by Julia Sykes
I blinked. “I don’t hate you.”
“You certainly give it a good go sometimes.”
I sighed, the tension leaving my muscles. “I guess I do. Sorry. I don’t do it on purpose.”
“Sure you do. You’re scared to be vulnerable around me, so you pretend to hate me instead.” He leaned in so his breath tickled across my ear. “But you don’t hate me at all, do you, pet?”
I bit my lip.
“Be honest with me. And be honest with yourself. We have to trust one another now.”
“No,” I admitted quietly. “I don’t hate you, Hugh. It’s just hard to be submissive after-” I stopped myself before I bared any more of my soul. Hugh wasn’t really my Dom. And he certainly wasn’t my lover any longer. He didn’t need to know about my past.
“After your ex hurt you,” he finished for me. I looked away. “We don’t have to talk about it today,” he said gently.
“We don’t have to talk about it ever,” I snapped. “You’re not really my Dom. It’s not up to you to fix me.” I felt painfully exposed. I couldn’t let him tear down any more of my walls. If I did, this D/s dynamic would become more than just a ruse. I didn’t think my heart could handle that. I was already confusing lust with affection. Sleeping with him had definitely been a mistake.
“What if I want to fix you?” he asked. “What if I’m wired that way? This arrangement of ours means I am your Dom, even if it is only temporary. As your Dom, it’s my job to nurture you just as much as it is to punish you. You can talk to me, Clara.”
“I know I can. That doesn’t mean I want to. Can we just get on with the caning?”
His lips turned down with distaste, but his eyes were creased with sadness.
“And don’t look at me like that,” I insisted sharply. “I don’t need your pity.”
“It’s not pity. It’s concern. And you do need it. It’s high time someone was concerned about you. You’ve been pretending to be fine for far too long.”
“And how would you know that?” I challenged.
“You followed a notorious mobster across the Atlantic with the intention of taking him out all by yourself. I’d say that kind of reckless behavior is cause for concern. The fact that your friends in New York let you get this far before sending Dex after you suggests to me that they had no idea just how much you need help.”
“The only help I need is for you to get me close to Dimitri.”
He shook his head in disappointment. “We really do need to work on your honesty, flower. I’m beginning to understand now, though. You spend more time lying to yourself than anyone else. That alone is the only reason I can excuse your deception. Otherwise, you would be on a plane back to America right now.”
“Or dead in the ground. You heard what Dex said about Dimitri killing me if I try to leave. It’s true.”
He cupped my face in both hands. “I’m not going to let him kill you. I’m not going to let him get his hands on you again.”
“We’re not talking about this,” I declared. “Just get the cane already.”
“If that’s really what you want.”
“It is,” I bit out.
He released me and stepped back. Cool air closed in around me, and I shivered. I watched him as he walked toward a black chest of drawers and selected a few items. My stomach twisted.
He held a pair of red leather cuffs. When he returned to my side, it took all my effort not to recoil from them.
“Are you all right?” he asked cautiously.
“Yes,” I lied, unwilling to admit my weakness. I could trust Hugh. He wouldn’t do anything bad to me. In his hands, the cuffs weren’t dangerous.
He regarded me carefully for a long moment. “Give me your wrists,” he finally commanded, his deep Dominant’s voice coming out. That made it easier to comply.
The first fur-lined cuff encircled my right wrist. I took a breath to center myself.
It’s soft. Not like the ones Dimitri put you in. You can do this. It’s Hugh. You’re safe with him.
A litany of reassurances ran through my head. I managed to remain outwardly calm as he buckled the other cuff around my left wrist. They seemed too tight, as though they were digging into my skin. But I knew Hugh wouldn’t do that.
He reached up and pulled a long length of chain down from where it hung from a ringbolt in the ceiling beam overhead. The clatter of metal on metal made the scent of damp concrete, stale sweat, and blood filled my nostrils. My own blood. It tasted coppery in my mouth. My teeth had cut my cheek when Dimitri’s men hit me.
“Clara?” Hugh’s voice called me away from the memory of the warehouse.
“I’m good,” I said, knowing what he needed to hear.
He clipped the end of the chain to the D-rings on each of the cuffs. Then he left my side to pull the chain. Slowly, my arms were drawn up over my head. He didn’t pull me so far that I couldn’t find my balance on the balls of my feet, though. I was restrained, but not uncomfortably so.
I’m fine. I’m safe.
I breathed deeply through my nose and exhaled through my mouth. I was stronger than my fear. I was stronger than that memory. Dimitri hadn’t broken me.
Hugh crossed back to the drawers to select a cane. I tried to keep my eyes on him, but they kept sliding out of focus. The room flickered around me.
Damp concrete, sweat, blood. Rattling chains. Charlotte whimpered beside me.
I gritted my teeth and shoved at the memory. It shoved back.
“If you want both, my boss is willing to cut a deal,” Dimitri’s man – Ivankov – said.
“I’m only in the market for one, but I’ll take a look,” the shockingly young man replied. On the surface, he appeared far too innocent to be considering buying a woman. He stopped in front of me and considered my naked body. My skin crawled, but I didn’t show my terror.
“This one is damaged,” he said with distaste, his eyes lingering on the black eye and split lip I had earned when I tried to fight off Dimitri’s men.
“Fuck you,” I seethed. “You can go straight to hell, you pathetic bastard. What kind of man needs to buy a woman?”
“She is spirited,” Ivankov remarked, not even looking at me. “A man could take great pleasure in breaking this one.”
My blood turned to ice in my veins. This wasn’t happening. These men weren’t going to break me.
The young man reached out a pale hand to grip my chin, and I lashed out, biting at him. “Don’t you fucking touch me!” I warned.
He recoiled with a frown. “I would have to scar her before she broke. I like my slaves intact.”
“Fine,” Ivankov snapped. “The other one, then.”
Charlotte! Not Charlotte, not her. She didn’t deserve this.
“Don’t you dare,” I hissed, twisting against the cuffs that held my body drawn tight. “You leave her alone. Do you hear me, you sick fuck? I’ll kill you!”
Charlotte was crying. The men were going over to her. He was touching her.
My fault. My fault.
“Clara! Clara, breathe.” His rumbling voice reached deep inside me, and my body complied with his order. “Again. That’s it. Breathe.”
I gasped and my eyes opened wide. I was no longer restrained, but the cuffs still encircled my wrists. My fingers flew to the buckles, scrabbling at the leather in a fumbling effort to remove them.
“Get them off!” I shouted.
Hugh’s arms tightened around me, and I struggled against him, feeling trapped.
“Let me go!”
“No. Calm down. I’ve got you. Here, let me help.” His sure, steady hands deftly unbuckled the cuffs. I snatched them away from him and flung them across the room with an angry shriek.
Hugh held me firmly, not giving me an inch to start fighting him. Impotent rage rode me hard, and the urge to claw someone’s eyes out was nearly overwhelming. He was my closest target. My fingernails bit into my palms with the effort of restraining myself.
It’s Hugh. N
ot Ivankov. Not Dimitri. Hugh.
He didn’t deserve my ire. I drew in a shuddering breath.
“Tell me what happened.”
“I just freaked out, okay?” I said defensively.
He remained implacable. “No. Tell me what happened that made you freak out. The cuffs triggered something. Was it your ex?”
I shook my head. Danny had certainly bound me at times when I was hesitant to try something, but that wasn’t what had caused my panic.
“Abramovich, then,” Hugh concluded.
I hesitated, but his deep blue eyes already stared into my soul. He knew the answer, and there was no point denying it. I nodded.
“What did he do to you?” he asked in a calm, soothing cadence. If it had been a hard order, I might have been able to resist him. But his unyielding concern broke me.
“I went after him,” I began quietly. “I thought I could maneuver him into a trap so the FBI could have enough evidence to go after his operation. Some of my Fed friends backed me up, but I went in alone with Charlotte. She’s just a civilian, but I convinced her I could take care of her.
“Dimitri didn’t want to make a deal with us. He decided to sell us instead. I fought with his men, but there were too many of them. By the time my friends realized something was wrong, we had already been moved to another warehouse. I had convinced them to hang back and give me time with Dimitri, and I refused to wear a wire. They didn’t know anything was wrong until it was too late. It was my fault that Charlotte was captured.”
“But your friends found you,” Hugh prompted me to continue.
“Charlotte’s husband came after her. He brought the other guys in with him. They all saw me…”
“How did they see you?” he asked gently.
“Dimitri’s men strung us up like meat. My friends saw me like that. Beaten, defeated. Helpless to save Charlotte. She was so scared, and there was nothing I could do.”
“She wasn’t the only one who was scared,” he said softly.
I stiffened, going on the defensive again. “What do you mean?”
“I mean you were scared, too. And it’s time you admitted it to yourself.”
“I was worried for her,” I said stubbornly. “And I was humiliated in front of everyone. I let them all down.”
He ran his fingers through my hair. “It’s okay to be afraid, Clara. Anyone would have been in that situation. It doesn’t mean you’re weak. Denying your feelings makes you weak.”
“I am not weak.”
“You don’t want to think of yourself that way,” he countered smoothly. “But until you accept your weaknesses, they will rule you. You tell yourself you’re strong, but you can’t see just how breakable that lie makes you.”
“No one’s going to break me,” I hissed. “Not Dimitri, and certainly not you.”
“I don’t want to break you. I want to help you.”
I stared up at him for a long minute. He waited for me to untangle my emotions. I wanted so badly to rage at him, to tell him he didn’t know the first thing about me. But I was coming to the discomfiting conclusion that he saw more of my true self than I did.
“I was scared,” I admitted on a whisper.
He gave me a little squeeze. “That’s okay. You’re safe now.”
“I know I am.” I’m with you, I added on in my mind, but I didn’t let the words pass my lips.
Chapter 12
Hugh allowed me a day to regroup after my emotional breakdown. Then, it was back to the private dungeon to “establish our dynamic.” I stood before him in identical plain white panties, this time with a matching boring white bra. I wasn’t sure if I chose to wear them for comfort or if because I secretly hoped he would be pleased with them. The way his eyes flared with hunger as he circled my nearly naked body made me suspect he was very pleased indeed. I tried to ignore the satisfaction that warmed my belly in response.
“Are you ready for the cane?” he asked. “I won’t restrain you this time.”
My brows rose. “You’re still going to punish me? What about all that touchy-feely sharing we did yesterday?”
One corner of his lips ticked up. “The touchy-feely sharing is part of the D/s process, too. So is training. And I’m going to teach you not to lie to me if it’s the last thing I do.”
“I thought you were punishing me for not telling you about the envelope,” I protested.
“Yes. Lies of omission seem to be your favorite. I’m putting a stop to that behavior right now. You get ten for hesitating to tell me about the envelope¸ and ten for not telling me about your vendetta against Dimitri until it suited your purposes.”
“Twenty?” I gasped.
“You’re getting off lightly, if you ask me.”
“I didn’t.”
He chuckled. “Cheeky. I’m starting to find that charming, too. It must be the innocent underwear.”
My mouth twitched, a smile itching to get out. “If they can charm you out of caning me, I’ll wear these underwear all the time.”
“Oh, it’s not just the panties, pet. And they won’t get you out of anything.” He shot me a savage grin. “I’d like to get you out of them.”
“Not happening,” I declared.
“All right then. Keep your armor.”
I snorted. “They’re cotton, not steel.”
“They’re your way of denying your vulnerability,” he corrected. “But they certainly won’t be much protection against a cane.” He gestured toward the St. Andrew’s Cross. “Let’s do like we did before. Hold on to the beams, and I won’t restrain you. We don’t have time to deal with your issues with bondage today.”
“We won’t be dealing with my issues at all. This is a working relationship, not a therapy session.”
“If that’s how you’d rather think of it,” he allowed easily.
I scoffed and headed toward the cross, deciding not to argue. In truth, our arrangement wasn’t at all professional. But it wasn’t personal, either. It was a means to an end.
You’re not being honest with yourself, a little voice that sounded annoyingly like Hugh’s whispered across my mind. Choosing to ignore it, I pressed my palms against the smooth cross beams and braced myself for the first hit.
Hugh didn’t give me much time to prepare. The first blow awoke a perfectly straight line of fire across my ass. I gasped at the shock of pain. My fingers curled around the sides of the cross, and I steeled myself for another. He shocked me again when only a light tap landed just below the first throbbing welt.
“Is that two?” I chanced the question.
“No, love. I’m just warming up.”
“Please tell me that was at least one.”
“The first one counts. Nineteen more to go.”
I groaned.
“That’s a lovely sound,” he remarked. “Just the right mix of dread and excitement.”
“I’m not excited.”
I shrieked when fire lashed at my thighs.
“That one doesn’t count, either,” he informed me calmly.
“What?”
“That one was for the lie. You are excited. You still have nineteen more to go. Now I suggest you stop talking or you’ll likely earn more. You seem incapable of telling the truth.”
“You’re driving me nuts with this lying stuff!” I flung at him.
Another hit, another scream.
“And that one was for your cheek. You really should consider silence, pet.”
I growled my irritation, but didn’t let any words slip through my clenched teeth.
The light tapping resumed. I exhaled in relief. While he wielded it with a gentle hand, soft warmth emanated out from everywhere the cane landed. The heat spread from my ass to my pussy, and my clit began to pulse in time with each light hit. I sighed and relaxed.
A line of fire was suddenly layered atop the warmth. I cried out, but not entirely in pain. The sensation was more interesting than simple discomfort. It helped focus my mind on the purely physical, qu
ieting my usual roiling thoughts. I spent so much time in the grip of anger that its absence was the sweetest relief.
Another punishing hit landed, and my mind quieted further. I forgot about my guilt. This time, I didn’t want Hugh to torture me for my sins. I couldn’t even think about my transgressions when the insistent rhythm of the cane kept me entranced. Just when I would fall into the regularity of the soft taps, he would shock me with a true hit. The unpredictability of it all delighted me. A throaty giggle bubbled up from my chest.
“That’s it,” I heard him rumble. “Let go, Clara.”
The sensations continued to assail me in a relentless onslaught. The heat sank into me, igniting a fire at my core that spread out to illuminate my entire being. My head dropped forward as I surrendered completely, giving myself over to the pure joy of this total abandon.
I was vaguely aware that the hits stopped, but I remained cocooned in warm bliss. His unique, heady scent enfolded me, and I let myself sink into his arms with a happy sigh. I didn’t bother to decipher his words, but they wrapped around me as he murmured to me soothingly. I turned my face into his chest and breathed him in.
“You’re very sweet like this, pet,” he told me. “I’d like to keep you this way.”
I blinked up at him slowly. “What do you mean?”
“I’m going to touch you now,” he said instead of answering. “I want your consent first.”
I nodded my agreement without a thought. Of course I wanted him to touch me. My pussy was still on fire for him.
He planted a swift kiss on my forehead and gripped the elastic band on my panties in one hand. The other remained braced around my back, holding me against his chest. I realized my ass throbbed and burned where it made contact with his thick erection.
I came back to myself a bit, looking around to assess my situation. Hugh held me across his lap on the red leather couch. We were still in the dungeon. I wondered how much time had passed since he first began to cane me. Everything turned fuzzy in my memory after the first few strokes.
My attention jerked back to him when he tugged my panties down my thighs, exposing my sex. Cool air brushed across my bare skin, contrasting beautifully with the heat between my legs.
