“Oh fuck,” Jace cried as his body exceeded the pinnacle of rapture and his orgasm exploded, cum erupting deep inside her body. His fingers dug into her ass to hold her still as his final thrust buried his cock to the hilt and he filled her with vigorous pulses of his seed. The stinging lashes against his back intensified, sending him into a mindless state of euphoria far more intense than an ordinary orgasm. He wasn’t sure when Fire stopped striking him or when Aggie shifted position so that her feet were on the floor and she was holding him in her arms, his chest pressed tightly to the soft mounds of her breasts. He’d been so caught up in whatever the hell that had been that he wasn’t even sure if Aggie had come.
“Shit, Ice,” Fire said somewhere behind him, drawing him partially out of the peace of his reverie. “No wonder you love the guy. He fucks like a maniac. Jesus, how many times did he make you come?”
Aggie’s arms tightened around him, and she chuckled. “A few,” she said.
Thank God. He’d hate to think that he’d been the only one to derive pleasure from that mind-blowing session.
“He is amazing in bed,” Aggie continued dreamily, “but that’s not why I love him. I love him because he feels emotions more deeply than any man I’ve ever known, and he accepts all that I am—good and bad—and doesn’t want to change me or erase my past. I can be myself with him.”
Who in their right mind would want to change a perfect woman or prevent her from being her wonderful self? He’d tell Aggie that later, when they were alone. Now that he wasn’t delirious with lust, with pleasure, with pain, he was acutely aware of the strange woman standing behind him.
“You better marry the guy before someone comes along and steals him from you,” Fire said.
“Is that a threat, Starr?” Aggie murmured.
“An observation.”
Aggie leaned away slightly and cupped Jace’s face between her hands. His entire body was aching, throbbing, stinging from the orchestrations of their punishments, but he was most conscious of the gentle press of her fingertips to his cheeks.
“Anyone who tries is going to have one hell of a fight on her hands. This man is mine.”
Even though Starr was still observing them, he couldn’t resist kissing Aggie deeply. Sometimes it was easier to show her how he felt rather than say it. He’d marry her tomorrow if she’d allow it. She kept telling him they’d know when the time was right—that a marriage license was just a piece of paper and it didn’t mean anything—but being able to call her his wife meant the world to him. He just wasn’t sure how to let her know that. He deepened the kiss and pulled her closer, needing her to experience the depth of his devotion. Her arms shifted so she could wrap them around his back, and she stroked the marked flesh with just enough pressure to bring back memories of the delicious blows he’d experienced only moments before. He sucked a breath through his teeth when the less pleasant sting of salt in an open wound interrupted his pleasure.
Aggie straightened abruptly and stared at her fingertips over his shoulder.
“Blood?” she growled, her gaze lifting to Starr. “You made him bleed?”
“Just a little,” Starr said.
“I told you that was a hard boundary,” Aggie said. “No blood.”
“That’s your hard boundary,” Jace said. “Not mine.”
In his past, he’d bled plenty of times after a session, but Aggie had only drawn blood on him once, and it had rattled her so completely that she’d dropped her guard and allowed him close enough to make love to her. He wondered if that was why she was so inconsolably pissed that Starr had made him bleed.
“I wasn’t trying to make him bleed,” Starr said. “I just got a little carried away when he was coming. I’ve never seen a guy come that hard and in my line of work, I’ve seen a fair share of male orgasms.”
“Aggie, it’s really okay,” Jace said quietly.
“I disagree,” she said, glaring at Starr over his shoulder. “But it’s too late to prevent it now. Let’s go clean you up so you don’t get an infection.”
Good idea. He hated hospitals, and trying to explain to a medical professional how his whip lashes had gotten infected might be a bit embarrassing.
Chapter Two
Aggie winced as she eased Jace’s hips back and his soft cock slipped from her body. She was going to be walking funny for days after being fucked so vigorously. It had been entirely worth it, and she knew how worked up he got when taking his pain with pleasure, but apparently watching her bring another domme to her knees with a whip-induced orgasm had taken him beyond even that. She grinned to herself and reached for a towel to catch the cum trickling down the inside of her thigh. Jace had released one hell of a load inside her, and she didn’t want to get it all over her leather boots.
He flushed as he looked down and realized what she was doing. If they’d been alone, it wouldn’t have bothered him, but they still had an audience, and she was sure that now that he’d regained his senses, he’d struggle with that.
“Put your pants on,” Aggie demanded of him in her most authoritative Mistress V voice. “I don’t want to have to look at your cock unless it’s hard and ready to fuck me again.”
She noted the look of relief on his handsome face as he obeyed her by doing exactly what he wanted to do. Starr seemed impressed by his sudden willingness to obey, but Aggie knew that he wouldn’t have put his pants on unless he wanted to. The women ogled his perfect ass as he slipped into his jeans. They sighed in unison and then laughed when they realized what they were doing. Jace glanced at them over his shoulder as he fastened his fly. Aggie winked at him and approached to take a closer look at the crisscrossed welts on his back. Several of them were close to bleeding; she could see tiny beads of blood just under the skin. Only one lash had actually breached the surface. It was far less serious than when he’d made her lose her head during their first session. Starr’d had more restraint than she’d had. Of course Starr had had warning about the way he took his punishment and Aggie had gone in blind. That was still no excuse for drawing blood, Aggie chastised herself for the thousandth time. She’d promised him—and herself—that she’d never draw blood on him again.