Beyond Ecstasy (Beyond #8) by Kit Rocha

Author:Kit Rocha [Rocha, Kit]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781942432227
Publisher: Kit Rocha
Published: 2016-05-23T04:00:00+00:00

In Hawk's earliest days as a member, Dallas had sent him out with whoever needed backup. Boots-on-the-ground training and a side of friendly hazing all rolled into one, because brotherhood was something you had to earn.

Ace had always been the worst. Not because he liked to haze, but because he liked to talk. Hawk and Jasper could cover the entire market plus another ten blocks without feeling compelled to exchange more than a few necessary words.

But Ace? He never shut up.

Even that might have been tolerable if they shared an interest—any interest. Finn and Bren loved to talk cars, Cruz and Zan liked to talk weapons. But Ace only seemed to have three settings: art, booze, and kinky fucking. And Hawk had still been trying to convince himself so damn hard that that last one wasn't a shared interest at all.

Jeni's cabinet was a goddamn treasure chest of delicious perversion. Leather cuffs that would fit around her wrists and ankles, connected to delicate lengths of chain. Equally delicate looking strands of pearls that his imagination could already conjure uses for. Vials and bottles stacked in neat little rows, some recognizably products of Tatiana's robust business in massage oil and lube, some tiny and elegant, screaming money.

And hanging on a row of hooks in the back…

Ace would probably call it a modest collection. But Ace was the one who'd dragged him into the leatherworker's shop in the marketplace on every fucking trip. Ace was the one who waxed fucking poetical about choosing the right tool for the job.

Ace was the one who'd had a shit fit the day Hawk had wanted to get the fuck out before temptation overrode his good sense, so he'd gone ahead and asked how many fucking floggers one man could possibly need.

The tirade had lasted the entire way home. About the types of leather and the weight and the width and why it mattered. About the art of knowing when someone needed something sharp and stinging, and when they needed deep and solid. And there might have been a few jabs about how a man would have to be a boring-ass lay if he thought a partner always wanted one or the other.

Hawk had tried to let it roll off, but some part of him had hoarded every precious scrap of knowledge. Deep down, in the same place where he'd locked away his lust for Jeni and all the urges he'd never considered indulging. So he knew he wasn't ready for the whip, and that the flogger made from thin strips of oiled leather would sting more than he wanted when she was still tender from the other night.

He picked the other one—soft, supple leather in strips almost as wide as his thumb. As he gripped the handle, his heart thudded faster, which should have been fucking impossible. His heart had stuttered when Jeni slid to her knees, and shattered the first time she swallowed his cock, so desperate to please that she'd let him fuck her.

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