Page 24 of Reign

Zephyr understands pleasure. Throne understands pain.

I understand timing.

Our submissive waits in the center of the room because she asked to be there.

Her limits were named before a single buckle closed. Her safeword was spoken aloud. Consent was confirmed while she stood free and again after her wrists were secured.

A safeword outranks every man in this room. Including me. Power only interests me when it is handed over freely.

Now she hangs from the ceiling straps, arms stretched high, wrists locked in thick leather cuffs. The position arches her body just enough to keep her balanced on the balls of her feet. Discomfort is the point. It leaves her open, trembling, watched.

When Zephyr asks, “Color?” she answers without hesitation.

“Green.”

Only then does the room begin.

Anticipation is its own restraint.

No one rushes her or scrambles for the first touch like a starving boy with no discipline. The silence stretches until her breathing turns shallow and her body begins to beg before her mouth does.

Zephyr moves first, pleasure dom to his core.

He circles her slowly, giving her every chance to feel him before he truly touches her. One warm hand trails down her spine. The other settles at her ribs.

Her breath catches.

Zephyr smiles.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, voice warm and coaxing. “Already asking so sweetly without saying a word.”

Her hips twitch, chasing his touch.

“Good girl.” His hand trails between her legs. “Let me hear every pretty fucking sound you make for me.”

Two fingers slide into her, slow and deep. His thumb finds her clit and settles into a lazy rhythm, drawing wet sounds from her as he works her toward the edge.

Throne watches with a dark, predatory smile before stepping in from the other side.

He catches her chin, forcing her attention onto him. “Still green?”

She swallows. Nods.

“Words.”

“Green.”

He fists her hair and draws her head back. Two fingers press against her lips.

“Open.”

She does. He pushes them deep while Zephyr keeps her open and shaking.

Throne holds her gaze as tears spill down her cheeks.

“Greedy little whore,” he says coldly. “I’d enjoy fucking this pretty face, but you already promised this ass.”

His hand cracks across her ass twice, painting her skin red while she moans around his fingers.