Page 91 of The Forbidden Trio

“You like this, I can tell. Your nipples are so damn hard. So tempting.” He paused to reach down and squeeze one, hard, making her cry out and come up off the bed. His palm immediately came to press down in the center of her chest, forcing her to hold still. “That won’t do at all, my pretty girl. You need to hold as still as you can. Can you do that, Aster?”

“Yes, I can hold still. At least, I can try. Sir.”

He chuckled. “Try very hard.”

He pulled back and landed a blow on the other breast, then he sank into a rhythm once more, the leather falls striking first one breast, then the other. The pain was dazzling, making her want more. But she did her best not to squirm as he hit harder and harder, faster and faster, until she was breathless with the relentless pain.

Finally, he stopped, and suddenly he was running one of the long-stemmed roses over the sore spots on her thighs and her breasts. It felt amazing, almost like velvet, until he used his hand to press the thorns into her flesh.

“Oh!”

He grinned, then started again, lulling her with the soft petals, then pausing to press the thorns against her body, making her wince. Soon there was the smell of freshly crushed rose petals in the air, adding another sensory layer to the experience as he stroked her body, making her tremble with need when he slid the rose over her aching pussy.

“Mmm…”

“Is that good, baby girl?” He reached down and ran his fingers over her pussy lips, and she gasped, barely managing to hold still.

He dropped the rose on the bed and bent to kiss her lips. “How are we doing, baby? Are we still green?”

“Yes, so green, Sir.”

“Good girl.”

Leaving one hand on her belly, he reached over her and came back with a neuro wheel—a long-handled chrome pinwheel with several barrels of wicked metal spikes. With his hand still holding her down—not pressing exactly, but firmly enough for her to feel she was being held in place—he ran the shining spikes over her breast and across her nipple. Goosebumps rose all over her body, and she giggled.

“Is that funny, Aster?”

“It tickles.”

He did it again, much harder this time, and the spikes bit into her skin. “How about now?”

“Oh! Not funny anymore, Sir!”

He chuckled, then moved it up her inner thigh, lightly with the first pass, then pressing the spikes into the tender flesh. When he reached the apex of her thighs, he stood over her, a wicked grin on his handsome face.

“Tell me, Aster, do you think I’d use this on your sweet pussy? Would I be that mean?”

She didn’t know how to respond. She wanted him to, yet it scared her at the same time. But somehow, what came out of her mouth was, “Yes, please.”

He laughed wickedly, and she warmed all over at the distinct pleasure in his laughter. Then the warmth shifted to blazing heat as he rolled the small instrument over her mound.

“Oh!”

“Shh, baby. Stay as quiet as you can.”

He did it again, rolling it up and down, sometimes gently, sometimes pressing the spikes against her, and it was a dizzying combination of pain and fear and pleasure. Then he held one thigh down hard with a firm hand and rolled the spiked wheel in between her thighs, pressing it against her hole, until she was certain he was going to fuck her with the evil thing.

“Ah! Please, Max. Sir.”

“Please what? Are you calling red?”

“No, but… you’re not going to…?”

“To fuck you with this?” He grinned, and paused just long enough for her heart to hammer in frightened anticipation. “It’s a lovely idea, but this is a five-barrel wheel, and I have plans for your sweet pussy that don’t involve hurting it enough to render it useless. Yet.”

She breathed a sigh of relief.

“But I am going to do this.”

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