Read Online Room at the Edge by Jane Davitt, Alexa Snow - Free Book Online Page B

kneeling. Some kind of protest, probably.
    “No, Sir,” Austin whispered.
    “Good.”
    Liam drew the crop over the back of Jay’s left thigh, down to the hollow behind his knee, a slow journey that made Jay struggle to stay still. He wanted to feel the crop strike him, no warm-up spanking, just that stark slash of pain.
    “Tell me, Austin, how many do you think he’ll take before he begs me to stop? How many before he really means it and uses his safe word?”
    “I don’t know, Sir.”
    “You mean you don’t want to think about it.”
    “No, I just—”
    There was the sound of leather striking skin, and Austin cried out. “You’re forbidden to talk unless I ask you a question,” Liam reminded Austin. The sound was repeated, this time followed by a choked-out groan. “And that was for not answering me. Try again, Austin. How many will he take?”
    Jay’s wrists hurt, and it took him a moment to realize why. He was tugging at his bonds, trying to break free and go to Austin. That crop was vicious. Liam had used it on both of them a few months ago, and Austin had screamed out his safe word without hesitation after half a dozen strokes, none of which had been delivered at full strength.
    And under his blazing concern ran a dark swell of envy that Austin’s skin bore two red marks and his was bare.
    “Twenty-four,” Austin said. The tone was okay. He sounded okay. He had to be okay.
    Twenty-four, on the other hand, didn’t seem like nearly enough to Jay. He waited, quivering with need.
    “Really?” Liam was amused; Jay could tell. “All right. However many Jay goes over twenty-four, you get as well.”
    The room was silent as both Jay and Austin absorbed this. Austin didn’t say anything—he was smart; he’d learned his lesson—and neither did Jay, even though he wanted to. He was straining at the ropes around his wrists again, and more important than that, he was angry. Now twenty-four had to be enough, because there was no way he was chancing Austin getting hit with the crop on his behalf. No way.
    “I’m going to be kind and give you the opportunity to modify your guess,” Liam said. “With a penalty, of course. Let’s say…ten strikes? I suspect you’re wishing you’d suggested a higher number originally. Are you?”
    “Yes, Sir,” Austin said. Jay wished he could see Austin’s face so that they could at least communicate through their expressions.
    “Jay, do you have anything to contribute?” Liam asked.
    “Austin, don’t change it,” Jay said instantly. “It’s fine. I’m fine. Don’t do something you don’t want, okay? I don’t mind. Twenty-four is good. It’s great. I don’t need more than that.”
    It was a lie, a huge lie, and he was pretty sure Austin knew it, but right then he meant it as much as he’d ever meant anything. Ten strokes wouldn’t be too much for Austin if Liam was careful, but Austin had issues with how much pain Jay needed. Watching Jay go to his limit when Austin was this emotionally churned up would leave Austin a wreck.
    For the first time Jay wondered if he could someday have a solo session with Liam, and what it would be like. It felt disloyal to want that and he tried to thrust the thought away, but it clung as persistently as a scrap of plastic wrap. They’d done it once, but that’d been before they’d redefined their relationship, and there had been limits in place.
    The prospect of Liam with Jay’s safe word the only limit to his desires was as tempting and dangerous as slipping on the Ring had been for Frodo and Bilbo.
    “Well, Austin? How many strokes can he take?”
    “He can take forty, Sir,” Austin whispered.
    Jay bit his lip. An extra sixteen strokes for him, bought with ten for Austin. Even if he told himself that Austin liked being spanked and a certain amount of pain, he knew he wouldn’t enjoy his whipping, or if he did, he’d feel guilty.
    “You’re so fucking mean sometimes, you know that?” The words were no sooner