Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 102578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
That picture deserved a companion.
“I need this to be over,” Tate rasped. “I hurt so fucking much, Master.”
Exchanging a look with Macklin, I took his place and squatted down in front of my boy.
He planted his hands on his thighs to support his weight.
“You can always safeword, baby.”
He shook his head. “Fuck no.”
“Then you know the rules.” I pushed back his hair and cupped his cheek. “Or Colt will continue.”
I felt Tate’s jaw tick under my touch.
“How many minutes do I have left?” he gritted out.
I glanced up at Colt.
He checked his watch. “Six minutes and forty seconds. I think I’m gonna try a vampire paddle next. That’ll be fun, won’t it?”
I saw immediately what he was doing, and I mouthed a thank-you.
“Oh my God, I can’t.” Tate cracked and began crying harder. “I can’t. I quit. Sadists rule. Without Sadists, we’d be miserable or whatever.”
I laughed silently at the same time as my heart went out to him. It was no fucking picnic to push a sub who felt so much better once he’d discovered how far he could actually go. With pain, you truly learned your limits. And Tate hadn’t been lying. He wasn’t a pain-slut. But he loved the day after. He loved the absolute calm he got from heavy play like this. He loved what it did to our relationship and the effects of our aftercare. Tomorrow was going to be a wonderful day.
“I think you can give me one more thing, little one.” Colt smiled slightly and helped Tate to a stand.
I straightened as well.
Tate wiped at his cheeks and winced at something. It could be anything. He was definitely suffering.
“Thank you for going through all the trouble to plan bullshit like tonight’s torture,” he mumbled.
I smiled. It was as good as it was going to get.
Colt chuckled and pressed a kiss to Tate’s forehead. “I’ll take it. You did really good tonight, kid.” He inched back and lifted Tate’s chin. “You text me tomorrow if you experience a drop from anything I put you through, you hear me? I’ll check in with your Owner too.”
“Yes, Sir.” Tate nodded and slipped his hand into mine.
I hugged him to me, making sure I didn’t come close to his back, and shook hands with Colt.
“We’ll talk to you tomorrow,” I echoed. “Thanks for everything.”
“Hey, right back atcha. Thanks to you, Kit wants to explore wrestlefucks.”
“Happy I could help,” I chuckled. “He’s a lot stronger than I anticipated.”
Colt lit up like the proud Daddy he was.
Tate took an automatic step toward the water, perhaps to wash off or cool down his abused flesh, but I had a better idea. The beating might be over—the event was over for him—but now he needed a space where he could let go. It’d been an insane roller coaster of a day, and my number one priority right now was to make sure he got the mental and emotional release his body demanded.
Every Top in the quarry knew what was left at the end of Greer’s station, so I assumed we’d get some traffic up the hill. In the lot where we’d parked the trucks and the vans, we had made preparations for aftercare, snacks, and comfort.
“I can’t stop crying,” he wept.
“You’re not supposed to, love.” I guided him up a ledge, then along the rocky path toward the meetup point. “What do you say we head home instead of spending the night at the house?”
He sniffled and nodded. “I wanna be home. I’m so tired.”
“Then we’ll go home.” I only needed to keep him awake until we got back to the house where our truck waited. Then he could fall asleep on the way. “Tomorrow, we’re doing a Netflix marathon and your favorite dinner. We’ll bring the sheets and pillows to the couch, and that’s where we’re spending the whole day.”
“Oh,” he whimpered. “I really want that, Master.”
My poor boy. I kissed the side of his head.
Either Tate didn’t notice the others, or he was too smack-dab in the middle of letting go to care. I ushered him to the van in the far back of the makeshift parking lot, where I opened the passenger’s side door.
“Just stand there, pet.” The van blocked the view to the other Tops comforting their brats, and it was the best we could get right now.
I unzipped the extra bag I’d brought. Six bottles of water, four towels. They came first. With that ready, I helped Tate out of his clothes. All of them. My boy wanted to get clean directly following an event. He could get down and dirty like the rest of us; he loved going camping, fishing—all that. He clearly loved messy play. But as soon as it was over, the mess had to go.
“I’m naked,” he cried.
“I can see that.” I did my best to stifle my amusement. But good Christ, he was fucking precious in these moments. “And you know what? Master loves seeing his boy naked.” I brought two water bottles to him and trapped one between my knees. “Can you bend over for me? We’re gonna get the mud out of your hair.”