Chapter 26
Chapter
Twenty-Six
EVIE
Good girl. The words pinged around her brain like pinballs. She so wanted to be his good girl, to atone for thinking so badly of him and have the slate wiped clean.
“This is not going to be an erotic spanking, Evie. It’s going to be a proper punishment spanking. But you can say stop at any time, and I will do so. Shepherd and Asher will make sure of it. Do you understand?”
Evie swallowed and nodded.
“I need to hear your words, Evie.”
“I understand.” The words came out hoarse, but she meant them. She’d done him a serious disservice and needed to make it up to him, as much for herself as for Gabe.
“Okay then. Up you get.”
Asher and Shepherd helped her up and maneuvered her so she was lying over the stool. Her legs quivered and her stomach knotted, but she wasn’t afraid.
Two sets of hands gripped her hips, positioning her how they wanted.
The cool air kissed her overheated skin, and she was acutely aware of how exposed she was—bottom raised, legs spread slightly for balance, everything on display for the three men who surrounded her. The position left her completely open.
"Ten strokes," Gabe said from somewhere behind her. "Count them out loud. If you lose count, we start over."
Evie's fingers curled around the edge of the stool, gripping tight. Her pulse thundered in her ears, drowning out everything except the sound of her own ragged breathing.
The first crack of leather against her already tender flesh stole the air from her lungs. Fire bloomed across her backside, so different from the sting of hands. This was sharper, more intense, the burn radiating outward in waves that made her toes curl.
"One," she gasped, the word barely audible.
Another stroke landed, precisely parallel to the first. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, not from pain alone but from the overwhelming emotion of it all. The shame of doubting them. The relief of being forgiven. The strange comfort of accepting consequences.
"Two."
The third stroke fell lower, catching the sensitive spot where her bottom met her thighs. Evie cried out, her body jerking forward before gentle hands - Shepherd's, she thought - steadied her.
"Three." Her voice cracked on the number.
Between each stroke, there was a pause. Long enough for the burn to settle deep into her flesh and for her breathing to even out just slightly before the next one came. Gabe wasn't rushing this. He wanted her to feel every single stroke, to understand the weight of what she'd done.
The fourth landed with a sharp crack that echoed in the small back room. Evie squeezed her eyes shut, tears finally spilling over onto her cheeks.
"Four."
She'd doubted him. She thought of the worst of this incredible man who'd shown her nothing but care and devotion. She demeaned what the four of them shared, even though all they’d ever done was make her feel cherished and wanted and seen for the first time in her adult life.
And she'd let that poisonous woman plant seeds of insecurity that had taken root far too easily in the damaged soil of her self-worth.
The fifth stroke made her gasp, her fingers tightening on the stool until her knuckles went white.
"Five."
The belt cracked down again, and this time Evie couldn't hold back the sob that tore from her throat. The pain was exquisite, searing, and somehow exactly what she needed. Each stroke carved away a layer of doubt, burning away the poison Victoria had dripped into her ear.
"Six."
Over halfway there. She could do this. She wanted to do this.
Someone's hand - Asher's, she realized, because she could see the ridiculous reindeer-patterned socks he still insisted on wearing in her peripheral vision - stroked her hair back from her damp face. The gentle touch was a stark contrast to the punishment, and it made her cry harder.
The seventh stroke landed with perfect precision across the center of her bottom.
The sound that escaped her was part wail, part moan, because underneath the burn, underneath the sting, arousal still coiled tight in her belly.
Her body didn't seem to understand the difference between punishment and pleasure, or maybe it just didn't care.
"Seven." The word came out strangled.
"You're doing so well, baby girl." Gabe's voice was rough, strained. "Just three more."
Three more. Three more strokes to strip away the last of her doubts, to burn them out completely and leave only certainty in their wake.
The eighth stroke caught her unprepared, landing diagonal across the others, and Evie's whole body jerked. The cry that tore from her throat was raw, primal.
"Eight," she sobbed.
Her bottom felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending screaming.
The heat radiated through her entire lower body, and yet, god help her, she was achingly, embarrassingly wet.
She could feel it, the slickness coating her inner thighs, the way her body clenched and pulsed with need despite the pain. Or maybe because of it.
Asher's fingers continued their gentle stroking through her hair, grounding her. "Almost there, sugarplum. You're being so brave."
The ninth stroke landed, and Evie's vision whited out for a moment. The pain peaked, crested, and somewhere in the midst of it, something inside her broke open. All the fear, all the insecurity, all the poison Victoria had poured into her ear - it shattered like glass.
"Nine!" The word came out as a wail. Her thighs trembled with the effort of staying in position. Sweat beaded at her temples and between her breasts.
She felt Gabe shift behind her, taking his time before delivering the final stroke. The anticipation was almost worse than the pain itself. Her entire body was taut as a bowstring, waiting.
When it came, the tenth stroke blazed across her skin like lightning. Evie's back arched as she screamed out the final number.
"Ten!"
For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of her ragged breathing and the pounding of her heartbeat in her ears. Then Gabe's hands were on her, soothing over her flaming skin with gentle strokes.
"All done, baby girl. It's over. You did so well."
Evie couldn't stop the tears flowing down her cheeks, but they weren't tears of pain. They were tears of release, of absolution. The burden of doubt she'd been carrying had been lifted, burned away by each lash of the belt.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice raw. "I'm so sorry I doubted you."
Strong hands helped her to stand, and she found herself enveloped in Gabe's arms, his lips pressing against her temple. "It's done. Forgiven. Forgotten."
Her legs were trembling too much to support her, so when he lifted her, she went willingly, wrapping her arms around his neck. The movement sent fresh waves of fire across her bottom, making her gasp against his skin.
"Let's take her upstairs," Shepherd said, his voice gruff with emotion.
Evie felt herself being carried through the back hallway that joined their two shops and up the stairs to Shepherd’s apartment.
The smell of leather and coffee, so distinctly Shepherd, enveloped Evie and made her heart clench as Gabe carried her through the doorway. Her backside throbbed with exquisite pain, each pulse a reminder of her punishment and absolution.
He laid her gently on the bed; the cool sheets were a balm against her heated skin, though she hissed when the fabric brushed against her tender flesh.
"Shhh," Asher soothed, his fingers trailing through her hair. "Let us take care of you now, sugarplum."
Evie turned her head to see the three men standing beside the bed, their intense expressions a mixture of scrutiny, desire, and something deeper that made her throat tight with emotion.
Shepherd was already pulling his shirt over his head, revealing the broad expanse of his chest with its dusting of dark hair.
Gabe had removed his tie and was unbuttoning his shirt with deliberate slowness, his eyes never leaving hers.
And Asher - sweet, playful Asher - was already down to his boxer briefs, his lean body practically vibrating with barely contained energy.
“I’m going to fuck this naughty little bottom to remind you who you belong to,” Gabe growled as Asher crawled onto the bed, stroking his erection, and Shepherd helped Evie straddle him.
"Sweet crumbling croissants," Evie gasped, her eyes widening as his meaning registered. They’d messed around a little since the night they’d all come together, but they hadn’t reprised their foursome.
With Ollie and her parents back at home, they’d needed to be more circumspect.
Now Evie realized just how much she needed them.
Needed this. It was like an affirmation.
Gabe's words sent a jolt of electricity through her entire body, making her already sensitized skin tingle with anticipation. The deep timbre of his voice, the possessive glint in his eyes – it was all too much and not enough at the same time.
She loved it.
She loved them.