Page 47 of Dead of Wynter


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I brush her hair from her face, my fingers carefully trailing down her cheek. “I understand. You’re doing so well and if you want to stop right now I’m not going to be upset, but if you want to keep going, you know I’ll never do anything that would really hurt you.”

She nods. “I know. I want to keep going.”

“I’m proud of you, little dove. How about we try to flogger first? I know you mentioned you liked it at the club?”

“Okay,” she whispers.

I smile warmly at her before pressing a kiss to her lips, not allowing myself to linger for more than a moment because I’m walking a fucking tightrope of lust right now and spending too much time kissing her will have all my other plans going out the window.

Once I’ve drawn the flogger from the bag, I place the ends on her bare back and carefully trail them down so she can feel the soft leather. She didn’t need to tell me for me to know why this bothered her, it’s almost too similar to a belt, but I would never use anything so harshly on her. No matter how upset I was, not even if she begged me, I couldn’t do it, and deep down Wynter knows that.

37

Wynter

The feel of the leather on my back has my heartbeat speeding up and the edge of panic seeping into my blissful state. The memories of that night dance just outside my field of vision, but it’s Everett’s soft touches that hold me here with him, that stop my mind from carrying me away to the night I wished for death.

“Ready, dove?” he asks gently as his fingers trail up the length of my spine in a soothing gesture.

“Yes,” I whisper, pressing my face into the cushion. The worst thing I can do is tense, it will only enhance the pain, but I don’t know how to feel anything other than tense right now.

It’s only a moment before the leather hits my skin in a gentle blow. This isn’t about punishment anymore, and if I’m really honest with myself I don’t think it was to begin with. This has always been about giving me back something I lost. The sting comes a moment later, but it’s almost comforting. The burn of my ass hurts, but not in the way it did as Craig hit me over and over again. The pain Everett inflicts is sensual and sexy, it has a place and a purpose.

“Green,” I say before I’ve really thought it all the way through. But then again, the safe words aren’t there for me to think over. They’re there if something is too overwhelming, too painful, and I’m not there.

He praises me quietly before continuing, and each hit is equally freeing as it is painful. The burn rushes through my body, my nerve endings firing with electricity, but the tears running down my cheeks aren’t those of agony, they’re tears of freedom, of letting go of something that has held me down for so long I almost forgot what it was like to let go.

“Wynter?” The concern is evident in Everett’s voice as the heavy leather hits the carpet and a moment later he’s kneeling beside me.

Every single part of me wants to reassure him, wants to tell him that he’s done everything I asked him to do and that I’m not crying because he hurt me, but the emotions washing over me are too overwhelming to force words through.

He curses as he reaches for the silk wrapped around my wrist but I manage to pull my arms away from him before he can touch them. “Dove, I’m just going to untie you, I’m not going to hurt you.” His words are full of agony. He thinks I’m pulling away from him because I’m scared, but that’s the furthest thing from the truth.

“I want to keep going,” I choke, the words barely audible around my sobs.

“No.” He shakes his head. “We’ve done enough. I don’t want to hurt or scare you.”

I gulp in breaths of air because I don’t want this to stop. I need to tell him the tears aren’t bad, that I’m releasing years of sadness, years of fear I’ve never been able to work through on my own. “I’m not scared. I’m not hurt.” The words are rushed and barely audible, but they’re enough to make Everett’s hands pull back so he can look at me.

“Wynter, you’ve had enough,” he says softly, but there’s a bite behind it, one that only seems to stroke the fire burning beneath the tears falling against my cheeks.

“Keep going,” I rasp through tears. “Please keep going.”

He stares at me for a moment, as if deciding whether or not he should do as I’m asking. “Do you want to take a break?”

I shake my head. “No, please, keep going.” It’s hard to speak through the sobs, hard to think through the deafening sound of my heart beating in my chest.

Everett brushes the tears from my cheeks, conflict etched into his handsome face. “Tell me where you’re at, dove. And I swear to God if you lie to me you won’t be coming for a month.”

I choke on a laugh and lean into his soft touch. “Green,” I tell him, and when doubt crosses the deep blue pools of his eyes I feel like I need to explain as best I can while in the state I am. “The tears aren’t bad tears.”

Another moment passes before understanding crosses his face and a small smile tugs at his lips. “Okay little dove. Five with the paddle and then you’re done, okay?”

I nod. “Okay.”

He only lingers for another second before returning to his place behind me. The cool wood of the paddle rubs across my burning flesh and almost feels comforting, but I know that will be short-lived. Everett exhales a long breath as the wood lifts from my skin, and then the most deliciously blinding pain comes down on my already stinging ass.

I let out a yelp, but there’s no panic, no fear. It’s just Everett and I, none of the memories I expect to flood my vision, and even though I’m crying, even though tears are saturating the cushion underneath my face, a smile tugs at my lips as I say the word he’s waiting to hear.

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