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She didn’t want or need the intimacies of a typical dynamic; she prepared herself the way she required, from her hair to the cuffs already hugging her wrists, and he was just fine with that.

Maybe one day she would find a Dominant who shattered all her carefully thought out routines and switched her submission from pleasing herself to satisfying a Dom’s wishes instead; today was not that day, and he was definitely not that Dom.

Merrick walked up to her, then continued past with a simple, “Come.”

Descending the steps like royalty, he checked his watch again and was pleased to see the timer on their two hours was about to begin. Not once did he glance behind him to see if she was at his heels; she had two choices after all, and his role here was simply to abide by the fantasy she’d ordered.

Knowing her preferences, Merrick veered toward the reserved section he’d booked in advance when she bought and paid for the time on his schedule. She enjoyed light pain on her front, but was positively masochistic when it came to taking a hellish punishment down her back.

The wooden suspension frame was handcrafted from fifty-year old oak, beautifully designed and finished. Every inch of it gleamed, from the support struts at either side to the high bar connecting them. Even the wooden feet bolted into the floor were shining as though someone had spent hours with a cloth and polish.

Chains hung from adjustable deadbolts in the wood, exactly where he’d asked Fordham to set them earlier. Even though his friend had kindly organized the scene for him, Merrick took a few minutes to double check every element of the equipment for his own piece of mind.

Satisfied, he finally faced his client, keeping his face deadpan. “Welcome back, Gayle.”

“Thank you, sir.”

She presented herself exactly as she had at the top of the stairs, only standing this time.

Merrick raked his gaze over her, not in appreciation as he had before Tamsyn wandered into his life, but in assessment. As far as he could tell, she seemed in better physical shape than she had a couple months ago; carrying a bit more weight in the right areas, toned up in others. “Remind me of your safeword system, Gayle.”

“Red means too soft. Yellow is I can take harder. Green stands for go to town on me.” Her lips curved because he did this every time. “Cotton candyis my actual safeword, sir.”

That hadn’t changed, at least. Nodding, he gestured for her to find her mark beneath the chains. One thing he enjoyed about her was the fact she didn’t expect a great deal of conversation from him. “When you’re ready, arms up. Balance yourself with your feet hip-width apart.”

Her hand reached up to toy with the end of her braid as she went through the motion of inhaling slowly, exhaling softly, until her already serene expression deepened. After a couple of minutes, her chin lowered and she drifted forward as though she was at the end of the scene instead of the beginning.

Merrick wondered if Tamsyn might one day be so relaxed within the club. If she’d trust him so explicitly, even more than she did now, that she would obey his every word with calm grace and excitement.

It wasn’t Gayle who occupied his thoughts as his palms stroked along her forearms to capture the cuffs and snap the D-rings to the quick release hooks on the chains. It wasn’t his client holding court in his head as he nudged her feet a little wider apart with his boot.

It sure as fuck wasn’t the trim, fit body of a paying sub he saw when he stepped back to plan the course of the next two hours.

His obsession with Tamsyn was so fucking intense, she was all he damn well saw.

Merrick made sure the cuffs weren’t too tight once Gayle was secure, pleased with her choice of sheepskin-lined restraints. A wise choice, considering her job. Skimming his hands down her sides, he nudged her hips gently—she swayed but kept her balance.

Crossing over to the rack on the wall, softly illuminated by a trio of spotlights, he ran his fingers across the selection of some of his favorite implements. Tawse, crop, the devil’s tail butt plug he’d found on a very interesting website. A chain link flogger, rug beater paddle, along with the usual array of toys this particular client calledpedestrian.

Humming under his breath, he chose a rubber handled flogger, testing the grip with a few practice swings. A dozen ten-inch leather falls would warm her skin and wake up the muscles beneath while giving her the first taste of pain she craved.

Way Down We Goby Kaleo started playing through the speakers built in beneath the viewing gallery, just loud enough for the beat to work its way under Merrick’s skin and set his arm into motion. He didn’t need to tap his foot to the beat; the first stroke of the flogger over Gayle’s shoulders was all he required.

The falls connected on every fourth beat, light enough to coax her body into the flow without causing her damage… yet. For the length of the song, he worked her from shoulders to thighs, encouraging the blood to rise beneath her skin and sensitivity to increase.

When the song switched to Three Days Grace’sAnimal I Have Become, Merrick upped his game to a heavier flogger designed for additional thud behind his swings. The grunt of exertion she gave him when the knotted tips pattered firmly over her shoulders was sweet as hell.

His own body finally loosened up and let his shoulders utilize their full range of motion. As the music flipped from Disturbed’sGod of the Mindinto Orgy’sOpticon, his full attention was on the woman in front of him—or more accurately, the canvas he was quickly painting a shade of dark, lush pink.

She was glowing, her skin heated and ready to step things up a notch.

“Red, Master Merrick.”

There was the signal. A remote part of his brain assessed everything from how fast she was breathing to the position of her feet and legs as he exchanged the flogger for a crop. As the music faded in his head until just the beat remained, he used the thick square of leather on the end of the toy to thwack her shoulders, peppering her skin with sharp, fast blows where he couldn’t harm her.

Slowly, he worked his way around her, crossing to the front while maintaining the same rhythmic motion. The leather kissed her upper arms and chest lightly before biting into the flesh of her breasts and snapping at the rigid peaks of her nipples. Down over her flat stomach, the curve of her hips, the meat of her thighs.

She moaned quietly, her face slack with bliss.