Page 28 of Two For the Show (Trapped On The Tightrope Duet #2)

I can feel Quinton’s eyes on my back as I unbutton my jeans. Matteo tracks my movements, looking more predatory than I’ve ever seen the gentle Beta.

When I slide the pants down my legs and step out of them, a soft, pleasured sigh from Quinton has me biting my lip to hide a smile.

We’ve done no more than kiss each other, outside of watching one another fuck during the rut, but this feels intimate in a way I can’t describe.

I pull my shirt off, leaving me in a pair of pink cotton panties and a lace bra.

“Come here.” Matteo holds out his hand, and I take a few steps toward him. He places one hand on my lower back and uses the other to pull me down, settling me across his lap.

I feel strange. This is not a position I ever thought I’d find myself in. I feel vulnerable and exposed, but not objectified, surprisingly.

It’s a shock when Matteo’s hand caresses my thighs, rubbing them softly before dragging them up the curve of my ass. My breath hitches in anticipation, and I feel more than hear my Beta’s soft chuckle.

“Don’t hold your breath. We’re going to get started, okay?”

I wiggle a little, searching for a more comfortable position. It’s not that it’s uncomfortable being on his lap, but it’s a position I’m not used to. He takes pity on me and spreads his legs a little before positioning me so my chest lies on the couch.

“I’m ready,” I say breathlessly, closing my eyes.

“Count them for me, please.”

The weight of his hand disappears from my backside before it swiftly makes firm contact. It’s not exactly painful, but it’s certainly not comfortable. It’s a sharp sting that makes me yelp and leaves me gasping for breath.

I nearly forget to call out “One”.

The second spank comes just as quickly, and the sting of it on the newly tender flesh has me scooting up his lap as if I can run from the pain.

“Oh, get back here, Omega,” Matteo purrs, readjusting me so I’m fully across his lap. “I’m not nearly done with you yet. What’s your color?”

“Green, Beta.” It’s not even a question. The attempt to run was instinctual, not something I was actively trying to do.

It’s weird to fight that part of my brain that screams that I need to escape the pain, but it’s thrilling at the same time.

Smacks three, four, and five happen in quick succession, barely giving me time to call out their numbers, but things change when the sixth one hits.

My ass his heated from his attention, even over the panties, and when it lands, what my brain knows should be pain actually feels like a consuming pleasure that blooms from the point of impact.

I know that the pleasure and pain receptors in the brain can get tangled, and that they’re opposite sides of the same coin, but I’ve never experienced it myself until now.

There is no denying that slick is dripping from me by the time I say the number seven. I can’t see Quinton, but I can hear my Alpha’s pained sounds as he watches our Beta punish me. It makes me feel sexy and powerful to know that he’s close to losing control at the sight of us together.

Though this is beginning to feel pleasurable, I see what Quinton was talking about when he said that I felt like I needed punishment. Something about this power shift, letting Matteo be clearly, unmistakably in charge after everything has tension I didn’t know I was carrying loosening inside me.

Spank number eight is harder than the others, sending a stinging pain throughout me as it lands on my thighs. I yelp, and Matteo pauses while rubbing the skin.

“Color?”

This time, I take a moment to feel my body, to understand where I’m at right now. It hurt, yes, but it felt good, too. I don’t want him to stop. “Green,” I say, and I’m starting to melt into mush like Quinton warned me I would.

“Two more,” he reminds me, as if I could forget.

By the time I have received all ten spanks, I’m sure that I’ve left a puddle of slick on his lap, and I feel much lighter.

But I also don’t feel done.

It takes a surprising amount of effort to voice that. My tongue feels a little swollen, and my brain is hard to wrangle, but eventually I get the words out. “Could you give me a few more? Faster?” I know I’m basically whispering, but Matteo makes it clear he heard me with a pleased sound .

“Absolutely. Do you want to count, or just feel?”

“Just feel.”

The words are barely out of my mouth before his hand is popping me several times in a row, across my ass and thighs, leaving me feeling raw as I writhe on top of him.

When he stops and gathers me into his arms, stroking my face, I’m surprised to see his fingers come away wet.

I didn’t know I was crying.

“I’m sorry,” I whimper, wiping my face. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”

“It’s more common than you think,” he tells me softly, stroking my hair. “Endorphins, adrenaline, you name it. So many brain chemicals, so many emotions at play. But the most important thing is how you feel. Do you feel better?”

Do I feel better? That’s the real question, isn’t it? We decided to do this as a way to ‘punish’ me for what I did to Matteo, as a way of helping me address the lingering issue I had with the way our bonding went.

Does this make me feel better about that?

The answer is surprising, but probably only to me.

“Yes. It feels like we’re on more equal footing,” I tell him, nuzzling into his neck and enjoying his chocolatey, buttery scent.

“That’s the magic of power exchange,” he whispers into my neck, following it up with several kisses along the curve of it. “I’m glad you feel better. Now, let me take care of you.”

His words have my body heating again, and I squirm on his lap as I let out a little whine.

“That’s not what I meant!” He exclaims. “I meant pamper you. Bring you down. Aftercare.”

“Can sex be aftercare?” I whisper, surprised at how bold a question it is.

His scent spikes. “It can. ”

“Then kiss me, Matteo.”

He turns me around in his arms, and for the first time since the night I bonded him, our lips meet. This time, I can feel his pleasure through the bond as clearly as if it were my own.

After making out with Quinton like teenagers and now this surprisingly hot spanking session, I feel like one touch is all I’m going to need to explode.

I’m about to say as much, to beg Matteo to slip his hand between my thighs, when my eyes find our Alpha. He’s rubbing his hand lazily across his cock over his pants, an incredibly sexy smirk on his face.

“Hey, Omega,” he purrs, squeezing himself. “You looked so good bent over like that.”

Suddenly, the idea of him being so far away from me has me feeling unsettled, as if I have a physical ache to be near him. I hold out my hand to him, hoping he can see how much I need him with me.

He pushes himself to his feet and saunters over to the couch, sitting down and pressing himself against my back, sandwiching me between his body and Matteo’s.

They kiss over my shoulder, Quinton rubbing his cheek against Matteo’s as they pull away.

“You want me here?” My Alpha’s voice is vulnerable, like he’s sure I’m going to send him away. I let my body do the talking as I turn and grab his shirt, pulling him and crashing our lips together.

“Yeah, Alpha,” Matteo says in my ear, “I think she does.”

I’m acutely aware that I’m in my underwear and both of them are fully dressed, which feels like an utter travesty. As my lips tangle with Quinton’s, I pull his shirt up, only breaking away so I can get it off of him.

He’s thin, his skin pale around the sword tattooed down his chest. I run my hands over it, admiring the art up close for the first time. From behind me, I feel Matteo move around, and then his bare chest is pushing against me.

Their scents swirl together, cocooning me in a cloud of sweetness that makes my mouth water and teeth ache.

As if they practiced, their hands move in opposite directions on my body, making me feel like no inch of my skin is free from their ministrations.

They tease me, running fingers under the straps of my bra, dancing them lightly across the cups.

Someone tickles the small curve of my belly, and another weaves his fingers into the base of my hair.

It’s only when my head is yanked back, exposing my throat to Quinton, that I can differentiate who is touching where.

Quinton kisses down the column of my throat, across my collarbones, and to the top of my breasts.

With a deft hand, Matteo undoes my bra, and our Alpha doesn’t wait to gather one of my nipples in his mouth.

“Fuck,” I hiss, grabbing Quinton by the hair and pressing him tighter against my breast. After Matteo’s expert spanking session, I feel like I am standing on the edge of a cliff, but I’m not getting enough to push me over.

When I start to beg, to plead, for them to touch me more, Quinton pulls away.

“Where are you going?” I whine, reaching out for him. “Come back, please. I need you.”

“I know you do, Omega,” he says as he places a soft kiss on my lips. “Teo is going to get you comfortable.” My Beta turns sideways on the couch, settling me between his thighs. He kneads my breasts, twisting my nipples, as Quinton lowers his body and stares at my apex.

He slides his fingers under the edge of my panties and pulls them down my legs. I would be embarrassed about the amount of slick that must be glistening on my thighs if I weren’t so fucking needy that I feel like I am going to cry if he doesn’t touch me where I want him most.

Quinton doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to give me what I need.

In fact, as he travels up my body, kissing and sucking on my skin, I think I’m finally going to get what I want, what I need.

Instead, he deviates by grabbing the waist of Matteo’s pants.

I shift my body slightly so I can watch my Alpha unzip my Beta’s pants and reach into them to pull out his cock.