Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
It wasn’t enough.
Normally if he was in charge, he wouldn’t ask, but since they hadn’t established a safe word yet—something he needed to do—he asked, “Too much?”
“No,” she whispered.
He stopped brushing her skin and put his lips to her ear. “Before we go further, I need to ask what your safe word is.” She better have one. Especially after what he witnessed Ford doing to her.
“Pineapple.”
That was a common one and easy enough to remember. “Pineapple, it is,” he confirmed.
Personally, he preferred the “red light” system. He wished his partners did, too. It was nice to have more than only a word used to “stop.” He liked the idea that green meant everything was A-okay or they wanted more, yellow was slow down or be careful, and red was to stop immediately. It was simple and effective.
He should’ve given that system to Ford instead of only a word. If the three of them actually became a regular thing, he would propose they switch over to that. Apparently, he hadn’t been thinking straight at the time.
He silently chuckled in his head. Actually, seeing Ford naked and strapped down on a spanking bench certainly hadn’t helped him think straight.
He took long strokes with the brush over her back, testing to see how much pressure he should use. He wanted it to feel good and turn her on, not make her flawless skin bleed. While some people were into blood play, he was definitely not.
He continued sweeping the brush over her back, her ass and the back of her thighs, then moved around to her front, brushing the front of her supple thighs and using the bristles to tease her pussy. He then ran it up her stomach and chest before concentrating on her nipples.
The path of pink left behind was picture perfect.
“You like that?” he whispered.
“Yessss,” came out on a breath. Her eyes were closed, and she appeared relaxed, so he took that as a sign his pressure wasn’t unbearable. If it became so, it only took a single word to stop him.
He once again sucked a now-red nipple into his mouth, soothing it by swirling his tongue around, as he continued to scrape the stiff bristles over the other.
He switched again.
And again.
But he needed to move on…
Chapter Eighteen
Forcing himself to pull away, Dylan set down the brush and picked up the crop next. He whipped his palm harder in front of Erin’s face, making her eyes open at the sharp slap.
If his palm could take that strike, so could her ass.
But unlike the rest of her, he didn’t want her ass pink, he wanted it as red as Ford had made it two days ago. He wanted his marks to cover any that remained from his facilities manager.
Was it like a dog marking a bush after another male peed on it? Sure. He also didn’t care if anyone thought that.
He lightly tapped the wide leather end of the riding crop all over her body, only striking her slightly harder on her breasts and nipples.
“You know the word to say if it gets to be too much. Do you need a reminder?”
“No,” she groaned. “I know what it is.”
“Good…” He then frowned when he realized they needed to get to know each other all over again. A lot changed in seventeen years. “Do you like praise?”
“I do,” came out on a breath.
“Then… good girl.” He bopped her playfully on her nose with the crop. “I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with. Or do anything that turns you off. So, if I do, use pineapple.”
“I will. Promise.”
“Good girl,” he whispered.
Did she shudder? Well, then. Yes, he was liking this version of Erin. A hell of a lot.
Maybe instead of being jealous, he really should thank Ford for helping her to discover her inner kink.
He’d consider it. But right now, he had more important things to do. One of them being turning her ass a gorgeous shade of red.
He smoothed his palm over one cheek, then the other, before picking his target and striking it. He made sure to hold back and not put all his strength behind it. He wanted her to enjoy it, not suffer or injure her. He’d also preferred her adrenaline to kick in before cropping her any harder.
Despite his impatience, he restrained himself until her ass cheeks were just on the cusp of red. Once they were, he warned, “I won’t be holding back anymore. You know what to do if it becomes too much.”
He couldn’t see her face, but he could see her nod. So, with that, he let the crop fly. He left marks that began to rise into welts all over both cheeks, making her ass remind him of a peppermint stick.
Good enough to lick.
She did not use her word or cry out in pain, instead she seemed to fall into a blissful state.