Page 29 of Madness & Mercy

Good.

I’m in the mood for a chase.

“That’s enough for today,” I mutter, letting the crop fall to my side as she crumples to the floor, trembling and breathless.Six strikes.That’s all it took to leave her wrecked, spine bowed in submission, sweat dripping down her flushed skin.

I bet he would last longer.

“Thank you, Master,” she breathes, her voice soft and wrecked with pleasure.

I stare down at her, detached. I can’t even remember her name. That’s rare for me. Shitty,even. I’m usually more considerate. At Nocturne I have a reputation to uphold. Most sought-after Dom in the place. A waiting list a mile long. But tonight?

Tonight, I can’t feel a fucking thing.

Not with her. Not with anyone.

Because all I can think about is him.

My boots echo against the polished floor as I leave the girl kneeling in the corner, her soft breaths fading behind me. My eyes stay fixed on the dark figure at the edge of the lounge—

leaning casually against the bar in the VIP section, cigarette hanging from his lips—like he fucking belongs here.

He meets my gaze like he’s been waiting for it. No fear. No shame. Just that smug little tilt of his head, those maddening eyes glinting with challenge beneath the low lights, as if to say,“You really thought you could trap me?”

Arrogant bastard.

I cut across the floor like a blade, ignoring the stares as I move. I don’t stop. I don’t hesitate. I grab his wrist in a bruising grip and yank him off the barstool.

He doesn’t resist, doesn’t even flinch as I drag him through the corridors—past the curious stares, past the velvet curtains and pulsing walls—until I shove open the door to one of the private rooms and slam it shut behind us.

He barely has time to blink before I pin him against the wall, my forearm across his chest, my breath hot between clenched teeth.

“What thefuckare you doing here?” I snarl.

He smirks.

“I could say the same to you,master.”

“Shut the fuck up,” I growl under my breath. “How the hell did you get out?”

Julian smiles like he’s enjoying this way too much.

“Chef was clumsy,” he says. “Left the door unlocked.”

I step closer, every inch of me coiled tight.

“Try again.”

He shrugs, unbothered. “Maybe I got bored. Decided to pay mygracious hosta visit.”

I push him harder against the wall, my breath brushing his cheek.

“You got a death wish, is that it?”

He grins wider.

“Starting to think I’m not the only one.”

My fist slams into the wall beside his head, mere inches from his face.