Page 97 of Her Beast

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Malcolm caressed Maisie’s lush bottom, amused when she jolted at his touch. Oh, how she loathed him.

And hemustbe loathsome to enjoy fucking a woman who couldn’t abide the sight or thought or feel of him.

Thank God for money, he thought with a vicious smirk, squeezing her cheek one last time before stepping back so he could warm up Maisie’s backside.

It had been a long time since he’d delivered a whipping but talking about it tonight with Julia had made him hungry for it. Still, he was terribly out of practice, so he chosen the softest of the suede flails, a whip so delicate that it was impossible to hurt anyone with it.

Normally he’d switch to something more aggressive after warming her up, but given his state of sexual frustration, a harmless flail was best for all.

It took him a half dozen swings to get into the proper rhythm. Once he felt comfortable with the tool, he could spare more attention to watching the women in the mirror.

Maisie was a greedy, responsive little thing and Amanda—a gorgeous brunette with a mouth that was truly a national treasure—brought her to her first orgasm before Malcolm had even broken a sweat.

“No rest for the wicked,” he grunted out when Amanda would have sat back on her heels to give Maisie time to recover.

The experienced whore knew what Malcolm meant and immediately fastened her lips around Maisie’s sensitive bud, causing the other woman to whimper and beg.

“Please, Mr. Barton,” she whined, trying to jerk her hips away from Amanda’s expert lips. But she was bound too tightly to move. “It’s too much.”

Normally he would have enjoyed her pretty begging—even though she was laying it on a bit thick—but tonight it grated on his nerves.

He briefly considered pausing to gag her, but—to be honest—he wasn’t sure he’d find the desire and energy to continue if he did.

So instead, he whipped her until his arm was tired and her arse was rosy. By then, Amanda had forced another three orgasms from her, and Malcolm knew he was just being cruel.

Besides, he was bored; whipping her was not proving as therapeutic as he’d hoped.

Malcolm tossed aside the flail, unbuttoned his placket, and took out his cock, needing to pump himself before he was hard enough to bury himself in her soaking wet cunt.

Well, at least one of them was enjoying a pleasurable evening.

He accidentally caught sight of himself in the glass—a brutish monster with his damaged half face twisted into a snarl—and squeezed his eyes shut, fucking her faster, as if he could outpace the hideous sight.

Unbidden, Julia entered his mind. It wasn’t a prurient image, but how she’d looked earlier after thrashing him at their nightly game of cribbage, her eyes shining with mischievous joy, her grin beautiful and genuine.

Unsurprisingly, his cock hardened fully at the memory, his balls drawing up tight to his body.

He smiled and the image shifted, until his imaginary Julia wore a different expression—this one shy and shocked and titillated, after he’d admitted to the sort of sex he enjoyed, in lingering detail.

That memory was all it took to shove him over the brink.

Malcolm grunted and buried himself to his root, his body spasming as he found his release.

Of course he’d barely finished before reality descended on him, reminding him that the cunt milking his balls dry belonged to a woman who despised him.

Malcolm scowled as he pulled out of her body, tired of his own bloody thoughts.

He tucked his wilted cock back into his pants and dimmed the lights to their lowest setting before turning to the women.

“Take off your blindfold, Amanda.”

She complied and tossed her hair, cutting him a come-hither smirk with her swollen lips before unbuckling Maisie’s ankles while Malcolm worked on the wrist cuffs.

“Thank you, sir,” Maisie whispered when she was free, turning her back on Malcolm before slipping off her mask.

Malcolm held out his hand to help Amanda to her feet.

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