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“Damn it,” Cameron swore softly under his breath. Stephen was more pure sadist than Dom, his focus primarily on causing erotic pain. And while Jess was clearly masochistic, Cameron sensed that she needed something more—a softly whispered encouraging word, a centering touch to keep her strong.

Jess was whimpering now, tears rolling down her cheeks as the caning continued, stroke after relentless stroke. Cameron realized he, too, was clenching his fists in sympathy. He could feel her rising panic. She was dancing on her toes now, twisting in an effort to get away from the cane.

“Be still,” Stephen snapped, while simultaneously striking her with a whistling crack.

Jess wailed. Would she be forced to use the safeword?

Without intending to, Cameron leaped up from his chair. He strode toward the glass wall, pressing his hands against it as if he could reach through the glass. Don’t give up, he silently urged her. Breathe. Take it into yourself. Become one with the cane. Let it take you where you need to go.

Her mouth was twisting now, as if trying to form a word—two words—red light?

“No,” he breathed aloud. “Don’t give up, damn it. You can do this.”

Without stopping to think about what he was doing, Cameron reached for the switch on the wall beside him and flicked it, rendering the previously mirrored wall suddenly clear, and revealing himself in the process. It wasn’t standard protocol, but he didn’t care.

Jess turned toward the sudden light. Her eyes widened as he met her gaze, her mouth falling open.

Stephen, perhaps not even aware of what had happened because of his concentration on the caning, continued to whip Jess without mercy.

But as Cameron gazed steadfastly into her eyes, silently willing her to calm herself, she stopped dancing on her toes. Though the caning continued unabated, her fingers uncurled, her hunched shoulders easing a little.

“Yes,” he whispered, keeping his eyes on hers.

“Do it,” he said aloud. “For me.”

Something changed in that moment. Her panic, barely kept at bay a moment before, ebbed away like a wave leaving the shore. Her face smoothed, her eyes fluttering closed as her chin lifted. She no longer jerked or flinched when the cane made contact. She was somewhere else now—in that rarified, sacred place where subs sometimes went, into which no Dom could truly follow.

Cameron stared, rapt. She was so beautiful. She was…perfect.

Dominique, too, had risen to her feet, her mouth hanging open in surprise as she stared at Cameron through the now-clear glass. As their eyes met, Cameron was jerked out of whatever bizarre trance he’d been in. What the hell was he doing?

Reaching again for the switch, he flicked it off, returning the mirror to its opaque state. He fell back into the chair and ran his hand over his face. Stephen had lowered his arm, it being abundantly clear to all that Jess had passed the audition.

Jess slowly came out of her trance as William let her down from the cuffs. He placed a steadying arm around her waist as she swayed on her feet. Stephen opened a bottle of water and handed it to the girl while Dominique slipped a silky kimono robe over her shoulders.

Jess’s eyes became more focused, the smudged, dreamy expression falling away. As she sipped the water, her gaze returned to the mirror. She peered intently at it, eyebrows furrowing slightly, as if that might help her to see through it once again.

Cameron resisted the impulse to flip the switch to reveal himself once more. While what he’d done wasn’t against club rules per se, he had possibly altered the outcome of the audition by making his presence known.

He’d probably pissed off the judges in the process, but that wasn’t his concern. Jess, so close to panic beneath Stephen’s heavy hand, had calmed at the sight of Cameron. There was no denying that.

The realization was gratifying, if disconcerting. She was probably just overwhelmed, and seeing a familiar face had calmed her. He, on the other hand, had no excuse for the powerful visceral response her audition had pulled from him. He needed to watch his step, or he might just stumble and fall.

“Separate worlds,” he reminded himself in a whisper.

Chapter 5

Jess couldn’t tear her eyes away from that mirrored wall. She had to press her lips together to keep from shouting his name.

Mr. Lord—no, she needed to stop thinking of him that way—not while she was there at the Masters Club. Master Cameron had been watching her the whole time through the mirror. The thought made her flush hot and cold at the same time. Why hadn’t he been one of the judges? Why had he hidden behind that mirror, like some kind of peeping Tom?

Yet, underneath her irritation or embarrassment or whatever it was, was a much stronger feeling.

Desire.

And gratitude.

While Jess prided herself on her ability to withstand considerable erotic pain, the caning had been brutal, with little to no build-up to allow her to acclimate to its sting. As much as she’d wanted to pass the audition, panic had temporarily short-circuited her brain. Her mouth had opened of its own accord, the safeword forming on her tongue.

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