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The only warning I have is the whistle of the cane before he lands his first strike. The impact shocks my breath from my lungs and for one weightless moment, there’s no pain at all. That’s how I know it will hurt. I inhale and then the pain comes, washing my vision in red.

Hades doesn’t give me a chance to recover. He lands another strike and another, and I know without a shadow of a doubt that he’s striping my ass with perfect precision, marking me as his as effectively as if he’s tattooing his name there. I try to be silent, try to hold out, but I’ve never been able to before. Tonight isn’t enough to magically change that. A whimper slips past my lips as he hits the curve where my ass meets my thighs. Hades doesn’t stop, doesn’t relent, doesn’t do anything but strike me again.

As the next strike lands, I begin to beg.

Chapter 11

Hercules

I don’t know what’s happening to me. I watch Hades beat Meg with a long, thin cane, leaving a stripe of red welts down her pale ass and down her thighs, and part of me wants to rush in there and rip him away from her. The other, more confusing part of me, imagines what she’s feeling, and I crave it with a strength that leaves me breathless.

The other woman, Aurora, moves from the chair to sit next to me on the floor. She gives a happy sigh. “I love to watch them.”

Them.

This isn’t something Hades is doing to Meg. No, this is an intricate dance they’re doing together. Meg’s broken her composure, and she shakes and writhes, and Hades never lets up, never hesitates, never strikes anywhere but exactly where he intends. He shifts, and I see the look of utter concentration on his face that has my cock hardening to painful levels. He is entirely focused on Meg, and it’s so hot, I can barely stand it.

He finishes halfway down her calves and then drops the cane and runs his hands roughly over her newly welted skin. Her whimper turns into a throaty moan that makes my gut clench, but I can’t tell the source. Concern or desire. Some combination of both, maybe.

Up until this point, I’ve lived my life with very clear lines. Right and wrong. Yes and no. What I like and what I don’t. I feel like the moment I met Meg propelled me into this world of gray where there are no boundaries aside from a safe word, where everything can be negotiated and things that should be terrifying are actually sexy as hell. I don’t know myself in this world. I don’t have a clear path. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.

Hades uncuffs Meg and keeps her steady as he guides her to turn around. I expect him to do what Meg did, to bring her back to the couch, maybe cuddle her a little bit, offer some kind of aftercare. He doesn’t. He cuffs her wrists back to the cross, pressing her hard enough that she lets loose another of those desperate moans. Tear tracks mark her face and her entire body is flushed and shaking. She looks like she’s been through a war, but there’s something in those blue eyes that stills me. A peace I’ve never seen on her face before.

Hades wipes her tears away with his thumbs and kisses her softly. When he lifts his head, he doesn’t look away from her. “Come here, little Hercules.”

It takes a long moment for it to penetrate that he’s talking to me, and another long moment to climb to my feet and walk to him. I can’t hide my giant cockstand, and considering Hades jerked me off not too long ago, I don’t bother to try. He motions me forward with an imperial gesture, still not looking to ensure I obey. Why would he need to, though? I’ve already promised him obedience. In this moment, it feels like I’ve promised him a whole lot more.

He catches my wrist and pulls me the last foot forward. This close, I can see that Meg’s nipples are hard points and that the flush in her skin isn’t solely from pain. Hades shoves my hand between her thighs and presses two of my fingers deep inside her. “Jesus,” I breathe. She’s so fucking wet. She clamps around my fingers, and I can’t help pumping a little.

“You have a choice, little Hercules.”

I can’t drag my gaze from Meg—her face, her body, her pussy wetting my fingers. “What choice?”

“You can continue to observe.” His pause holds legions. “Or you can join.”

If I’m smart, I’ll retreat to the couch. These two are masters who have already proven that they won’t hesitate to manipulate me to further whatever their endgame is. I’m in over my head, and there isn’t a life raft in sight. I find myself nodding. “I’ll join.”