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“Good,” he replies, his voice filled with grit. “Remove your coat and kneel,” he orders.
I move to the sofa across the room. I slip off my trench and lay it along with my clutch across the back.
“We don’t need a room this nice. You’re only going to whip me,” I tell him.
“I didn’t tell you to speak,” he says.
Instead of his comment pissing me off, my nipples pucker. Maybe I should have worn a padded bra.
I go to slip off my heels, but he stops me. “Leave them on.”
I do as he says and kneel in the middle of the room, facing him. I drop my head like I know to do. I’ve read up on what’s expected of me. I’ve done all the research. I feel him shift, but I don’t look up.
“Is that what you plan to wear?” His voice grows gruffer with each question and statement.
“No, Sir.” I keep my head down as I answer him. “I have another outfit on underneath.”
“Then by all means show me,” he orders.
I slowly stand up and pull at the square, wide-neck collar of the black velvety bodycon dress. I slide it down my body. My shoulders are exposed, and I try to keep from freaking out over this going much faster than I thought it would. I leave the straps of my lace lingerie in place and continue pushing the dress down my trim waist to my hips. They are muscular and not as curvy as some women’s. Once the material is past my ass, it falls without me pushing it. I step out of it and lay it over my coat. I hear his intake of breath and guess he sees all of the scars across my back through the lace. I’d hoped they wouldn’t show until I was strapped to the cross.
I move back to my spot and assume the submission position I was in before.
* * *
Leif
She’s before me practically naked, and I can’t touch her. I can’t do anything but talk to her and whip her. She’s beautiful, but I like her fresh-faced like she was in the café. Her long, thick hair is wavy to her shoulders instead of pulled back in a bun like the last time I saw her. I want to see if it’s as soft as it looks. Her skin glows in the candlelight. When she turned her back to me, I couldn’t contain the intake of breath when I saw her tan, muscular ass. I want to palm it.
I slowly stand and keep myself in the shadows. I worry she’ll run when she realizes it’s me. She was so careful to hide her identity, but I suspected it was her. I’m not ready to end this, so I need her to crave my whip so I can keep her.
“To the cross. Keep your face facing it.” My voice comes across so gruff I don’t recognize it. I haven’t taken a sub in a very long time. Maybe I need to scene with one so I don’t lose it on this woman who doesn’t even want me to fuck her. Ley was adamant that no one was to touch her, not even during subspace or as aftercare. I’m not sure I can keep my distance from her.
I let the whip’s end slide from my fingers and to the floor. I let it trail as I finally step out of the shadows. She can’t see me yet. I move up behind her after I leave the whip where I want it. The distance that I know will give her the taste she’s looking for.
“Close your eyes,” I order her, and she does as I say.
She inhales when I take her wrist and pull it up. She starts to resist me, so I slow down. I can’t rush her. She’s like an injured wildcat. I look down her body and see the scars that riddle her skin. I can’t ask.
After I strap her in, I move back to my position and grab the whip. Because she’s never had this done, I’ll start off slowly. I move back toward her. I don’t touch her, but I let the whip slowly drag across her skin. At first, she jerks and tries to get away, but then she calms and almost purrs as she flexes to get more contact with it. Interesting. When I touched her, she didn’t jerk as bad as she did when the whip touched her.
I flick the whip behind me and let the end snap so she gets used to the sound.
“Ready?” I ask next to her ear. She shivers, and I watch as a flush works over her skin and gooseflesh raises her fine hairs.
“Yes, Sir,” she says in a husky voice.
I move back. When I snap the whip, I let it snap near her but not on her. I hate to mark her, but I love that she’ll have my marks all over her before this is all done.
We start slowly with the whip barely touching her. By the time I realize she’s ready for more, I’m almost dying with need. I let the whip snap against her skin, leaving a mark, and she cries out. I want to rush to her side and make sure she’s okay, but I don’t. I do as her contract states. I can tell when she’s had enough and enters subspace with a cry of desire. She orgasmed, and I almost came in my slacks.
I move to just behind her. My palms itch to touch her reddened flesh. She’s collapsed against the cross, and I’m about to reach out and touch her when she turns her golden hazel eyes on me. I see the moment she recognizes me. Watching her go over was the second most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life, the first being her in the perfect submission.
“I’m just going to release you, Ley,” I say as softly as I can.
“Pl—Yes.” She was about to beg me for something, but then I watched as her eyes focused and went back to just staring through me. I need to convince her to let us continue. A plan starts to form in my mind.
After I remove the cuffs from her wrists and ankles, I step back and watch her. When she turns, I see more of the scars on her body. Some are ugly and jagged. I wonder what caused them. As soon as she notices I’m staring, she moves past me to her dress. She flinches as she tries to put the garment back on. I’m guessing her overly sensitive skin is protesting the tight material. Giving up on it, she pulls on the trench coat instead. She moves to stand back in front of me, and I squeeze my hands into fists so I don’t pull her into my body. I want to taste her lips. I want to feel her skin against mine.
