Chapter Eleven
“All hail the conquering heroes,” Luther crowed as they entered Sprawl. “I’m surprised you four remembered to come back and pick up your shit, considering.”
Mack jammed his hands in his coat pockets, reminding himself there was no way he could know what he did with Ramsay the night before. How could the bar owner be so chipper this early? He felt hung over, even though he’d only had the two drinks, and he still ached deep inside. They hadn’t slept much, either. Eventually they’d tucked the girls into bed and cuddled up behind them. Trying to squish all four of them into the queen-size bed wasn’t comfortable, but they hadn’t had long to sleep, anyway.
“The guy jumping the stage was a little disturbing, Luther, but it wasn’t exactly traumatic enough to keep us from picking up our equipment.”
Law frowned and shook his head. “What? Not that. Haven’t you guys been online today?”
“We were up late.” Ramsay replied.
Mack bit his lip, trying not to laugh. They’d been up, all right. Then he’d fallen asleep on the couch with his head in Ramsay’s lap, not that he figured the guys would want to hear that.
“Sweet! Check this out.” Luther went to the bar and grabbed the open laptop there and brought it over to them. He brought up YouTube and there was a still screen of them on stage, Saya’s red cape front and center. Luther hit play and the last number they’d performed began.
Someone had put them on YouTube? They looked pretty good up there, considering they were new. Knowing Saya, Mack could see the small ways that bellydance influenced the way she moved across the stage, commanding it in a fluid way, while he stayed mostly in the same area. At least he didn’t look like a dork. Winter was in the background, off to the side, looking cold and dangerous as she played the bass rhythm. Ramsay was like a force of nature, his drumming so dynamic that if the drums hadn’t partially shielded him from the crowd, he would have overshadowed all the rest of them.
The guy jumped onto the stage and Mack was surprised to see how obvious his anger was onscreen. He’d always thought he was subtle. But Saya was so sweet and helpless, that the thought of someone laying a hand on her like that made him ill.
Now if it was him, in a sexual context, he could get a boner just from thinking of how vocally demonstrative she was. Nothing like a screamer to get under his skin. Like candy. Winter was more like a Thanksgiving meal to him, as a sadist. She gave him so much, could take almost anything he could dream up, and turn it into lust. Between the two of them, he got the best of both. However, when it came to him, both girls had given him their consent. They had safewords. That douchecanoe deserved everything that’d happened to him in the parking lot, and more.
Mack glanced at Ramsay, but he was holding it together. At least he wasn’t going to get angry all over again. He wasn’t sure his ass could handle it. Even sitting had been an adventure for the past several hours. Compared to what Winter endured, he felt like a wimp. How she made it through a day all striped up and bruised still amazed him. She was tougher than most men he knew.
The punch he’d thrown at the guy looked impressive on video, and the guy had gone down hard. Fighting off bullies in the schoolyard when he’d been a kid had paid off.
When the video was done, Winter shrugged. “So someone put us on YouTube. Everyone and their screaming goat is on YouTube at this point.”
Law laughed. “Did you see the number of views? A hundred thousand people have watched this video since it went up a few hours ago.”
“That’s sick, Winter.” Luther’s eyes brightened. “I know most people are clicking on it to see Mack cold cock the fucktard that grabbed Little Red, but to get to that bit they’re listening to the song. Most of the comments are loving the music and asking about the band.”
“I’d like to bang that chick into next week?” Winter read aloud. “Although I appreciate the man’s taste, that’s hardly a ringing endorsement of our music.”
“We’ve already had several phone calls here asking about you guys. Most were people interested in hitting your next show, but there was a bar in New York that called us wanting to book you. Here’s the number.” Law handed Winter a scrap of paper and winked at her. Ramsay suddenly got taller and Mack realized he’d done the same.
Law looked back and forth between Ramsay and Mack. “Hey now, settle the fuck down. Winter’s my kind of girl, but I wouldn’t put the moves on her. You know... I’m not even sure who’s with who here.”
“It’s complicated. I’d need you to get me a flip chart and several colors of marker to explain it.” Winter smirked.
His brow puckered and he shrugged. “Whatever. None of my business. You guys need a website and you need to do some recording. It’s hard to capitalize on this with nothing in place. When you’re rich and famous you’d better play gigs here sometimes. If you never talk to us again, we’ll never forgive you.”
“If we never talk to you again, we won’t know that we’re not forgiven, so it’s all good.” Winter linked an arm with Saya then sauntered off into the green room.
“She’s so heartless.” Luther bit his knuckle and shook his head in exaggerated regret. “If you ever get tired of her, let us know. I’d gladly bow down before the Ice Queen.”
“You’re submissive?” Ramsay raised a brow.
“What? No. I’m just saying she’s hot. Why? Is she into that kinky shit?” His eyes were avid and he glanced at Law, then back to them. “I mean, I’ve tied a few girls up because they asked me to, but I really don’t get it. But man, Winter would look fucking sweet in leather.”
Seriously? He was right here! “Eyes back in your heads, guys. My decking hand is feeling twitchy.”
Lawson held up a staying hand. “No need to kill me, I’m just stating facts. You’re a lucky man, Mack. So do you guys share them, or what?”
“Do you seriously think they’re going to tell you, you nosy bastard?” Luther laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “Let the nice people get their stuff together.”
“Fiiine.” The two men walked behind the bar, bickering amicably, and started doing some sort of inventory, leaving them in peace.
“Do you think they’re seriously after Winter?” Ramsay asked, his tone uneasy. Apparently Mack wasn’t the only one who had noticed what a good match that appeared to be. Between Law, Luther and Winter, they had enough piercings to have paid Mal’s tattoo shop rent for a few months.
“Nah. I think they might be a little scared of her. Besides, they can’t give her what I do. She’d never settle for vanilla, and she’d definitely never want to go through training another sadist. You’re more concerned about their interest in Winter than you are stoked about the YouTube thing?”
Ramsay shrugged and punched Mack in the arm, the familiarity of the act warming Mack’s face, even though it was about as straight as a gesture could get. It wasn’t like he’d patted him on the ass. “YouTube isn’t exactly known for its impeccable taste in music. The last thing I want to is be a YouTube one-hit wonder. I hope it ends soon, but if we can get our foot in the door in some clubs in New York, it’ll be nice.”
“True.”
Ramsay had a point, but it was difficult to ignore the excitement that came with knowing that so many people had potentially seen them perform.
It wasn’t worth debating anyway, considering none of them had any control over it.
*
The tiny Middle Eastern restaurant didn’t look like much from the outside, but walking in was like stepping through a portal to another country. Rugs lined the floors, and leather ottomans surrounded low round tables. It was packed with people and unfamiliar-smelling food. Huge ceiling fans circled slowly, keeping the air moving. A riot of color occupied Mack’s artistic senses.
Wait staff brought them drinks, then a range of foods that Ramsay ordered came on huge platters for sharing. Mack didn’t care if he didn’t recognize the dishes – it smelled so good he scooped mouthfuls up with some flat bread and ate like he hadn’t seen real food in months. They’d been practicing so much lately that pizza had become the staple of their combined diets. He was pretty sick of it. If Saya hadn’t suggested that they do groceries together tomorrow, so that they could practice while still having decent food, he might have given up eating for Lent.
They’d been spending so much time together lately, the four of them, that being apart felt odd. They practiced, ate, fucked, hung out, and generally lived in each other’s pockets. Eventually it would settle down, he knew, and they’d go back to less togetherness. Ramsay’s nephew coming to visit was going to be a strain on the way they’d been living, but it was only for two weeks, at least.
Musicians had been playing quiet rhythms in the background, which blended with the cacophony of voices caught in the cloth draped ceilings and tin lanterns overhead. The music increased in tempo and volume, and Mack looked up expectantly.
“Don’t get too excited yet. With bellydance the intros tend to drag out for twenty minutes or so before the performers actually show up. It’s probably a good thing too, considering how wound up we got her when she was getting ready.” Ramsay put his legs out in front of him and stretched his arms over his head.
“Are you dancing tonight too, Ramsay?” Winter smirked. “You look like you’re about to jump out of your chair and start the action.”
“Whaaat?” he drawled. “I dance.”
“I’m talking bellydance.”
“I do actually know some Middle Eastern dance.”
“You must look adorable in the bra-top and hipscarf.”
He smiled nebulously. “You’ll see if she drags me up to dance. I’m nothing compared to her, though.”
Mack thought about the night before. If the way he fucked was any indication, Ramsay was probably pretty damned good at dancing. He opened his mouth to say as much to Winter, but then realized he wasn’t ready to discuss that just yet.
Three women swirled into the room, their jewel-colored veils fanning out behind them like the tails of tropical fish. At the next table a woman ululated, the noise reminding him of Xena the Warrior Princess’s battle cry, and people started to clap and yip.
Ramsay was in on the action and nudged them to participate. “You can’t just sit there and watch. It’s insulting. If you’re a yogurt audience, Saya will be upset.”
“Yogurt?” Winter asked.
“Yeah, sitting here silently, developing culture.”
Ramsay yipped, sounding like a dog whose tail had been stepped on. Mack grinned, watching Saya as she shimmied up to their table, circling it, dancing in front of them then moving off to work other parts of the room. When she danced, she was more graceful than he’d even imagined. He glanced at Winter to see what she thought, and she was gazing at Saya with naked desire. At that point there was no mistaking her for a straight girl.
Saya danced before them again, veiling her face, then pulling the cloth away so that it skimmed over her like a sheen of water. The angle of her head, the curve of arms, the sway of her hips – all spoke of a woman familiar with her own body and the movements with which she was communicating. Mack painted her, like this, in his mind, all fluidity and grace, soft lines and femininity. A facet of female beauty in all of its power.
Winter allowed Saya to take her hand and for a moment she danced for her alone. When Saya tried to draw her up to dance, Winter shook her head, her face blotched red. She danced to Ramsay next and coaxed him to his feet. Mack watched, bemused, as Ramsay began to dance, not bothering with momentary false modesty. Ramsay Park was about as cock sure as a man could get, even in this situation, apparently. His version of the dance spoke of virility and power, but he focused his energy on drawing more attention to Saya. The two of them dancing together caught the interest of most of the room, to the point where the other two dancers stopped trying to compete and stood to watch them, clapping with the music and ululating enthusiastically.
At the end of the song Ramsay collapsed back on his ottoman and waved Saya away when she tried to lure him onto the floor again. She grinned and moved off, going to areas of the room she hadn’t visited yet.
“I’ll never understand how she can keep it up for so long.” Ramsay shook his head and took a long drink from his glass. “Part of one song and I’m ready for a nap.”
Mack slapped him on the back. “It’s because you’re old.”
“Yes, that six months I’ve got on you has really taken its toll.”
“Pretty soon you’ll be wearing cardigans and slacks on stage. We’ll have to play matinees so you don’t nod off mid-set.”
Ramsay’s eyes narrowed. “If I need a nap today it’s because a disobedient little bitch was playing hard to get last night.”
Mack’s mouth fell open then shut again, his neck hot. He stared down at his glass, not knowing how to respond. Was this Ramsay’s version of flirting?
“If anyone was playing hard to get last night, it was you, Ramsay. Then you did a one-eighty and played hard to get rid of.” Winter wasn’t amused.
He sighed and rubbed his face with one hand, then glanced around to make sure no one was listening. “Mack and I talked things over last night. I know the way I was acting was confusing and mean, but this isn’t easy for me either. None of us meant for this to happen. All we can do now is work on figuring it out.”
“What’s to figure out? It is what it is. You two can have your side thing going on, that’s fine with me, but we need to make sure that it doesn’t break up the band. Mack and I have worked hard to build things up, and you and Saya are great, but we have to make sure that this weird thing we have going on isn’t going to fuck that up.”
“Aye, aye, captain.” Ramsay saluted her and she frowned.
“By the way, Mack and I are going home after this to spend some quality time together. None of your lightweight D/s bullshit.”
“You think that what you do is more meaningful than what Saya and I are into?”
She folded herself to sit cross-legged on the ottoman. “No, but the lack of violence bores me. I don’t get a high from following commands, like some people do. I need to suffer.”
The last word hung in the air like it had grown bee wings and was hovering overhead. It was true. It had been days since Mack had hurt her, and although he’d found release in messing around with Ramsay, she hadn’t gotten off since Ramsay had fucked her in the net. For her that was pretty much vanilla.
Mack hadn’t failed to meet her needs since he was a new sadist and they hadn’t known each other as well. Sure, Ramsay was a novelty, but that was no excuse. Winter was his choice every day. He needed to remind her of that, no matter how long they’d been together.
Ramsay didn’t seem to be put off by her abrasiveness, like most people generally were. Instead his face softened and he gave her a small smile. “I’d like to see what you do – what the two of you are into when you’re not with us.”
“Like a home video?” Winter asked sarcastically, brow raised.
“No, like an invitation to watch.”
Winter’s eyes narrowed. “Pervert.”
“You know it.”
She picked up the straw out of her glass and stuck the end in her mouth, then started to chew on it. Her gaze followed Saya as she moved to different parts of the room.
Mack didn’t say anything. This had to be her decision, since she was the one who’d be on display. The idea of Ramsay watching him work made Mack a bit nervous. Would he critique him? Did he know anything about sadism? What if he thought what they did was disturbing or disgusting?
“Well? Do you think you can handle it?” Ramsay prompted, alert and interested.
“Oh, I can handle your detour into voyeurism. I’m more worried that you’ll puke on the floor of our dungeon. That smell is always hard to wash out.”
“If I get scared, I’ll hide my eyes.”
Winter snorted and leaned on the table, eyeing Ramsay with disdain. “Does the sight of blood make you faint?”
“Only if it’s mine.”
Mack sighed. With these two in a pissing contest, they might be here all night.
“How about we let them in on a date night and they can decide if they can handle coming back again. We’ve given Ramsay the official disclaimer, let them make up their own minds.”
“We can always blindfold Saya if she gets scared.” Ramsay scooped up some hummus and jammed the flat bread into his mouth.
Winter seemed to consider that idea for a moment. “No. Blindfolding Saya will make me want to do something else, entirely.”
The drumming ceased and the room erupted into applause. Saya glided over, flushed and grinning.
“You dance beautifully.” Mack reached for her hand and squeezed it. The grace in her performance had given him so many new ideas for adding movement to his sketches that he regretted not bringing paper and pencil with him. “I never realized how involved bellydance was. I always thought of it as glorified exotic dance, but it’s really not the same at all.”
“No.” Saya laughed. “And I get to keep my clothes on, which I prefer.”
“That part is regrettable. The more you’re naked, the better, as far as I’m concerned.” Winter beckoned her over and Saya perched on her knee.
“Did you like watching me dance, even if I was wearing too much?” Saya asked Winter sassily.
The two of them were adorable together. Maybe Rime from his webcomic needed a girlfriend. And there was nothing like live models.
Winter brushed her fingers over Saya’s bare lower back and she shivered and straightened.
“I kept imagining dragging you off to find a green room, if there is one.”
“You wouldn’t!”
“I have and I will again.” Winter shrugged.
It was amazing how quickly Winter was taking to domming the girl. They looked natural together, like they’d been partners for years.
Ramsay fished a bottle of water out of the bag he’d been minding for her and handed it over. “The drummers were decent.”
“I prefer when you play for me. You know what I like.” She cracked open the bottle of water and chugged most of it down.
“Speaking of him knowing what you like, Ramsay has asked to do something pervy.” Winter frowned. “I’m not sure how you’ll feel about it.”
“Ooh! What’s he wanna do?” Saya wiggled on Winter’s knee for a moment then glanced around. The people at the nearest table couldn’t hear them over the general din, but they could see everything the two girls were doing – one of the men stared at them, looking like he needed a napkin to sponge up his drool.
“He wants Mack to torture me while you two watch.”
Saya bit her lip. “Do I get a safeword?”
“He won’t be laying a finger on you.”
“But what if I want him to stop what he’s doing? What if I hate him for hurting you?” She wrapped her arms around Winter’s neck and kissed her cheek. “I don’t know if I can handle it.”
“I have a safeword, if I need it. You won’t be able to watch, even knowing I’m enjoying myself?”
“Well...I can try. If worse comes to worse I could always go upstairs and watch TV or something.”
“True.”
Mack grinned at Saya, his smile probably looking as creepy as it felt. “Just make sure to crank the volume. I plan to make her loud.”
*
The premeditation involved in getting Winter to undress for them immobilized her. They all stood uncomfortably in the middle of the basement, making jokes about how awkward it seemed when it wasn’t heat of the moment.
“Here, does this help?” Mack stripped off his shirt. Ramsay did the same.
“No. Now it feels a little weirder.”
“Strip, princess.” Ramsay snapped his fingers at his woman and she reluctantly started to disrobe.
“This isn’t fair,” Saya grumbled. “I thought we were supposed to watch, not be watched.”
“Pardon me?”
“Um... This isn’t fair, Master?”
Despite her complaints, Saya complied, stripping down to her panties. She looked at Ramsay expectantly and he nodded. “Yes, you can leave those on for now.”
Saya’s luscious curves drew Mack’s eye. His gaze travelled along her body, happy to dwell on her full breasts with their hardened tips before moving on to her belly and hips. Saya ducked her head when she realized they were all staring at her.
Mack had cranked the heat in the room, but the air was still chilly. Saya shivered and Ramsay wrapped his heavily muscled arms around her. They kissed, which soon turned into Ramsay carrying her over to the mattress and laying her flat. He ordered her to stay still and he ran his hands over her skin as her breathing became slow, heavy, hypnotic.
“They’ve forgotten all about us.” Mack winked. He pulled Winter close and ran his fingers through the back of her hair, then kissed her deeply. She melted into him as though he’d pulled the plug out of a drain.
Winter was always watching, wary. It was her nature to be suspicious and think that people were trying to fuck her over. After their first few months together, he’d deduced that had to do with surviving in her big, backstabbing family. When they’d met she hadn’t realized that not every family was like that. He was one of the only people she really trusted, although he knew Saya was slowly worming her way into that inner circle.
Between kisses, Mack undressed her. He inhaled her scent, her warmth, slid his palms over the smoothness of her skin. The piercings he’d done on her nipples had healed and he flicked them, making her shudder. Her willowy, pale nakedness, flawless and waiting for his marks, brought a heady excitement. She was so very small and vulnerable under her fuck-you armor. Knowing that she would let him hurt her in a million depraved ways gave him the kind of exhilaration that could turn a normal man into a monster. With him, it had done just that.
Memories of her pain echoed silently in the room. Screams that he’d drawn from her unwilling lips, the smell and taste of her blood. It was nothing anyone else could hear or see, but to him it lay over the current reality like a filter that reminded him of what had come before.
He led her to the saltire he’d made last year, with the hinge on the back that made the padded X versatile. It was easy to secure her upright, lay her flat or turn her upside down. Today he cuffed her facing inward. He caught a flash of apprehension in her eyes and he chuckled quietly, which earned him a glare to smile back at.
“Are you nervous, Winter? Do you think you can trust me? You’re awfully stuck right now, and I’m not a very nice man.”
“Your wacko head games won’t work on me, Mack.”
Brave words. Under her bravado, he knew there was still a vulnerable girl who sometimes wondered whether this would be the time he would ignore her safeword. There had been times it’d been tempting to pretend he hadn’t heard it, when he hadn’t been done yet, but he loved her enough to stop when she said stop. Even when he was gorging himself on her screams and stopping was nearly impossible. They’d discussed it at length. She knew where he was weak, and knew how to snap him out of his zone when he started going too far. Sometimes the cruelty in his soul terrified him.
He went to the tool bench and loaded a tray with implements that struck his fancy. This time there was no hiding sharp things and avoiding needles. If Ramsay wanted to see what they did, choosing innocuous things defeated the purpose. Their guests had gone quiet on the mattress. A glance showed Saya sitting in Ramsay’s lap. He watched Mack while he stroked Saya in places that made her squirm.
For a moment, Mack’s gaze met Ramsay’s, and the latter nodded encouragement.
He walked back to Winter, perusing the implements he’d selected. Starting their guests out slow seemed like a good idea. A small flogger did the trick of warming her up, her skin twitching a little now and then when falls wrapped around to her ribs or a hip. There was a time when using the flogger on her had been a rush – he’d been so careful then. She’d proven, though, that she could take so much more.
Next he grabbed a tawse. It flicked out like the tongue of a giant lizard, leaving licks of pain in its wake. Her breathing got heavy and even, almost as if she slept, but he knew better. She was waiting for things to get more interesting.
He went to the wall and let his hand caress the assortment of canes that hung there. Winter had an obsession with canes and they’d gone from buying them online to making them out of anything that she could dream up. Mack could feel her eyes boring into his back, willing his hand one way or the other. She knew better than to ask for the one she was in the mood for, because he’d pick something else.
Today he picked one for each hand. Being ambidextrous left her guessing – which implement when, from what direction. One cane was thin and whippy, slicing the air with a chilling whizzing sound. The other was short and thick, more of a fish bat than a cane, really, but thuddy would make a good counterpoint to his first selection. Winter’s back and ass were mottled pink and red now, and the room had warmed up, either from the heater or his activity.
Tap .
“Ungh!” She fought the cuffs, a lovely red welt rising on the back of her thigh.
Tap, tap, tap . Three more over the curve of her luscious ass, the last reddening on either side and leaving a blue line in the middle. Nice.
The last blow made her squeal. Blood throbbed through his body and rushed to his cock. He changed the angle and left another line to bisect the most painful one, so that there was a blue X on her ass.
“Fucker! I fucking hate you!” she screamed.
A laugh rose from deep inside, adrenaline shooting through him. He got on his knees and bit her ass directly on the mark he’d made.
“Stop!” Her voice was plaintive now, less demanding.
He rose, swished the cane back and forth through the air, letting her hear it but not touching her. A minute passed and eventually she leaned back toward him, looking for more.
The fish bat to the ass twice made her suck in her breath and press against the cross in an attempt to get away. Thuddy wasn’t her favorite.
Mack tossed the bat aside, bored of it already, since it didn’t make her sing. He swung the cane, feeling it become an extension of his arm. Four strokes to the back of her thighs then he pulled the bolt that kept the cross upright and flipped the contraption so that she was upside down but on a slight angle so not all of her weight was on her ankles. She shrieked.
“Fuck! I hate that, Mack! Warn me next time!”
“No.”
He re-engaged the bolt so that she’d stay in that position then beat the insides of her thighs.
Each blow brought a scream that made his jeans more uncomfortable. He unzipped, stripped, walked to the side her head was turned to and jammed his cock into her mouth, choking her. As she gagged on him, he traced her wet slit with his finger. She mewled, the vibration on his dick driving him crazy.
When he withdrew, she gasped for air, drool bubbling from her mouth and probably leaking onto her face. He spread her labia with gentle fingers then flicked his tongue over her clit, which was hard to reach. She cried out in pleasure, so he bit down on the inside of her thigh, right over a bruising welt. Her scream was a thing of beauty. Thigh muscles strained, but she couldn’t protect herself from the onslaught of nips and bites that he inflicted on her thighs, ass and back.
When Winter started to sob and babble, he flipped the cross again so that it lay horizontal.
He slid on a pair of surgical gloves and covered her back, ass and thighs with antiseptic. A pack of sterile pins called to him, and he opened it, jabbing a few into the flesh of her ass. She squealed.
“No, no!” She tried to crawl away, but was caught fast.
“No? You don’t like this?” He threaded one through the skin of her back, then another, a third, four.
Moans filled the air, punctuated by unsteady breath.
“Please,” she whispered.
“Please more?” He grabbed the sterilized knife and ran it over her back, between pins, like a fiendish slalom. She shrieked. A small line of blood rose on her ass when he pressed harder. He eased up and moved the knife away, leaning in to taste her fear, smell her arousal. Copper in his mouth. His mind and body warred, one wanting to cut, the other to fuck.
She’d fallen silent under his hands, eyes glassy, mouth open. His body won. Uncuffing her, he then lowered her to her face on the concrete floor, pulled her hips up. He drove his cock into her wetness, grunting at how tight she was, how hot. Supporting her hips with one forearm, he pummeled into her, using her body to ease the ache she’d made inside him. One by one, he yanked out the pins, beads of blood adorning the white perfection of her back. He pulled off the gloves, clawing his fingers through the lot of them.
His woman screamed again, her cunt gripping around his cock, trying to steal the last vestiges of his humanity as she came. He lost control, pounding into her, the rough floor digging into his knees. His snarl was animalistic, ripped from his throat as his body discharged into hers. For a moment he couldn’t see and he wondered if he’d fucked himself blind. Exhausted, he collapsed onto his side, pulling her into the shelter of his arms. Breathing. She was breathing. He exhaled in relief.
Quiet stole over the room. The floor was cold, and eventually he convinced himself to get up and take Winter somewhere more comfortable. He coaxed her to her feet, picked her up, and carried her to the mattress. Ramsay pulled Saya closer and Mack laid Winter out on her stomach, then went to get alcohol. He cleaned the small punctures he’d made, and Winter mewled and shuddered under his hands.
As he worked, he glanced over at Ramsay, who watched the process with fascination. Saya was tucked into his chest and seemed to be asleep. Winter was subspacing and he knew better than to try to bring her out of it before she came out on her own.
“Was it my imagination or did she get off?”
“Oh, she got off.” Mack stroked the hair back from her forehead and kissed her there. Her eyes were open and staring – she seemed aware, but not interested in communicating just yet. “You two managed okay?”
Ramsay smirked. “I fucked Saya at some point and we both got off, but you were too busy to notice. As soon as you went further than the canes, she wouldn’t look.”
“Not my kink!” Saya blurted, her voice muffled by Ramsay’s chest.
Mack laughed quietly. He slid in beside Winter and held her tight. “Well, you wanted to see what we did when we were alone. That was a pretty good example.”
“I can’t imagine doing that every time. It’s too intense. Don’t you ever just have regular sex?”
“Sometimes, when we’re feeling lazy, but it’s probably not as much fun to watch.” He licked the back of Winter’s neck, sweat making her skin salty. “So what about you? Were you freaked out?”
Ramsay looked thoughtful. “Not especially. I watched your face, though. That was creepy. You, Mack, are one crazy motherfucker.”
Mack wasn’t insulted. It was only the truth.
Winter looked dreamily at Mack, her eyes slitted.
“Yes, he is a crazy motherfucker, and he’s all mine.”