They both knew it wasn’t the pain that caused her arousal, but if he mixed everything up like this often enough, would her brain and body become so jumbled that she wouldn’t know the difference? It was certainly a better outcome than simply enduring it to be with him. She thought about the looks of satisfaction and peace on the faces of the women as they left his dungeon, and wondered if that look would soon be on her own face. For the first time, it felt like a real possibility.
He removed his fingers and her heart sank into her stomach, knowing what was coming next. She gripped the edge of the table, bracing herself, but his hand stroked gently over her back. His mouth moved close to her ear. “Water,” he whispered.
She tried to focus on the music and relax as the paddle came down across her bottom. Harder than his hand, but less intimate. She was suddenly a school girl being sent in for discipline. His power over her was absolute.
After a few moments, the tears started rolling down her cheeks. She didn’t know why she was crying. The pain was greater, but she knew he was holding back, his intent not to damage or traumatize her. She cried for everything and nothing, but physical pain was the least of it. She cried for her lost little life that hadn’t been glamorous but had been comfortable. She cried for the things she hadn’t realized were such big holes until she had the facsimile of the thing-family. And love. She cried for the fake engagement she wished meant something, for her love for Leo that she didn’t think he’d ever return, for how low she’d sunk to be so desperate for him after everything-to allow him to do these things to her when he’d given her a chance to take her freedom and go. For the shame of knowing she would allow him to debase her in any way if there was some small chance he might later love her in return.
“Let it out, sweetheart. You need a good cry.” He switched from the paddle to the flogger. She jumped when the leather cords snapped across her back, and immediately her mind went to Leo’s scars, and she tensed again.
He must have guessed where her mental trail was going because he said, “It’s not a bull whip. Relax. I won’t break your skin.”
Water. The thought stole into her mind, with his voice attached. Though he hadn’t audibly said the word, she knew he must be thinking it. For this moment she felt as if she could read his thoughts, as if some magic now flowed between them and connected them in a way that made telepathy not only possible, but pedestrian.
The sting of the flogger didn’t feel pleasant, but it wasn’t a kind of pain that a person winced and pulled away from. It was a kind of pain you moved closer to, tested and pushed, more curious to experience the sensation without judgment because it wasn’t bad enough to seek to avoid right away. The hypnotic, repetitive strikes created a sense of space around her, a solitude where she could allow the rest of her tears to flow out in safety.
By the time she’d let everything out, things she hadn’t realized she was holding in so emotionally, her back and bottom were warm and almost pleasantly numb. She still didn’t fully understand the appeal-at least not in a sexual way-but it was cathartic. She got that part. And despite the fears that had lurked in her subconscious in a place she hadn’t been able to access them before, now she knew, it wasn’t like the beatings she’d taken as a child, and never could be. Leo wasn’t him.
When she realized the pain wasn’t intensifying or angry, but instead leveled out and faded, she faded with it, flowing along the sensation, allowing it to wrap around her, floating. She didn’t notice when he’d stopped until she felt the coldness of new lubricant on glass. Her body responded more quickly this time to the pleasure, grateful for it, lapping it up-desperate to please him.
He used the wider phallus again and increased the pace, pressing down on her back so she couldn’t rise up. His message was clear: he would be controlling the exact sensations she received. She would come on his terms or not at all. That realization sent an uncharacteristic flutter of something warm and electric through her stomach.
“Please… please… please…”
He stopped and untied her.
“No… please…” She thought untying meant he was done with her. Was he breaking his promise? Only teasing her again?
He chuckled but rolled her onto her back. Having the leather press against her back and bottom, stung, but she took deep breaths until it dissipated.
“Spread your legs,” he growled.
She obeyed the command, thankful and eager to have him touch her more. He fucked her with the toy as he lowered his mouth to her clit, licking and sucking on it until the dual sensations built to the point of explosion.
Faith moaned as she came against his mouth, squirming despite how sensitive her back was. He pulled away from her as her orgasm ebbed. She lay trembling from the force of it until he picked her up and carried her to the bed.
“Lie on your stomach.”
She didn’t have the will to do anything else. He rummaged through the black bag and came out with a salve that he rubbed onto her wrists and gently massaged into her back and bottom. When he was finished, he pulled her into his arms and she lay against his shoulder, sobbing.
She’d thought she’d been done. She didn’t know where more tears had come from, or why. There were too many feelings and emotions to name. She was beginning to see why this appealed to those women, why Leo being like this had appealed to them. The feeling of complete helplessness and fear followed by a rush of endorphins and safety activated some primal code that made no sense to her but worked with the same reliability as the rising and setting of the sun. It was the code that activated bad boy attraction and the desire for the most inappropriate and doomed romance to work.
He stroked her back while she cried and continued to hold her when she was finished.
“You did very well, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you.”
She flushed at his words and knew she really had walked through the door this time. Though it hadn’t physically hurt as much as she’d thought it would, it had overwhelmed her. And these were the baby steps. The beginning. She shuddered in his arms at that thought, and he held her more tightly.
After a few minutes of silence, he helped her stand and guided her across the room. When he removed her blindfold, she was in front of the mirror. He stood behind her, his hands on her shoulders, urging her to take a look. Her face was like the faces of those women. Serene. Older. Wiser. Peaceful. Satisfied.
He turned her body to show her the marks he’d left: mostly redness with a few light stripes from the flogger. She ran her fingers over the stillwarm flesh and stared, mesmerized. She felt his absence when he stepped away to turn off the record player, but was grateful to feel his hand in hers again as he wrapped her in the blanket from the bed and led her up the stairs.
What if Demetri or other members of the household staff were lurking around? They would know what she and Leo had done. It was obvious she was naked under the blanket. Why else would she be wrapped in it? But their trip to his bedroom was uneventful. It was late and the staff had retired to their part of the house, and Demetri with them. Most of the electricity was off, with only a few strategic lamps left on to light their way.
When they reached Leo’s room, he took the blanket off her and helped her into bed, tucking her in. He kissed her lightly on the forehead. “I’ll be right back.”
She nodded.
The way he looked at her… she resolved she would allow him to do anything he wanted without complaint if it meant he would always look at her like that. She’d seen desire in his eyes before. She’d seen kindness and anger and sadness. But she’d never seen this look he had now. She didn’t want to be foolish and call it love, but it was a strong fondness and affection, the kind that made her melt inside at being the recipient of such a gaze.
Leo returned a few minutes later, the cats and Max slipping in behind him before he shut the door. He held a tray with water and some cheese and crackers and fruit. He got in bed and shoved the food toward her.
“Eat something. It will help you feel more grounded.”
The light snack did help to bring her back to reality and the world of solid three-dimensional things. He set the tray on the table beside the sofa, undressed, and climbed into bed with her. She assumed they would sleep, but he was erect again-no doubt from everything they’d done in the dungeon.
He guided her down the length of him, and she took him into her mouth again, pleasuring him until he was satisfied.