Free Room at the Edge by Jane Davitt, Alexa Snow Page A

The stretch felt amazing, but Jay was greedy when it came to Liam. “Sir, need more. Please.”
    “I’ll fist you soon,” Liam said casually. “Not tonight.” He pulled his fingers out slowly so that Jay felt the loss of each inch as his body tried to clamp down and keep them inside him. “When I do that, I like to take my time. The prep work is part of the experience. I enjoy it.”
    The implication that Liam had done it before, to someone else, had Jay hissing out an outraged breath. Behind him, he heard Austin stir and murmur a similar protest.
    Liam chuckled and patted Jay’s ass with his dry hand. He’d use a wipe on his other hand before letting it touch their skin, Jay knew. Liam wasn’t fastidious exactly, but he tidied up as he went along. “Oh no. You don’t get to be jealous. Not when I’ve just told you how much you both mean to me. I’ve never fallen in love with a sub before, never wanted to, but you two didn’t give me any choice.”
    Jay couldn’t remember Liam telling them so easily that he loved them before. He held on to that as the crop struck him again, Liam dealing out ten hard strokes in quick succession.
    In the videos he’d watched online, he’d seen lines of fuel igniting on skin, a blue flame flickering to life in a flash. The crop was leaving fire buried under his skin, dark lines of red, a hot, searing burn, but much though he loved the bruising heat, he still wanted to feel those transient blue flames dance over his skin.
    “Another break, I think.”
    Jay shook his head, but his chest was heaving as he fought for breath, and he knew Liam wasn’t being kind. The pause let Jay feel the pain in a way he couldn’t when it was continually changing. It grew and spread, wild and savage, ripping at his self-control and leaving it in shreds.
    “Touch him, Austin. Feel how hot his skin is. Run your fingers over the welts.”
    Austin’s hand touched him a moment later, gentle and so cool that Jay pushed back against it to soothe the burn. He could almost pretend that it was a real burn blistering his skin. Austin’s fingertips moved away, then back again. He was probably afraid of hurting Jay. No need; his careful touch didn’t increase the pain even slightly.
    “You know how much he likes this, don’t you?” Liam said. “You’ve seen him beg for it often enough.”
    One of Austin’s fingertips traced over a slash mark. “Yes, Sir,” Austin said.
    Liam smacked the bottom of Jay’s right foot with the crop, and Jay twitched, couldn’t help it, even though the blow hadn’t been hard enough to hurt. “How many is that, Jay?”
    “Seventeen, Sir.”
    “Not even halfway,” Liam mused.
    “I can take it, Sir.”
    “Really?”
    The crop struck the back of his thigh, claiming another part of his body. Liam left five strokes on each thigh, the final one on each leg high up, along the crease where thigh met ass.
    Jay was sobbing now, the tears soaking his blindfold. He held still for each stroke because Liam told him to, but after a stroke had landed, he had to move, as if shaking his ass would dislodge the building pain. He’d never understood how he could crave the pain, love it, and yet still fight it like this.
    “Stop fighting it. Stop fighting me,” Liam said, lifting Jay’s long hair away from his neck for a moment, allowing him to feel a breath of cooler air on his hot skin. “I’m not punishing you, Jay. I’m whipping you. There’s a difference.”
    Jay knew that. Liam had taught him that lesson early on.
    “He’s doing well, though, isn’t he, Austin?”
    “Yes, Sir.” The pride in Austin’s voice was unmistakable.
    “Thirteen more. Where should I put the next three, Austin? The last ten are going on his arse, but that leaves three to play with.”
    Jay could practically hear Austin’s brain working. He knew exactly how torn Austin would be over something like this—wanting to give Jay what he wanted, but at the same time not wanting to be the cause