Page 73 of Sweet Little Spies

The folded flap of leather at the tip of a riding cropcaressed her lips. Carys gasped in surprise because she hadn’t noticed he’dgrabbed it from his kit.

“Last chance to show us that you can be a good girl,”Tristan said.

She could only see their boots, four of them standingtogether. Despite her gaze being on the floor, the image of them togetherformed in her mind, Tristan and Aidan—her men—standing together, workingtogether to punish her. To please her.

The words were all part of the act. She was their good girland they her loving tops. They might have thought frustration would be the wayto break through, but she suddenly didn’t feel the need to scream. She onlywanted to be with them. In every wicked way possible.

Aidan flicked the crop against her nipples, then pressed thetip hard against the underside of one breast, lifting it. “Spread your pussyopen and show us how wet you are.”

She did her best to follow the order without her hands.Carys spread her legs as wide as she could, lowering herself until her armswere pulled tight, and she would have lost her balance if she hadn’t had therestraints to pull against.

She felt her labia part, knew her pussy was open andvulnerable.

But not visible.

Because while he’d taken her skirt, he’d known what he wasdoing when he’d left her in the thong.

She still had one thing on, and while it didn’t cover much,it covered what her Masters wanted to see.

The crop flicked against the inside of her left thigh. Aquick strike, the pain bright and sharp, fading fast.

“I’m sorry, Sirs. I want to be obedient.”

“But you aren’t.” Tristan’s words were soft. “You’re alwayssuch a perfect submissive. My dream sub. But tonight you are pushing me.”

She was pushing him exactly where they all wanted to go.“This isn’t fair, Sir.”

The crop cracked against the inside of her other thigh.Carys flinched, the delicate skin feeling hot and thin.

Aidan rolled his shoulders, tipping his head first one wayand then the other. She knew that look and did her best to brace herself.

He brought the crop up in an underhand strike. The sound ofleather on flesh was loud as it snapped against her inner thighs. Again andagain he struck her. Not their normal pace of impact play, but the sweet painmade her lick her lips. Aidan would spank her when she asked for it, but thiswas something different. This felt like a real Master. She expected it fromTristan, but Aidan was a revelation.

“Sir, do you want me to count?”

“Count?” Aidan asked.

“Count each strike of my punishment?”

Tristan chuckled, a deep sound that rolled over her like adrug. “Punishment?”

The crop cracked against her pussy. Pain and pleasureblossomed in her, and Carys screamed, as much in shock as pain. Aidan struckher right above her clit, and as the stinging heat faded, a pulsing throbstarted up, making her clit feel swollen and needy.

“This wasn’t punishment.” He dropped the crop to the stageand cupped her sex in his big, hard hand. “That was me enjoying what’s mine.”

Aidan’s other hand fisted in her hair, forcing her head backso he could devour her mouth even as he pulled up on her pussy, making it throbharder.

He bit her bottom lip. “Now it’s time for your punishment.”

* * * *

Aidan had never felt so fucking in control before. The loveof his life was wet and ready for whatever he gave her.

And he had to acknowledge the only reason this worked wasbecause Tristan was here.

Tristan was right. They weren’t merely friends. They weresomething more, and acknowledging that, allowing it to be whatever it was goingto be, made a massive difference. It took away any slight awkwardness they’dhad before, when Aidan wasn’t sure of his place. Now he settled in.

Carys was oddly calm. He could tell from the set of hershoulders and the serene look in her eyes. Tris had been right about this, too.When they’d decided on this form of play, Aidan had worried. Tris had explainedit was his way to show her he wouldn’t ever do this to her again. That he wouldput her needs, her peace, first.

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