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Good girl.
I move behind her, running the leather falls of a flogger down the exposed skin of her back. Not striking. Just letting her feel the weight of it as she shudders.
"Breathe," I command softly.
She does.
I trail the flogger lower, across the curve of her ass, between her thighs. Her body is taut, waiting for something, bracing for it. I give her what she’s waiting for.
The first strike is featherlight, barely more than a whisper against her skin. She gasps, her fingers curling into the cushion. The second is firmer.
Her back arches.
"Still with me?" I ask, my voice low.
"Yes."
I reward her with another.
Her body hums beneath my touch, instinctively seeking more even as she fights the surrender.
"Good girl," I murmur, dragging my hand over the warmed skin where the flogger landed. She trembles at the contact, her body betraying her once again.
I lean over her, my chest pressing lightly against her back. "Now, tell me what you’re feeling."
She hesitates, her breath coming fast. "I don’t know."
I smile against her ear. "You do. Say it."
She swallows hard. "Alive."
That wasn’t the answer I was expecting. I pull back, studying her. Her eyes are still closed, her lips parted, her body buzzing with the aftermath of submission. She’s beautiful like this.
And I am completely fucked. I step away before I do something I can’t take back. “Come with me,” I say quietly and lead her up to the lounge, taking a seat and moving a floor pillow between my legs, nodding to it.
She doesn’t have to be told. She sinks onto the pillow and rests her head against my thigh. She needs to feel this. To understand what submission really is. That it isn’t weakness. It isn’t about losing control—it’s about giving it, and for the first time in the dungeon, I see her do just that.
She shifts slightly, finding a more comfortable position, never moving her head. I stroke her hair with my hand, absently. She finally looks up, her green eyes filled with something I don’t quite expect. Curiosity. "Say something," she murmurs, her voice hoarse.
I take my time before I respond. "You liked that."
A shiver runs through her, barely perceptible. "I didn’t say that."
"You didn’t have to."
I watch as she swallows, her throat working, her mind trying to piece together what just happened between us. She’s overwhelmed. She’s exhilarated. And she has no idea what the hell to do with those emotions.
Which is exactly why I have to stop this.
I stand, more slowly this time, scrubbing a hand through my hair to steady myself. "Cherise... we can’t let this go any further."
Her brow pulls together, confusion flashing across her face. "What?"
"This," I say, motioning between us, between whatever this current is that keeps pulling us closer, tighter. "It has to stop. Before it costs us both more than we can afford."
Her mouth parts, disbelief softening the anger that’s starting to rise. "Excuse me?"
"You’re not getting dragged deeper into this," I say, my voice low but firm. "You did enough bringing me the intel. You did more than enough surviving everything they threw at you. Let me handle it from here."