Page 42 of Wicked Queen

“Does it hurt?” I asked, torn between fear and elation.

She shook her head. “Not really. I have a lot of padding there.”

The joke was meant to lighten the mood but it only reminded me of how perfect she was and how much I enjoyed spanking her. Silence stretched between us as I marveled at my work. It should feel wrong to take pride in it. It didn’t. I should hate myself. I couldn’t.

“X?” she called to me with the delicacy of a lamb approaching a lion. “I loved it.”

I closed my eyes and let those words wash through me, cleansing me of all the shame I’d battled since I’d been pulled from a bondage club years ago and told I was a disgrace. She loved it. Not me. It. This moment we shared. She loved submitting and I loved claiming her. The scales had settled, centered on our love and this newfound intimacy.

Still, there were other considerations. “You might not if you saw what it looks like.”

“Then show me,” she said simply. The answer had been there all along, staring us in the face while we chose to remain blind.

We went to the bathroom and I took a mirror from the drawer, helping her angle it so she could get a glimpse in the larger mirror. When she caught the reflection, she gasped.

My breath hitched, waiting for her to speak, but I didn’t expect her reaction. Her smile spread like honey over her lips—sweet and slow. I couldn’t breathe as her eyes found mine in the mirror. “It’s so pretty.”

“You don’t mind?” I asked. Pride swelled in my chest, straining against my ribcage.

“I feel sexy,” she whispered. Her eyes flickered away and she bit her lip. “Is that wrong? I’m new to this.”

“You are very, very sexy, and I’m very proud that I made you feel that way. I didn’t know how you’d respond,” I admitted.

“Didn’t you, though?”

I had hoped. I had imagined it in my darker moments. But did I know? My desire and my certainty were always inextricably mixed where Clara was concerned. I could never separate what I wanted to do to her with what I believed I could.

“Don’t keep yourself from me,” she commanded and I nodded my promise.

“There have to be rules.” I kissed her neck, enjoying how demurely her lashes fluttered at the touch. “Limits.”

She whimpered as though I’d caged her too soon. “Later.”

“This needs to heal,” I continued.

“Please.” Her arm hooked around my neck and I wondered if she’d let me go.

“There are other ways I can take you to that place and you’ll still have these pretty marks for us to enjoy for days, Poppet.”

“Yes, please.”

“It’s late,” I pointed out.

“I’m not tired.”

“If only I had…” My thoughts slipped to bindings and bars, clamps and whips. It would be a bit harder to procure those items discreetly, but I looked forward to introducing her to it all. I would show her how strong her body was by breaking it and building it anew.

“There are a few things in the closet,” she said with a sheepish smile. “I don’t know what half of it is.”

“When you said you were going shopping, I didn’t think…”

“They were delivered.” Her eyes widened when she saw the disapproval on my face and she added, “By a very discreet service.”

“We’ll discuss it later,” I growled. A possessive part of me wanted to be the one to pick out these items, but I couldn’t deny I was relieved to have something to work with. “Go sit on the bed.”

The bag was lined with velvet, and my mouth turned down when I realized how she’d procured these items. We would definitely be discussing this later. Still, I now had a nice set of items, including the one tool I wanted most.

Clara studied the long, silver bar as I brought it to the bed. I pointed to the headboard. “Up there, sit against those pillows.”