Page 60 of Finally, His

She let her head fall, her hair covering her face. “One.”

Wayne’s sick laughter echoed. God dammit, she shuddered in response.

“Just breathe,” Marcos whispered into her hair. “Remember who you are. Where you are.” He rose, and the view of his shoes disappeared. His footfalls grew distant.

Another blow to her ass, and she puffed out, “Two.”

Another crack resounded through the room. And it hurt. God, it hurt. He wasn’t being careful with her. He wasn’t striking her in one place and moving on to the other.

“Th-three.” Her nose ran, and twin tears ran down her cheeks until they hovered on her chin.

She gripped the chair leg with one hand, his strong calf with the other. Warmth from his body seeped through. She tried to tune into the heat from his thighs, anything to get away from feeling like she was back in the past. Back to when Wayne laughed at her—at her pain.

As he continued to whip her with the belt, her back arched to get away from the fiery sting.

She wanted to surrender to Richard, give everything to him. Her Master expected nothing from her that didn’t also help her.

But Wayne was there.Watching.

The belt came down on her, snapping like a firecracker against her flesh. She didn’t know how long it went on, just chased that moment when the pain would morph into what she knew lay on the other side.

“Breathe,” she said to herself. She gulped in air and let it out in a rush.

There was a moment when the sting turned. She’d first shrink from it. Then she’d grow desperate to lean into the burn. The sensation would build to a crescendo, and then, inexplicably, she’d be sliding down the other side of it, a delicious rising of pure pleasure.

God, she needed that pivotal moment. That was when she knew she was his, and he was hers. It was as if they met in the middle of a dance floor, bodies clashing together in pure ecstasy.

But it wasn’t coming even as her clit began to wake up.

She couldn’t forget that all those people were watching her get punished for—for what? For remembering the torture that Wayne had put her through?

No, for believing it could happen again.

But her Master wouldn’t let that happen. Even if the man was sitting five hundred feet from her, and she and Richard were the only other people in the room.

She writhed a little trying to change her position and get a little friction against that growing ache between her legs. But Richard held her firmly with one hand while the other continued to rain blows.

So much warred inside her. She was growing wet. She was scared.

A shudder ran through her, and she couldn’t stay still, even with his tight grip keeping her in place.

“Who do you take this pain for?” Richard asked calmly.

“You. Master.” She loved this man setting her ass on fire.

Her Master would do anything for her, and she for him. And hewasdoing something for her even though her mind couldn’t have formed words for what that something was.

Her body shifted again under another blow. Her nipples, now hard peaks, rubbed against his trouser pant legs. But it wasn’t enough, and she groaned in frustration. Her clit began to throb,

“One more, il mio tesoro,” he whispered.

It would be the hardest. It always was. The leather came down on the tenderest part of her ass. Her legs kicked, and she bucked as the fire nearly consumed her.

She panted, her chin now wobbling. The floor under her gaze was wet with her tears.

Richard let the belt clatter to the ground. His hand left her back and fisted her hair anew. He lifted her head. “Look at them. All of them.”

So many eyes on her. Assessing her.

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