“When it’s my turn, be very still, Cookie. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Isabel’s eyes fluttered open. “But I want you to hurt me, Sir.”
Oh, Isabel - always the masochist. Sawyer smiled and then grew serious. Only inches away from her face, he took her head into his large hands and held it securely. “That’s my decision alone to make. Understood?” Sawyer growled, low and deep.
Isabel’s eyes widened and she wet her lips. “Yes, Sir.”
“That’s a good girl. No more speaking unless it’s to cry out in pleasure in which case, scream all you want.”
Isabel nodded, her observant tawny eyes scanning his face.
Sawyer moved behind Isabel, loosening the strings of her corset slowly, teasing her with each of his movements and being mindful of where his fingertips touched her skin. When the fabric sagged revealing her pale back, he firmly pressed his fingers against her spine. He had always wondered what she tasted like so he licked her shoulder blade. Isabel’s body shuddered and the chains overhead jangled loudly.
Sawyer backed away reluctantly, wanting to taste more of her salty, perfumed skin. Luke moved into Sawyer’s spot. He was holding a much larger whip than the one they had practiced with and Sawyer’s queasiness returned.
“Are you ready, Little Dove?” Luke asked.
When Isabel nodded, he began stroking her back with the whip at a steady pace, reddening her apricot and milky white skin. The mass that had congregated gasped when Luke’s movements became more concentrated on the backs of her thighs and exposed ass. Several times, Sawyer had to focus on something other than the torture that Isabel was enduring. He would never understand how someone could delight in causing pain to something so fragile and delicate. He watched Dylan closely, waiting for the moment he would jump in and kick Luke’s teeth in for handling his wife in such a manner, but no such thing happened. Dylan did, however, watch Isabel very closely, never taking his eyes away from her as his eyes inspected her for signs of impending danger.
After several minutes, Luke motioned for Dylan to bring the smaller whip over to Sawyer, but he stayed close, ready to assist and guide his hand. Sawyer felt immediate relief seeing the smaller leather tool. Feeling restricted, Sawyer kicked off his shoes and stripped down to only his slacks and tank top. Before he began, he looked to Dylan for reassurance who nodded his approval.
Sawyer put distance between Isabel’s body and himself, and brought the whip up. She halted all movement and held her breath as the leather sliced across her back causing her to shriek out. He had angled his wrist too sharply creating more damage than he had intended.
“Fucking hell.” he grumbled under his breath and froze. He looked to Dylan who had a pained look on his face and Sawyer feared it would be his teeth kicked in for mishandling his wife rather than Luke’s.
“The error was in your wrist, my friend. Smooth movements only for now,” Luke stated calmly, placing his hand on Sawyer’s back in a placating gesture. “Become one with the whip; make it an extension of who you are.”
Sawyer had already heard as much from Dylan. He moved in front of Isabel to see tears streaming down her cheeks and a wave of nausea washed over him. Wanting to soothe her, he dropped the whip and gripped her face, kissing her ravenously and smothering her sobs. She gasped for breath as his tongue probed her mouth. When he stepped back, Isabel’s honey-colored eyes were wide and glassy with shock from his zealousness, but she was no longer crying. His plan had clearly worked in taking her mind off the pain he had inflicted, and he couldn’t resist smiling at the surprise on her face as he swept the tears from her cheeks.
“Feeling better?” he asked without letting on to the displeasure of his mistake.
Isabel nodded, her eyes flicking rapidly from his eyes to his mouth.
“Besides bright pink – what’s your color?”
Isabel sniffed and smiled sheepishly. “Green, Sir.”
He let out a deep sigh then dabbed the corners of her eyes with his thumbs before picking the whip back up. Looking over his shoulder at Dylan, he waited for another nod of approval to continue. When Dylan gave it, Sawyer looked back to Isabel. He had to hear from her own mouth that she was okay with everything that was taking place.
“Do you want me?” he asked, holding the end of the whip in one hand and the handle in the other as he wrapped it around her waist to pull her close. Isabel’s eyes darted toward Dylan and Sawyer adjusted his stance, blocking her view.
“I want whatever my Master tells me to want,” she whispered.
“I understand and you’re a good girl for wanting that. But I have to know right now Isabel that this is what you want.”
Sawyer tugged the leather, making Isabel gasp out as their mouths brushed against one another. Her fluttering breaths panted out rapidly, the warm moistness touching Sawyer’s mouth, the scent a combination of mint, fear and arousal. Her eyebrows pinched together as if she was fighting her own inner battle, her almond-shaped eyes roaming over his face and pleading for something. Stiffly, she nodded.
“I need to hear you say it, Cookie,” his voice was deep, calm, his penetrating gaze unwavering.
Suppressing a groan, Isabel’s eyes concentrated on his mouth. “Yes, Sawyer, Sir, I want this.” Softer and more fragile than before, she answered, “I want you,” her cheeks blushing from the guilt of her admission. After she spoke the words, her eyes averted to the floor.
Sawyer looked over his shoulder and motioned for Dylan to come over and reassure her.
Moving next to Sawyer, both he and Dylan ran their hands along her body; Dylan’s on her face, running his index finger down her cheek and across her full, pouted lips and then her chin, guiding her to look at him. Sawyer released the whip from one hand, the leather falling to the floor with a soft thud, and skimmed his finger over the tops of Isabel’s breasts and down to her waist.
“I want Sawyer to pleasure me, Master. I’m so sorry,” Isabel whimpered, her eyes welling up with tears.
Dylan caressed her cheek and gave her his best sympathetic comforting and reassuring smile. “I want you to want him. Right now, at this moment, you belong to Sawyer and are at his mercy. But you’ll always belong to me and only me. You know that. You’re mine, Love… forever.”
Isabel’s mouth curved upward in a sexy smile as her reluctance pooled at her feet, freeing her from her guilt and setting Sawyer free to satisfy both he and Isabel.
Dylan redirected his heated and possessive stare to Sawyer. He dug his fingers harshly into Sawyer’s shoulder while his eyes clung to him. “We owe you our lives, Morrison, and for that reason I will share with you, and only you, my most cherished possession – my wife and the love of my life. Make her soar, Sawyer, and hold nothing back.”
Sawyer was crushed by Dylan and Isabel’s surrendering words, and he suddenly felt light-headed and dizzy with excitement as the blood from his head rushed to his cock. He took a deep breath and held it to steady himself while Dylan gave his final instructions to Isabel as he kissed her.
“Fly, Baby Girl.”
Dylan moved away, standing on the sidelines with Luke and leaving Sawyer to exert his power over Isabel. Closing his eyes, Sawyer rolled his neck, loosening his tense muscles and letting his apprehension go. He had Dylan’s permission after all and Isabel was consenting.
He vowed to himself that he would try the whip only once more on Isabel’s supple flesh, and if he made the same mistake as before, he would just have to move onto something more his skill level. Sawyer snapped the whip in the air loudly several times, re-acclimating himself with the instrument. When he faced Isabel, her eyes were dreamy and her body writhed with need.