“Breathe,” he said.
Colleen did. She inhaled through her nose and out her mouth, and she was so intent on the pattern of her breath that the next stripe on her butt was only a quick burn. She didn’t even gasp.
“Good,” Twist said. “We’ll continue.”
More snaps bit her ass. Some were light pinches, hardly more than a slap. Other blows were harder, scalding her skin and hurting deeper in her flesh.
Colleen took them all. She held the cold rails in her hands, taking them in because she was an empty void he filled with pain, and pain was better than feeling empty.
Several times, he asked, “What do you say?”
A small part of her brain, the bit that was shrieking about what she should and what she ought to be doing and thinking, screamed that he was fishing for her safe words and she should tell him yellow. No, she should tell him red.
Colleen said, “Yes, please.”
He continued. He continued until the flashes of pain bled into each other and faded, and her breath rushed through her nose and out her mouth and the metal was cold under her palms.
The stripes of pain led her through the gray fog, and it parted into darkness.
Sometime later, a metallic clang broke the air as if a copper mixing bowl had dropped onto the tile floor.
A smooth, soft band encircled her head from behind, blindfolding her.
Colleen closed her eyes as the silk settled over her eyelids.
Rough hands grabbed her naked waist, spun her, and tackled her to the floor, holding the back of her skull so she didn’t hit her head. Warmth and sucking caressed her neck and then her breasts as she arched under him. Her mind still floated while he moved on top of her, his lips trailing between her breasts and then down her stomach, coming to rest between her thighs. He sucked and kissed her, his tongue rolling through her folds and finding her erect clit at the top. His hands found the raw flesh of her ass and lifted her hips, pressing her to his mouth as he devoured her like he was stripping the flesh off a peach with his lips and tongue to find the hard seed at the center and suck it into his mouth.
This time, when she tightened, he sucked harder, his fingertips digging into the backs of her thighs where he held her. She was gasping now, her measured breathing forgotten as every stroke of his tongue and caress of his lips drew her farther and harder, the pain from his fingertips on her ass only heightening the intensity.
With each quickening breath she gasped, “Yes, please. Yes, please.”
The empty pit of gray void that she’d been huddled at the bottom of for three years had been filled by pain, which had turned to fire, which was consuming her body and mind as she held onto the bars near her shoulders, and she arched her back as the tightening need detonated into waves of pleasure that coursed up her spine, flowed through her head, and dissolved her into nothingness.
She drifted, riding the waves, gasping.
Then exhaustion.
Movement.
Movement of her arms and her body. Sudden warmth shrouded her, and strong arms cradled her in comfort as the scents of cinnamon and a trace of woodsmoke wove through her.
She was still blindfolded and couldn’t see anything, couldn’t even see the darkness of the room. She raised her hand to push the scrap of silk away from her face.
Twist murmured, “No, no, princess. I had to take off my mask because I couldn’t resist you.”
Colleen gestured at the warmth around her and his arm behind her back and his legs beneath her sore butt. “What are you—”
“This is aftercare, my favorite part of the scene. Just rest now. You’ve been such a good girl, taking your punishment. Now you are my good girl again, my princess. Are you going to be good?”
She whispered, “Yes, please.”
His growl was softer, almost affectionate. “Good girl.”
Colleen laid in his arms for what seemed like forever, basking in his whispered words as he stroked her cheeks with his thumb and told her things she’d never heard before.
He said, “You tried so hard.”
“You did so well.”
