Page 43 of Just Business
Eli’s lips parted. “Are yousure?”
He pushed the words out with each breath. “Did—you hear—me safeword?”
Lips on his, nearly downing his need before Eli broke the kiss. “My beautiful Justin.”
The pride in Eli’s voice lifted Justin. “Yes.”Everything.I want you to have everything. It had been taken once before. This time, he offered.
“Then thirteen it is, Mr. White.”
Justin arched in his bonds.Yes.
***
Eli pressed his forehead against his shirt sleeve, partly to blot the sweat from his face, but mostly to give himself a moment to breathe, to think.God. He’d flogged Justin harder and longer than any sub he’d had, pushed him into screaming agony and wordless pleasure, taken him to the top—or so he’d thought.
Thirteen. A whisper, a plea for more.
A caning. Against the welts on Justin’s backside? Agony. He walked to the table. And delight. Lyle lingered there and Eli met his gaze. Wonderment and a tiny slice of envy. But he nodded. He’d heard Justin, too. They all had, so silent the room had fallen.
A cane. Not the carbon fiber one—later. There would be time for that later. While Justin wanted pain and, fuck, Eli wanted to turn Justin inside out—he still had to be in control. Keep them both on this side of the edge.
No mistakes.
No matter how much he wanted to go tumbling over with Justin.
Heart beating in his throat and skin and muscle vibrating against bone, Eli drew one of the thinner rattan straight canes off the table. Still quite painful and it would leave beautiful stripes across Justin’s ass.
Wouldn’t that be a delight to see: Justin squirming in his chair at work from the welts Eli had laid there.
He stepped back, ignoring the ache in his leg, the burning in his arms. No idea how long the scene had gone. Didn’t matter. He still had the strength and Justin needed him. He gave the cane a flick in the air, testing its flexibility.
Justin started, the chains rattling against the frame.
Electricity snapped through Eli, down to his cock and balls. He lined himself up and swung, cracking the cane across both buttocks, and Justin’s cry vibrated down to his soul.
“One.”
He let Justin inhale and manage the pain, his lithe form trembling until those slim hips rocked forward, looking for some purchase for Justin’s hard cock.
Enough of that. Eli laid down the second cut, eliciting a longer cry. “Two.”
He didn’t let Justin rest nearly as long before the third or fourth, just enough to count the blow out loud. Justin’s shouts and whimpers, his shudders as each blow landed only drove Eli to land the next stroke harder. “Five.”
He caught himself, balls tight, shoulder aching, and took a breath.
The edge was right there, heady and wonderful. Eli flicked his arm—firmly but controlled.
“Six.”
Justin thrashed in his bonds. “No, please!” Tears had finally ruined Justin’s eyeliner. His face shone with sweat and ecstasy.
Shit. He couldn’t want... Eli swung a bit harder, thecrackof the cane against Justin’s ass resounding like a shot.
There is was, reflected back in the mirror, Justin’s pain slipping into pleasure, mouth open in a scream that made Eli groan. The dark head of Justin’s cock bobbed, tip slick with fluid.
It took every ounce of Eli’s willpower to steady his voice. “Seven.”
He laid eight across one of the other stripes and the sounds Justin made, the twist of joy and hurt in that mirror nearly undid Eli. Nine and ten followed and Eli tightened his grip, grateful for the gloves... his palms were wet—hell every inch of him was drenched. And his cock—
