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I couldn’t even force myself to look at Miranda or Shawn. I couldn’t pull my eyes off Simon. He’d removed his glasses at some point, and his light brown hair fell over his forehead, but nothing could tear my gaze away from the flogger in his hand, the red marks now covering Chloe’s ass, the way she arched into each smack, or her blissed-out expression.

I shivered again and moaned. “Please, Bennett. Sir. Touch me.”

He moved quickly but quietly, shuffling us backward until he hit the wall and then slid his hands down my pants.

My god, I was going to get off watching a woman get beaten and I wasn’t the least bit disgusted. I continued watching, focused on Simon when he knelt next to Chloe and pushed hair off her cheeks, tucking it behind her ear. He spoke to her in quiet murmurs and her expression blossomed into one of unmitigated happiness. She tugged against her bindings...he moved.

Bennett’s hand slid down my pants to my center and he groaned in my ear. “You’re fucking drenched.”

“Please,” I mewled, pressing into his finger at my clit. “Touch me please.”

“You fucking love this.”

“I shouldn’t.”

“You should enjoy anything you want as long as it’s consensual.”

Damn it. He always made it seem so simple.

Simon and Chloe continued playing. The clink of the handcuffs, the hiss of the flogger. Coupled with Bennett’s finger at my clit, I lost all inhibitions.

I’d gone from someone thinking this abuse to someone who not only enjoyed it, but couldn’t imagine my life without it.

Bennett had taught me to drop my perceptions, to explore, to come to my own conclusions.

And as I climaxed, splintering quietly and digging my nails into Bennett’s forearms and bucking wildly against him, I lost focus on everyone in the room except the man at my back.

He wanted me at his side and at his knees. And I wanted him, for as long as I could possibly have him.

“Glorious,” he whispered in my ear. “So fucking beautiful. I will never get enough of you. But I also want you to myself.”

“Please,” I whispered. “Get me out of here.”

He laughed huskily and quietly. Moving us backward, he opened the door and closed it behind us.

“Will they—” I started to ask, but Bennett stopped me by tugging me down the stairs. At the bottom, our coats and shoes and my purse were already laid out.

“They won’t even notice until they’re done playing, I guarantee it.”

“But—”

He kissed me quiet. “I also told them I’d take you out of there. I wanted you to see it, not all of it, and soon the four of them will spend hours together. I want you to myself.” He cupped my cheeks. “I want you to myself, for a very long time, Rebecca.”

Oh God. I searched his gaze and saw everything. Every emotion he saw on my face earlier, reflected at me on his.

And that was when I knew.

I wasn’t falling in love with him.

I already was in love with him.

“Okay Bennett,” I said, letting him help me into my coat. “Take me home, then.”