Page 134 of Gilded Locks

“Four.”

She swallowed back another hiss as another syringe emptied into her. Ash worked around her right shoulder blade, each injection spreading blessed numbness through the area. By the time he placed the last injection, she felt nothing at all.

“Can you feel this?” Hunter asked, tracing a finger down her back.

“No.” Her voice came out steadier than she felt.

Stone appeared holding a strip of soft leather. “For your protection. Something to bite into.”

Her gaze dropped to the strap, memories of Whitmore flashing to the forefront of her mind. She didn’t want to bring that ugliness into this beautiful moment, but there it was. A part of her.

“Give her a minute,” Hunter said, sensing her hesitation.

She gave the trauma the space it deserved, recalling how the doctors and orderlies had to wrestle her down and force her submission. But there was no force here. She remembered them shoving that rubber mouthguard between her teeth and tightening straps to her head. But she was completely unbound now. Free.

She looked back to Stone. “I’m ready now.”

“Open.”

The leather was butter-soft, nothing like the hard rubber that tasted of fear and chemicals. She breathed in the natural, wild scent, reminding her of many toys he’d used on her before. She clung to those memories, those moments of pleasure she controlled as much as him, and the images of her body bowing on a table, electricity coursing through her skull without her consent faded away.

This was not that. This was her choice. This was them, giving her exactly what she wanted.

Stone placed the leather strap between her teeth. “Good girl,” Stone murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple.

Such a profound difference. No gagging. No straining. No tears. At least not yet.

She bit down gently, accepting this small protection they offered.

Her vision blurred as the full weight of the moment settled over her. This was her decision. Her declaration. Her permanent claim on them as much as theirs on her.

She met each of their gazes in turn—Stone’s deep emerald stare, Hunter’s fathomless, intense stare, Ash’s comforting ice-blue eyes.

Then they lowered her onto her belly. She shivered as the cool silk sheets pressed against her heated skin.

“Still okay?” Hunter asked and she nodded, keeping her bite tight around the strap.

Ash took her left hand. Hunter mirrored the position on her right, stretching her arms out wide as she turned her head to rest on her cheek. Their touch anchored her. Kept her present and grounded against the turbulent emotions erupting inside.

“We’ve got you.” Hunter’s thumb traced circles in her palm. “We won’t let go.”

“Breathe,” Stone instructed. “Deep and steady. In through your nose, out through your mouth, around the leather.”

She heard the click of the heating element and smelled the metallic tang of hot iron mingling with the candle smoke. Her heart hammered, but not from fear. Her anticipation was for the transformation. She was claiming her life back, becoming the woman she was meant to be.

“Last chance,” Stone said softly. “You can still?—”

She squeezed Ash and Hunter’s hands, shaking her head firmly. The leather muffled her words, but the intent was clear.

“She’s good,” Ash said, speaking for her. “Do it.”

The first touch of heat made her whole body tense despite the anesthetic. Not quite pain, but pressure and warmth that went deeper than skin. She bit down harder on the leather, her pained groan intensified to a scream and their grip on her hands tightened.

One second. Three. Six. The pain mounted until her toes curled and her feet kicked. She sobbed into the leather, in agony, but also from the overwhelming perfection of it.

And then the pressure was gone, but the burn remained.

Stone worked with surgeon’s precision, treating the area with whatever salve he applied next.