, drew his arm back, and hit her thigh with the flogger. It was an easy stroke, and she knew he was just getting started.

He began a rhythm, one she fell into as the strikes came harder and harder across the front of her thighs. Her skin heated, and as the impact increased and he began to move faster, her mind filled with endorphins even as it emptied of all thought, until she was nothing but a vessel of sensation and the need to please him, her body welcoming and absorbing every strike.

When he struck her breast she gasped in surprise, making him grin.

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