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“N ervous, Gem?”

Déjà vu struck her. The last time he’d asked her that, she hadn’t been.

This time it was a different story.

“Who me?” she countered as she glanced around the club.

He shot her a look, then slid his arm around her. “You’re nervous.”

Fuck.

He could read her far too easily.

Two months had passed since she was kidnapped and beaten.

She’d spent that time resting and recuperating.

Laken had insisted that she take time off and she’d decided to listen to her. She’d moved into Renard’s apartment and while it wasn’t perfect, she’d managed to warm it up and make it look less like a motel room.

There were now fluffy cushions on the couch, rugs on the floor, and pretty bowls sitting on the kitchen counter.

She wanted to say that she had easily recovered and gone on as normal. Unfortunately, that wasn’t true.

Her nightmares had gotten worse before they’d gotten better. And the reason they’d gotten better was due to Molly, Jake’s wife. Talking to her had helped more than she’d thought possible. Doctor Susie’s books were good, but they weren’t enough to help with her trauma.

She’d told Molly everything.

And now she felt . . . lighter.

Renard had tried to talk her out of coming here tonight. But enough was enough. She was healthy. Her head was in a good place.

It was time to play again.

And she knew that Renard needed to play. He was wound up so tight. She just wasn’t sure if he’d play with her. Not in the way that he needed.

He started to lead her toward the play area with the desk, clearly thinking she’d want to do some naughty schoolgirl, strict principal roleplay. But she refused to move, shaking her head at him as he turned to look at her.

“Not tonight.”

He raised an eyebrow. “No naughty student, strict principal?”

Opal shook her head.

“Hmm. How about naughty employee, strict boss?”

Again, she shook her head. He watched her closely.

“Daddy and baby girl?”

She sucked in a breath. Did she want that?

Not exactly.

“No, Daddy.” She managed a smile. “You’re my sexy Daddy. And I love it when you take care of me. But I need something else.”

“Hmm. Pet play?”

She shook her head and pointed over at the St. Andrews cross.

“Nope.” He folded his arms over his chest.

“You need this. I can tell. You’re wound up tight.”

“Nope.”

“You do.”

“Even if I did,” he allowed. “Doesn’t mean I’m doing it with you.”

She closed her eyes.

“Fuck. I won’t touch anyone else, I swear, baby.” He drew her close.

“No, it’s not that,” she told him, opening her eyes. “I don’t mind if you scene with someone else. As long as I’m there and you’re not touching them like you touch me.”

“Never,” he told her fiercely. “There is no one but my girl.”

“I know. And your girl needs to give you this. But I also think I might need this. And you know what you promised.”

“Opal, I don’t know if I can.”

She glanced up into his face. “Is it that different from when you paddled me two nights ago?”

His face darkened. “You hadn’t eaten all day. You deserved that punishment.”

“I skipped lunch today,” she whispered.

His eyes flared. “You did what?”

“And I didn’t drink enough water today.”

“You brat.”

“I’m strong enough for this. I promise.”

Renard cupped her face with his hands. “This isn’t about your strength. I know how fucking strong you are. I see it every day. But I don’t want to add to your nightmares. I don’t want you to feel pain and think of him and it’s me who is giving you that pain!”

She placed her hands over his. “I won’t be. All I will be thinking is that my man loves me enough to give me what I need. I don’t want a lot of pain. Just a kiss of it. Can you give me that?”

“You know I can.”

“So give me it. Please.”

He seemed to be thinking about it and she held her breath. Then he nodded. “Fine.”

Her breath eased out of her.

“But you will say your safeword immediately if you need to and I’m going to have Saxon monitor you. Also, we’re going to have a chat about you waiting until we got here to bring this up.”

Uh oh.

“Couldn’t this be considered a chat?” she asked.

“No. It couldn’t.”

Well. Hell.

* * *

Ten minutes later, she found herself secured to the St Andrews Cross with her arms and legs bound. Her wrists were loosely bound, and she knew he was remembering the bruises on her wrists from where Barney had tied her.

Barney who had been remanded without bail and would stand trial next year.

But she didn’t want to think about him right now.

She had been wearing a tight, short dress, but he’d made her take it off so all she now had on was a G-string and bra. She’d offered to take the bra off, but Renard had gotten all possessive.

He covered her back, his hands coming around to play with her nipples. She moaned as he worked her into a state. One hand dropped to slide under her panties to play with her clit.

“You ready, baby?”

“Yes, Sir,” she said. She didn’t call him Sir often. But this moment seemed to call for it.

“That’s my good girl. Saxon is going to stay close to watch you. Say your safeword if you need to.”

And then he was moving away and she heard the whip crack. It made her jump and Saxon moved into her eyesight. She knew Renard was cracking it on purpose to test her resolve.

So she gave Saxon a nod and he nodded over at Renard.

And then the whip landed without warning. A hiss left her mouth at the sharp sting. And for a brief moment she thought about using her safeword. How could she take more of that?

But then the sting morphed into something else. The pain settled, the warmth grew and she relaxed.

The whip stung again. There was that sting that became more.

Her head started to swim. She lost track of how often the whip landed. All she knew was the headiness of being able to relax and forget. To swim in a strange sort of pleasure. Was this what it was like to sit on a warm beach, with nothing but the sun and the sea? Nothing to worry about or do?

Finally, all thought left her.

And she just was.

“She’s in subspace,” a quiet voice said.

Shh. Go away.

“Got there fast.”

Why were they interrupting her? She whimpered.

“Easy, baby. I have you. You’re safe with me. I’m here.”

“Renard,” she whispered.

“That’s me. Can you open your eyes?”

She forced them open, looking around. She was lying on her stomach on a sofa with something warm over her. Renard was crouched in front of her, looking worried.

“Is she all right?” Saxon asked. “Do you need something?”

Renard’s frown deepened as he gave her some water. She drank greedily before pulling back to grin at him.

What. A. High.

“Well, hellooo, Daddy, or should I call you Whip Daddy? I think that’s gonna be your new name.”

A smile broke out on his face. “Yeah. She’s good.”

Better than good. She was with him.

So she was fucking perfect.

“I wanna suck your cock, please.”

Saxon chuckled. “Think this is my cue to leave you both.”

“Please,” she begged.

“No. not yet.”

“Please, Renard? I’m ready. I’m so ready. You’ve made me wait so long.” She’d barely been allowed to do more than lick it. It was so mean.

“Made you wait? Fuck, baby, you think it hasn’t been torture having you play with me? Experiment? Lick and tease me? Torture. But the first time you make me come with your mouth is not going to be with other people around. And it is definitely not going to be after I just whipped you and you’re swimming on the edge of subspace. Understand?”

“So bossy.”

“You want a spanking on top of what just happened?”

“That would be no.”

“Then behave yourself.”

She grinned. “Hmm, that doesn’t sound like much fun.”

* * *

Renard walked in the door of his apartment and felt a warmth fill him.

That didn’t happen before Opal. He’d dreaded coming back to this place.

It had felt cold and dark.

Now, it was lighter. Happier. It still wasn’t somewhere he wanted to live forever. But it felt more like a home.

And that had nothing to do with the cushions or the throw over the back of the couch. He’d wondered why the hell they needed a throw until he’d come home one night to her curled up under it with a cup of hot chocolate in hand, reading a book.

Then he’d known.

Because she’d looked so damn cosy and happy and content.

He’d put up with a million fluffy cushions and blue throws for that. Well, apparently it was teal but who the fuck cared?

Looked blue to him.

He frowned when he found she wasn’t on the couch. Was she in bed? Shit. Did she have a headache?

She’d only had one bad headache while he was with her and he hadn’t liked it one bit. She’d had to take to her bed in the dark with absolute quiet. The next day, he’d had her at the doctor to get that shit fixed.

While Jenna couldn’t fix things entirely, she had prescribed a pill that should help as long as his girl took it as soon as she felt a headache coming on. But while she could now handle pills being in the apartment, she still had trouble taking them when on her own.

It was something she was working on with Molly.

“Opal?” he called out.

“Coming, Chef.”

She stepped out of the bedroom, dressed in a chef’s apron.

And nothing else.

His mouth dropped open. “What are you doing, Gem?”

“Well, I thought I would use what I’ve learned from our cooking lessons to make you dinner.”

He’d been giving her regular cooking lessons. And she had actually come a long way.

“You cooked me dinner naked?” he barked. She could have burned her bare skin like that!

“Nope. I cooked you while fully dressed, then I stripped to get ready for when you came home.” She took hold of his hand and led him to the small dining table. “Sit.”

He sat, noticing that the table was set for one.

“Aren’t you eating?” he asked, not liking that. He needed to keep on top of her eating habits, or she tended to skip meals.

“Oh, I’m going to eat,” she purred, setting down his plate of food before getting onto her knees next to him. “I want to eat you.”

Ahh. He got it now. He hadn’t let her suck him off after that scene at the club, but he knew she wouldn’t wait much longer. But what she didn’t understand is that she didn’t get to set the narrative.

She wasn’t in charge.

“Did you eat some food?” He glanced over the spaghetti bolognaise and garlic bread.

Simple, but if done well, it tasted delicious.

“No.”

“No,” he growled. “Why not?”

“Too nervous. Please let me suck on you while you eat.”

“No.” He lifted her into his lap, ignoring her pout. “You’re going to eat with me and then if you’re a good girl, I might let you suck on me.”

“Really? Until you come?”

“We’ll see.”

“Please. Pretty please,” she begged.

“Eat.”

He fed her and himself.

“Is it good?” she asked once he was finished.

“Baby, this is fantastic. You did such a good job. I’m so proud of you.” He kissed her lightly. Then he deepened the kiss.

“Good enough for you to let me make you come?” she asked eagerly.

He stood with her in his arms and carried her to the sofa. Then he sat with her on his lap, facing him. He undid the apron, pulling it off her. Then he cupped the side of her face. “When you’re sucking on me, who do you see?”

“Just you. Only you.”

“Do you think of him? Do you feel pressured? Do you zone out?”

“There’s no chance of zoning out when you keep stopping me to check in. I’d rather you just take control.”

“I know you would. But I don’t want you to feel like you’re having to do this. Like you’re being forced to.”

“But that’s not the way we are, the way we play, is it? Because if I ever don’t want to do something, I say my safeword.”

“Promise me you’ll say it,” he said firmly.

“I will. I promise.”

“Because if you don’t?—”

“I’ll be in big trouble. I know,” she said.

He narrowed his eyes, making his face stern. “You sassing me, girl?”

She straightened. “No, Sir!”

“You better not be, because you know what happens to naughty girls in my kitchen. What happened to you the last time you were naughty in my kitchen?”

“I got spanked with a wooden spoon.”

“I am happy to go get that wooden spoon right now, missy.”

Her hands went behind to protect her bottom as she shook her head. “I don’t want you to spank me, Chef!”

“Then you’ll have to show me how sorry you are.” He grabbed one of those fluffy cushions and dropped it onto the floor between his feet.

She slid onto her knees in front of him.

Fuck. So damn hot.

“I’m really a good girl, Chef.”

He snorted. “Well, you need to show me that.” He took off his pants, drawing them and his boxers down. Then he stripped off his shirt.

Opal licked her lips as she took him in. “You are so damn hot.”

“Is that anyway to speak to your superior, girl?”

“Sorry, Chef!”

“I think I need that wooden spoon.”

“No, no, Chef! I’ll be a good girl.”

“Show me. Suck on my cock.”

God. She was so good at it. She took him deep and her mouth was so warm and hot.

Fucking heaven.

Reaching down, he drew her off his cock. Cupping her chin, he forced her to look up at him.

“Who are you sucking?”

“You, Chef.”

“Who, baby?”

“You, Renard.”

“Then get sucking again.”

She took him deep. And, holy fuck, it was all he could do not to come in her mouth then and there.

He closed his eyes for a moment to try and calm himself.

It didn’t work.

After checking in with her a few more times, he knew he couldn’t hold back and as much as he wanted to come in her pussy, he knew that she needed this.

Maybe they both did.

It was time that Stefan left her the fuck alone and if sucking him to completion helped with that . . . then he’d just have to be the sacrifice, wouldn’t he?

“Baby, baby. I’m going to come. Suck me down. That’s it. Fuck!” he groaned as he came.

Mind. Blown.

He wasn’t sure that he’d ever come so hard in his life, and he had to take some deep breaths to calm himself as she drew off his dick.

Reaching down, he lifted her onto his lap and grasped hold of her chin.

“Baby, you good?”

“Yeah,” she whispered, gazing up at him with a soft smile. “You good?”

“Best I’ve ever been,” he replied. “And not because you just sucked my dick. But because you make everything better. You make my life complete. Don’t like flowery fucking words and shit. But I fucking love you.”