She cried out, although he doubted it had hurt much. Damon had barely put any force into his swing. He continued, applying light slaps of the animal hide down the side of her waist, over her flank, to her outer thigh. With each swing, Eslyn gasped and wiggled, making a delightful presentation. Her breasts bounced, lush ass rubbing against the bulge of his cock through his pants.
Damon repeated the action on the other side as Laake circled around behind her.
Granit drew her wrists down and held them, still locked together in his large hand, at her belly, using his other hand to push her torso forward. She folded over the support of his arm. He stepped to the side to make room for Laake, who shot him a wild-eyed glance—half-nervous, half-thrilled.
He gave Laake a nod of encouragement.
“Pry her cheeks apart,” Damon instructed.
Laake used the fingers of one hand to se
parate her cheeks. Her anus squeezed and tightened and her trembling increased, but interestingly, so did the scent of her arousal.
“Go slowly with the plug. Just the tip to begin, then ease it in. If you go too fast, you could hurt her.”
Eslyn mewled when Laake pushed the rounded tip of the plug against her back pucker. Laake lifted his gaze in question to Damon, who merely smiled. He grasped Eslyn’s head around the ears and lifted her face to his. “Take it, little flower. This is your punishment.”
Something in his words must have caused her surrender because the plug suddenly slid forward two finger widths, slowing at the widest part of the object.
Laake repeated Damon’s words. “Take it.”
She did. Her anus yawned wide and the plug slid in, seating deep inside her, leaving only the handle peeking between her delectable ass cheeks.
“Good,” Damon said. “Now hold her arms up again. I’m going to enjoy smarting her skin with this little lash.”
Eslyn gave a pitiful whimper, but didn’t fight Granit as he lifted her wrists up over her head. She made the most erotic picture he’d ever seen, legs spread wide, arms cinched high, a gleaming metal knob nested in her ass.
Her nipples dripped milk—the sweetest he’d ever tasted—and her cheeks were flushed a rosy shade of violet.
Everywhere Damon whipped her left a rosy stain on her peach-purple skin. He swung the strap again, catching the side of one breast.
She shrieked in fear, dancing away.
Damon chuckled.
“Is that fair?” Laake asked. “I mean, she has to feed the baby with those.”
“Then she’ll think of me each time she does,” Damon promised, delivering another light slap to the same breast.
“Ah… ah,” she gurgled, panting.
Damon ran the backs of his fingers over her cheek. “Shh, little flower. It stings a little, but it won’t cause any lasting harm. You know that, right?”
She seemed to work to control her breath and nodded.
Damon smiled. “Good girl.” He slid his hands down her sides and crouched between her feet. He brought two fingers to the apex of her thighs and rubbed them in her juices. “She’s so wet.”
Granit growled, because Damon had kept him from touching her there earlier.
His brother immediately understood. “You try,” he offered.
Veck.
His head swam with a fresh surge of lust. Holding her wrists with one hand, he coasted the other lightly down her body, molding it to her breast, down her belly, finally hooking between her legs.
A needy sound came from her lips. She rose up on her toes when he made contact and it nearly cost him his control. He wanted to shove her to her hands and knees and veck her until tomorrow. No—until next week.
But punishment first. They’d all have to endure the torture of waiting just a little longer.