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He bends down to kiss me. This isn’t a sweet kiss, a loving kiss. This is a savage claim, a vicious show that he’s the one who owns me. He’s the only man who can give me what I need.
“Count,” he says when he steps back.
The first slash lands like a lightning bolt. It explodes across my ass and deep inside my pussy. It shatters my heart and fractures my brain into tiny sparking diamonds. It can only be a fraction of what the Sawgrass men felt when they fell in the attack on the Herzogs’ compound.
“One,” I gasp.
The second blow lands beside the first—short, sharp, hot, deep. It burrows through my soul. “Two.”
The third strike makes my ankles sway. The fourth sinks me to my knees. The fifth makes me sob, and the sixth makes me scream.
And all that time, I feel the power growing inside me. I’m a furnace, melting bone and muscle and skin. I’m a star, shining through the velvet night. I’m the spring that winds the universe, turning tighter and tighter and tighter.
Seven makes me sob.
Eight makes me holler Trap’s name like a prayer.
Nine makes me beg, saying yes, saying no, but never, ever saying the safeword that I know would make him stop.
Ten lands across the top of my thighs, aching, burning, bright.
The last blow falls crosswise over all the other marks, and I shout my victory, three jagged syllables, torn across forever: “Eleven!”
At the same time, Trap gives his own command: “Come!” and without him touching me, I burst and I shatter and I break into a million million pieces. I come until I can’t see. I come until I can’t breathe. I come until I wonder if I’ll ever stop, if my body will ever belong to me again.
But finally I’m back in the world. I’m conscious enough to know the only thing left in the universe that I desire.
“Fuck me,” I whisper, even though I don’t deserve it.
He reaches for my wrists and mutters a distant curse. Crosses to the dresser. To the nightstand. To the bed. “Where’s the key, Alix?”
“Key?”
I’m the key. That’s my name. He knows that. He’s known that since June. Why is he asking now, when we’ve been closer than we’ve ever been before?
“The handcuffs,” he says. “Where’s the key to the cuffs?”
I remember, and a tiny voice whispers that I’m supposed to be embarrassed, but there’s nothing that can shame me when I’m with Trap. “Inside me,” I say. “I put it in my pussy.”
Of course he swears again. And when he slides his fingers inside me, I whimper at the pressure against my too-sensitive flesh. I shiver from the crown of my head to my toes. He presses harder, the back of his hand rough against my throbbing clit, but then he finds the prize and rescues the salt-drenched key.
“Naughty Princess,” he says, brushing his hand across my flaming ass, a hint of the punishment he could choose to add.
But he doesn’t reach for the cane. Instead, he opens the right cuff first, and then the left. He drops the key on the floor before he slides his hands under my armpits. He lifts me, because my legs don’t remember how to bear my weight. He walks me toward the bed, supporting me until I lean forward, my forearms and my belly taking my weight on the mattress.
Braced there, I can take it when he knees my legs apart. I can clutch the bedspread in my shaking fingers. I can bury my face to smother my screams as Trap does what I asked for. He fills me with his cock, pounding hard, and when he’s close, he orders me again. I come around him, and he comes inside me, and we merge into something larger, something louder, something greater than the two of us apart.
Only after every nerve in my body has fired, only after I’ve forgotten how to speak, only after I’ve forgotten the Sawgrass men who fought for me, who died for me, does Trap collapse against my back. The stripes on my ass vibrate under his weight until he finds the strength to roll to one side. He pulls me with him, curling around me, draping an exhausted hand over my hip. And before either of us can speak, we tumble into sleep.
25
TRAP
* * *
Iwake a few minutes after midnight. Alix is still out cold.
I can’t believe the filthy things she comes up with. I nearly blew my wad getting the key out of her snatch. I’ve had women in this room before, women who let me tie them up, who let me use all the tools in my dresser drawer.
