Free Room at the Edge by Jane Davitt, Alexa Snow

spoken than he regretted them. Fuck. Not again. Liam was going to think he was topping from the bottom or acting out. And he wasn’t. He just craved the simplicity of a hard, ruthless whipping from a man who knew how to make him scream. Pain without guilt.
    “At some point between tonight and the next time I see you, Jay, you can find a dictionary and write out the definition of sadist for me. A hundred times, handwritten, of course, and done neatly, please.”
    He swallowed. That was something Austin would love doing, sinking deeper into sub space with every line, but for Jay it would be tedious in the extreme. “Yes, Sir.”
    The crop came back to tease him, the stiff length of it sawing between his legs, chafing his balls. “I’d be surprised if you make it to forty,” Liam said into Jay’s ear, the soft puff of his breath in stark contrast to the iciness of his words. “I’ve always held back using this, even on you, but tonight you’ll get to find out just how hard I can hit.”
    “Please…oh God, Sir, please.” He was begging before they’d started, shame at his rebuke pushing him into a place where he wanted to abase himself. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean… Gag me. Don’t let me say anything else—”
    “But I want to hear you scream, Jay.” The tip of the crop smacked against Jay’s balls, a tap, no more than that, but he cried out, acutely aware of how much damage a much harder strike could’ve caused.
    “It’s a start,” Liam said.
    The first real smack of the crop against Jay’s ass was swift, and the only way he knew it was coming was because of the sound it made slicing through the air. It was a hard blow—not the hardest Liam had ever given him, but hard enough that it was a shock.
    “That’s only one.” Liam slapped him with the flat of his hand across the same spot the crop had struck, then rubbed his ass roughly. “Thirty-nine to go, Jay. I have to admit I’m curious to find out if you can take it.”
    Jay swallowed and waited.
    He didn’t have to wait long, and the next half dozen strokes came quickly, without more than a few seconds’ pause between them. He knew Liam would expect him to keep track of the number, so he did. The pain was sharp and long-lasting, the effect from one blow not fading before the next struck home. It felt like being cut with a knife. Although he knew from previous experience that it wouldn’t look as bad as it felt, he also knew that it was going to hurt for days. Sitting would be a challenge. Every time he did, he’d remember this moment, that Liam had hurt him because he wanted it.
    “Seven,” he gasped when Liam stopped and rubbed his ass again. His skin felt raw already, and there were still thirty-three to go.
    Liam said, “Austin,” and a moment later Liam’s hand was back on Jay’s ass, this time pushing two slick fingers inside him. It was unexpected enough that Jay gasped, but that didn’t stop him from pushing back to take Liam’s fingers deeper. “Greedy boy.”
    “Yes, Sir. Please.”
    “I’ll give you what I want to when I want to,” Liam said, adding a third finger that stretched Jay wide.
    His thighs trembled, and he was glad for the support of the chair underneath him. “Yes, Sir,” he whispered. “I’m yours.”
    “You are. Both of you.” Liam’s fingers twisted inside him, driving deeper. “I’m a lucky man. You think I’m hard on you and I am, but I don’t do anything to you that you don’t allow, and I try to make it what you need.” He crooked his middle finger, and Jay moaned, shameless, appreciative, enjoying the stab of arousal piercing him. “It’s never occurred to you that I’m yours just as much, I suppose? No?”
    “We want you to be,” Jay said, honest in the depth of his need. It was what Austin would’ve said if he’d been allowed to talk, but it was true for Jay as well. “We’re stronger together—” His final word ended with another moan as Liam worked his fingers in and out.