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I slide my fingers over the column of her throat, feeling the rapid flutter of her pulse. "Good girl."
Her pupils dilate at the praise.
I lead her toward the platform, stopping just at the edge where the Dom is finishing his demonstration. The audience murmurs their approval as the scene ends, the submissive’s body still shivering from the impact, her eyes glassy with pleasure.
I turn to Cherise, my fingers tracing the delicate line of her arm. "Your turn."
She inhales sharply; her gaze snapping to mine. "Nick?"
"Trust me."
Her hands clench at her sides, and I know she’s fighting herself. But then, with a slow, measured breath, she nods.
I step onto the platform, my presence commanding immediate attention. The crowd stills, eyes tracking my every movement.
Cherise stands before me, hesitant but proud, her chin lifted in defiance even as she submits.
I reach for the flogger, testing its weight, making sure she watches the way I handle it.
"Turn around and take hold of the cross," I instruct. She hesitates only a second before obeying. I loosen her corset, and she grasps at it as it begins to fall away. “Hands on the cross or I’ll put you in restraints facing the audience.”
“Bastard,” she hisses.
"Good girl," I murmur again, just to see her reaction. Her breathing falters.
I move behind her, letting the leather strands whisper over her shoulders, her back, not striking yet—just letting her feel the anticipation, the possibility.
"Nick," she murmurs, her voice unsteady.
"Shh," I soothe. "Let me show you what this can be. Let me help you get rid of the tension that is riddling your body. Let go." And then I strike. Not hard. Just enough to awaken her skin, to send a sharp, tingling heat radiating outward. She gasps, her body tense, but she doesn’t pull away.
Another stroke. Firmer this time.
She shudders, her lips parting, her body swaying toward me instead of away.
I let the flogger drag over the back of her thighs, watching her tremble. "Still with me?"
She nods; her voice breathless. "Yes."
I lean in, letting my breath brush her neck. "Good."
The next strike lands perfectly across the backs of her thighs, and she moans before she can stop herself. Her reaction is immediate. Raw. Pure need.
And fuck, I feel it too. My blood is on fire, my cock already hard at the sound of her surrender.
I drop the flogger, spinning her to face me, my hands gripping her waist, pulling her against me. Her pupils are blown wide, her breath shaky.
"You feel it now, don’t you?" I murmur.
She swallows, her fingers gripping my shirt. "I—I don’t...”
I catch her chin, tilting her face up. "Don’t lie to me, Cherise."
Her chest heaves, and for a second, I think she’ll deny it, but then she licks her lips, her body betraying her. "Yes," she whispers.
And just like that, I know. She’s mine—at least for the duration of the fight. I surprise myself as the thought crosses my mind: if I play my cards right, if I can keep her alive, maybe for much longer than that.
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