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“Good girl. You'll take ten lashes and finish with an apology. After that, it's all forgiven, and we can move on with the rest of our evening.” Thane pushed off the bar and gave her a soothing stroke over her shoulder, some of his own anger leeching away. “Take your punishment in silence, Connie. Learn how to control your temper and your tongue under duress.”
“Yes, Sir. I won't make a sound.” God, she sounded weary.
Something heavy and cool lashed across her butt, forcing her to suck in a breath. Her eyes popped wide, her mouth open in a silent oh. What the hell was he using on her poor defenseless ass? Strike two thudded into her, turning her cheeks into quivering blobs of jelly. The third was lighter, stingier, while the fourth landed on the undersides of her buttocks.
Connie almost lost control of her voice, nearly shouted and cursed, when strike five snapped devilishly up between her thighs, licking along her drenched seam and biting her clit. Strikes six through nine kissed the backs of her thighs, dragging pleading whimpers to her throat, then she bit her own forearm to stop the force of the tenth and final blow ripping a scream free. Her ass smarted badly enough she assumed a few of those blows had thudded bruises deep into the muscles.
She bit harder to keep her moan from Thane, tasting blood.
“Simply stunning, sugar. You did well.” Something slapped onto the bar top; she recognized the sound as a wet towel. Liam was there in an instant, collecting his property, then walking away to keep himself away from the debauchery about to explode in his face. “In the future, when you want to rip my head off, give me a heads-up. We can fight about it in private, away from prying eyes.”
A hand slipped beneath her chest, lifting her up off the rigidly uncomfortable wooden top. When her feet touched the floorboards, her knees wobbled until she gathered her wits enough to lock them straight. Without thinking, she shoved Thane's hand away when he set it on her arm to steady her, and stepped away from him.
She throbbed, the nuisance sensation originating in her womb and spreading outwards to every fingertip and toe. Even the roots of her hair seemed to pulse with need. Her eyes found the perfect set of teeth marks in her arm, stared at the droplets of blood smeared over her skin, welling in the grooves. She'ddone that. Jesus, she'd mauled her own flesh to obey his order.
“Connie.” Those goddamn amber eyes were so fucking understanding when she lifted her horrified gaze, she couldn't stand it. The dregs of his temper lurked in the amber, sliding under the golden calmness of his usual amenable self. “It's okay, sugar. We'll get a first aid kit and clean it up.”
“I'm sorry, Thane. I'm sorry for losing my temper, I'm sorry for letting my nerves get the best of me.” Connie's hand shook as she reached out and snatched up her dress off the stool. The bite mark was beginning to sting nastily, making its presence known,. “I'm sorry for ruining your evening. I need to…I need to…”
Run. I need to run and find myself again.
With the dress clutched to her chest, her legs worked of their own accord. She took off like a startled deer, bumping through the last stragglers watching the Mistress of Avalon being rat-tailed by a submissive. Behind her eyes, a migraine rose quickly, pain stabbing her temples and neck, painting her skull in a thick layer of tension designed to cripple her senses.
Someone shouted her name.
Bolting for the doors, blinded by the need to flee and the fucking aura sheening her vision, she didn't see the mountain step in front of her with his arm stretched out to the side. She ran straight into it, felt it curl around her waist before Atticus swung her around, using her momentum to lessen the impact. She was almost sick, nausea swelling as fast as the migraine.
“Hush, sweetheart. Come with me now.” As though she belonged to him, Atticus hitched her over his shoulder and carried her back the way she'd come, returning her to Thane. “Maybe it's time you hobbled your sub, Thane. Where do you want her?”
Thane's voice was tight. “I'll take her. Is the private room free?”
“No, they're all booked for the next few hours.” Liam popped up, adding to the cacophony in her broken head. “I didn't reserve you one as there's usually an hour or two of congratulations and socializing after the Masters' announcement—congratulations, by the way. Bring her back to my office, Thane. It's quiet and private, no one will bother you.”
Connie kicked weakly as she was gently rolled off Atticus's broad shoulder into Thane's strong arms. Her stomach twisted, bile rose up her throat. She managed to croak, “Meds. Need meds.”
“Fuck, she's got a goddamn migraine. Atticus, if I get her settled into Liam's office, can you watch her while I drive home and get her meds? We came in my truck tonight and I forgot to bring one of her sprays.”
She closed her eyes against the glare, trying to shut out the voices and the music and the lights. Claws sliced into her brain as Thane carried her away, and she had to breathe in through her nose, out through her mouth to stop the flood of saliva puddling in her mouth. For God's sake, she didn't need to throw up everywhere and solidify the ruin of her reputation.
“No need. Braun sourced some, just in case something like this happened and Connie was unprepared. They're in the safe. Atticus will show you to my office, just give me a second to placate this lot waiting for drinks and I'll bring them back for you.”
“Thanks, Liam. Lead the way, Att.”
Connie slapped her hand against Thane's shirt, gripped it tight. “Sick. Gonna be sick.”
“Not in here. Follow me,” Atticus ordered.
Movement made everything worse. The blood sloshed in her head, screaming through arteries and veins, pumping into her brain until it felt as though her skull was cracking with the pressure. She swallowed down saliva repeatedly, battling the urge to just give in and let the sickness come. Thane's arms cradled her, kept her firmly against his body as he all but flew her out of the social area.
The glare of light through her eyelids abated slightly, the din of the club became less violent. The air cooled, kissing her heated flesh with relief. Something squeaked loudly once, twice, then the background noise disappeared completely.
“I didn't even know that door was there,” Thane murmured.
“Liam doesn't want anyone knocking at his door when he's doing paperwork and shit. He has cameras set up so he can keep an eye out for deliveries and visitors through the day, and there's an intercom linking the bar to both Braun's office and in here. You okay with her if I go get her medication?”
“Yeah, of course. Thanks, Atticus. Some fast reflexes you've got there. She set off like a fucking Olympic sprinter at the sound of the starting gun, and I just wasn't quick enough to grab her.”
Atticus, the bastard, chuckled. “Had a feeling she was gonna bolt. Strongest fucking Domme I know, but when she gets overwhelmed, she's got a wicked flight or fight instinct, and flight is her go-to method of escape. I'll be back in a minute. I think Liam keeps a blanket and some pillows in that cupboard over there for when he sleeps in here.”
