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Titan grimaces from the implication of the devices. “Sounds like she needs a psychiatrist.”
Maxim’s expression hardens. “It’s not our place to judge.”
He strides to the woman, placing his hand on her shoulder. Her head bobs repeatedly from his comments until finally he greets her husband, shaking his hand. Tension buzzes between them with the guy’s stiff body and jerky movements. Maxim steps back, waving forward a man waiting to the side.
An in-depth discussion follows Maxim’s introduction of the guy to the couple. Only able to hear bits and pieces from their soft voices, I gather Maxim is relinquishing his role in her beating to the new man and everyone is uncomfortable about the change.
Deep lines cross Maxim’s forehead as he breaks away from the conversation and heads toward us. His head twists furiously as he seems to be in conflict with himself. Eye to eye with Titan, he holds up his hands in defense, eager to explain himself. “I’ve given up participating for Chelsea but I committed to supervising the scene for Jama. I owe her that. She feels abandoned.”
None of this makes sense to me. Yet I agree with Maxim it’s not our place to judge them or what they want. I believe he’s keeping his word to Chelsea even if he oversees the situation. Titan appears to agree with his silent nod.
The worry smooths on Maxim’s face from Titan’s approval, and he races back to them.
Maxim’s replacement steps onto the podium. He ignores the husband’s hostility, sliding off his jacket to wear only a black tee shirt underneath and rolling back his shoulders as if to loosen his muscles.
With shaking hands, the woman drops her robe and scrambles to the wooden column shaped like a T, grabbing the silver handles hanging from the top. Bare except for her thin white panties, so much of her skin is unprotected. I guess that’s what she wants.
Her body trembles, and she glances over her shoulder, laser focused on the punisher as he peruses the torture devices. He seems unaffected by her impatience, picking up each implement and weighing the handles in his palm. When he selects a thick brown cane, the woman yelps in approval.
The husband steps back a few feet, angling himself to only see out of the corner of his eye. My heart aches for him, obvious this situation upsets him to see her desire to be hurt. I snuggle into Titan needing to feel his solidity for my own worry over him. Over them.
I know Maxim said this is what she wants, but I can’t wrap my head around the brutality. “I don’t want to watch this.”
“I don’t either.”
Fury radiates in his tone, and he quickly turns us, guiding me away from the scene. More emotion that either of us can identify or explain beats between us. We remain silent as he leads me back to the bar.
I don’t protest when he orders two whiskeys. What I know is happening in there, compels me to down hard spirits too.
He drops a fifty in the tip jar. Despite my unease, I smile. The alcohol might be on Maxim, but Titan thinks being cheap is an asshole move. I love that I’m starting to know him so well.
I curl next to him on the couch and sip my drink. The strong booze warms and calms me. Almost as much as Titan holding me so close and tight.
“That shit fucked me up.”
Even though the abuse is consensual, the viciousness is more than I could handle. “Me too.”
“I hate to admit it but this is a class act the way he has it set up. If he brings her here, I think she’ll be safe.”
For him to accept the truth takes a lot. I slip my fingers between his. “I think so too. You can trust him to take care of her.”
A long sigh blows against my skin. He feels defeated rather than contented. Letting go of her is bittersweet for both of us.
“Do you think Chels will stay with him once she sees it?”
“I don’t know.”
Titan leans forward and sits his glass on the low table. “Would you?”
The question surprises me. I ponder the situation. My answer surprises me even more. “Yes. Maxim was honest about what he does, and I believe that he really will give it up for her. He sacrifices his desires to make her happy. I can respect that.”
His hand wraps around the base of my ponytail, twisting the strands in his fist. “You really are incredible.”
An inferno blasts my cheeks from his compliment. “I’m just me.”
“Just you is perfect.”
He tugs my head back. This kind of control I like and open my mouth to him. He plunges deep, sharing the richness of the alcohol between us. He breaks away and shoves his lips to my ear. “I could fuck you on this couch and everyone in this place would be jealous it’s not them inside your juicy dripping cunt.”
