His to Take (Wicked Lovers #9)(62)
Author: Shayla Black

Kata, faced with the same challenges as London, spent the evening curled up on Hunter’s lap in an overstuffed chair, watching Sweet Pea kneel at Axel’s feet. He looked like a mountain beside the dungeon’s petite receptionist.

He peeled off his tee and ordered her out of her retro shirtwaist dress and berry-pink bra. Once she’d complied, he affixed nipple clamps to her pert breasts and engaged her in a kinky game of Simon Says, rewarding her when she followed his specific, exacting commands. If she failed, he punished her by eliminating sensations and praise. Sweat sheened on their skin. Axel watched the girl with absolute concentration as he walked slow circles around her, just waiting for his next opportunity. She concentrated, breath held and desperate to please.

Their game turned Bailey on, but the other scene going on a few feet away held her in thrall.

Logan had stripped Tara down to a sturdy nursing bra and her tiny thong. He kissed her mouth softly, then worshipped her with a brush of his lips over her collarbones and breasts before inching down to caress the handful of reddish stretch marks bisecting her stomach.

“Don’t, Logan.” She squirmed to get away as his tongue traced the lines low on her belly.

He grabbed her wrists. “We’re going to cover this again, huh? I’m not perfect, you know. I have scars.”

“That’s different,” she murmured, avoiding his gaze.

“Look at me.” He waited until she complied. “It’s totally different. Your stretch marks are a beautiful badge of honor to me. I have two perfect daughters because of you. So don’t be self-conscious. And don’t make me paddle you again.”

When he bent to kiss her marks once more, Tara winced and squirmed. “I just don’t feel—”

“You are beautiful, as much as you’ve always been,” he vowed. “And I warned you. Now you’re in trouble. Again. This is one argument you’ll never win, Cherry.”

He grabbed a sputtering Tara and flung himself in a nearby chair, then spread her facedown across his lap. His big hand sailed down to smack her backside. She yelped, jerked, tensed. A bright red handprint appeared on her pale skin. Without missing a beat, Logan did it again.

Bailey stared, jaw hanging open. Was everyone going to let this man hit his wife simply because she’d had a self-conscious moment? She understood that her self-debasement wasn’t healthy and why it displeased him, but . . .

Clutching her spiked punch in hand, she sneaked a glance around the room to find the others either watching with interest, like Joaquin, or not paying attention at all. No way would she stand by idly while Tara endured.

Bailey stood and headed over to stop them. Someone had to.

Kata shoved up from Hunter’s lap and waddled in her direction, cutting her off. “Don’t.”

“Are you crazy?” Bailey knew what that spanking felt like. Slightly painful, primal. Disturbing. Hot.

“Never been around BDSM?”

“I’ve read a book or two. I pretty much get it.” She gestured to Tara. “But it’s obvious—”

“So the answer is no. Your head tells you that what you’re seeing is wrong, but some other part of you responds?”

Bailey whipped her gaze around to Joaquin’s sister. “How did you know?” The words slipped out. Horror spread through her. She closed her mouth, then sighed. “It looks abusive.”

“That’s how I felt when I first found the lifestyle.” Kata smiled. “I knew almost nothing about it until I met Hunter. I was both attracted and terrified. Everything he did to me seemed like something I should hate and protest. But when I almost lost him, I got honest with myself. I loved everything about it.” She cast a glance over her shoulder. “Look at them now.”

Bailey followed suit and somehow witnessed a whole different scene. Logan still spanked Tara’s ass at a brisk, almost blistering pace, but everything else had changed. The woman was no longer tense, but had melted into him, muscles lax, skin flushed. Her cries rang with passion, rather than weeping with pain. Heck, the two of them even seemed to breathe together, seemingly symbiotic, connected by his desire to touch her and her need to feel his concern.

Bailey let loose the breath she’d been holding. “What I’m seeing . . . it doesn’t make sense.”

“It does if you’re in Tara’s shoes.”

“I have been, but—” She looked Joaquin’s way, then realized what she was saying to the man’s sister and winced. “Sorry.”

“My brother spanked you?”

Kata sounded downright fascinated. Wasn’t she weirded out by that knowledge? Then again, if she watched her brother-in-law discipline his wife, maybe they were all beyond that.