Those two words hit her harder than my hand did. Her back arched deeper and her hips pushed higher and a whimper leaked through her clenched teeth that contained no language at all, just raw, animal need. The Nectar of Devotion pulsed through our contact point, and I felt her pleasure spike so hard it nearly buckled my own knees.
The second strike landed on the right side. Symmetry mattered.
"Two!" Louder this time. Her voice cracked on the vowel and her tails wrapped around my wrist again, holding my hand against her skin where the impact still burned hot. She didn't want me to pull away. She wanted me to stay. To touch. To mark.
"What are you being punished for?"
"Blackmail," she panted into the pillow.
"And?"
"And sitting on Master's lap without permission."
"And?"
