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“Mmm-hmm. Proud of you for being so brave, obeying us even when what we asked of you was difficult. Proud of you for being so beautiful, inside and out, that three of our friends find you irresistible—that number would’ve been more, Sierra, make no mistake. Fordham, Levi, and Merrick were the only single Doms Liam trusted to scene with you, without making you feel like a slut.”
Sierra swayed to the cadence of his voice, the words pattering like gentle rain on wounds a decade old. Her hands lifted, pressing the dragon to his chest. “Is it bad to admit I liked it?”
“Of course not.” His mouth detoured down the side of her neck. “Does admitting it make you feel bad?”
She shook her head. On the contrary, it kind of made her feel… empowered.
“We want you to be comfortable telling us what you want, pixie. If it’s something that gives you the sense of being strong, confident, desirable, then we are all for it.” He nipped the sweet spot on her neck, almost buckling her knees. “It’s about damn time you opened your eyes to the reality of who and what you are, Sierra.”
The dragon thumped softly to the floor, forgotten, as Sierra’s hands reached for his hair. Fingers threading through the softness, she rubbed herself against his groin, seeking the sweet relief only her Daddies could bring.
“Ah, ah, ah.” Chuckling, Mack eased her back. “No hanky of the panky kind for you, sneaky pixie. Little rulebreakers don’t get their snug cunts filled when they sneak out of the house after being told to stay at home. They get on their knees and ask how they can start making amends.”
She looked down at the bulge pointing in her direction. “Blowjob?”
“If you’re offering, pixie, I won’t say no.”
Slowly, she bent to retrieve the dragon, then straightened and turned to set it on the nearest flat surface, ensuring it faced away from the debauchery.
Taking him at his word, she knelt at Mack’s feet, assuming the position that settled her ass on her heels, her thighs parted, her hands palms-up and relaxed. Back straight, she peered up at him, judging his reaction. “How may I make amends, Master Maverick?”
“Holy shit.”
“Scat is a hard limit,” she responded easily, making him laugh.
“Yes, I know your hard limits, Sierra.” Obviously intrigued, he set a single fingertip on top of her head as he walked a slow circle around her. “I just didn’t expect this.”
When he came to a stop in front of her again, she gave him the same patient look. A submissive awaiting further commands from her Dom. She liked this mindset as much as being Little. Both appealed to her; both healed her in different ways.
Submission was a salve, cool and soothing, encouraging a sense of peace.
Being Little gave her freedom.
“All right, then. Do you prefer direction or just doing it your own way?”
“You’re the Dom, Sir. You tell me.”
He nodded as though remembering his role here. “Unzip me, pixie.”
She obeyed immediately, popping open the button and dragging down the zipper, spreading open the material. He wore hunter green boxer-briefs, the fabric hugging the shaft of his dick and his balls even as the crown sought escape from the waistband.
“Push it all down to my knees.”
She maneuvered his pants over his ass and hips, his thighs, until they gathered around his knees. The boxer-briefs followed, allowing his erection to stand straight and unhindered.
Blowjobs were not her favorite activity; something else Wyatt ruined in the early stages of her sexual awakening. She tried her best to enjoy it because Liam did—what guy didn’t?—but he was aware she considered it more of a punishment than any spanking he gave her.
The thick, long length jerked softly without any encouragement, a plump vein throbbing near the base. Precum slicked the wide head, leaking from the deep slit. If penises could be handsome, Mack’s fit the criteria.
“Lick, pixie.”
Because he didn’t say she could use her hands, she kept them on her thighs, leaning forward to lay her tongue on that pulsing vein. His sharp intake of breath speared straight between her legs; the possessive clamp of his fist in her hair amplified the dull need in her womb to screaming.
Slowly, she dragged her tongue up his straining length, inch by inch. She rose up to reach the crown, tracing the tip of her tongue around the underside, before swiping the precum away with a lazy swish.
“My God.”
She kept her distaste to herself as the flavor hit her tastebuds. Offending him wasn’t acceptable, and she was accustomed to hiding her true feelings when it came to sex. Of course, if Liamfound out, her punishment would be worse than a blowjob or spankings.
