The pain that erupts beneath the blow is fire. Even worse than any Asbjörn delivered. The cane doesn’t carry nearly the same weight as a flogger, but the effect is harrowing. Precise and sharp. Like a knife. It rips through me with a force that tears a raw scream up my throat and makes my knees buckle.
“No!” I scream when a hand comes to my shoulder, my body preparing for defense. The panic that has erupted in my brain is so sharp that any little touch feels like a threat.
“Shh,” Ulf soothes close to my ear. It’s just his hand touching me, but I feel the heat from his body radiating into my skin, his powerful presence wrapping us into our own little bubble far away from the world—just him, me, and the pain.
I pant and gasp, sniffle and whimper, as tears press behind my eyes.
“You’re okay,” he says in a low voice that carries a steadiness that instills his confidence straight into me.
I’m okay, is all my brain can grasp despite the shock still tearing through my system.
“You’re okay,” he repeats several times.
“I’m okay,” I finally agree, nodding as I straighten and dry the side of my eyes on my shoulder.
“Yes, you are.” Ulf remains a moment longer, imbuing me with his strength through the simple touch of his hand. “I want to do it again,” he finally says. “Will you take one more for me?”
I heave a shuddery breath, expelling my answer on the exhale. “Yes.”
I truly don’t want to. The mere idea of the pain has my legs shaking. Yet, there’s nothing I want more than to take it forhim. I don’t understand it. All I comprehend is the praise in Ulf’s voice when he says, “You’re very submissive, Elina. It’s beautiful to behold.”
His words are like one of his kisses. A blessing from the Gods. I soak it up and let it fill me with strength and determination.I’m okay. I can do this,I tell myself as I adjust my stance and my grip on the chains.
Ulf places the cane against my ass. A sharp breath hisses past my lips. And then a scream tears from my throat as the cane strikes my ass, sharp, deep, and harrowing. The pain tears through my system, and my scream keeps going, renewing itself with a force that claws at my throat.
The pain is deafening, ringing in my ears and blinding my eyes. My legs cave in; I collapse in the chains. Tears streak down my cheeks as my whole body—my mind too—coils tight, about to snap.
Hands grip my upper arms, lifting me to my feet, holding me steady. The sound of a deep breath beckons me to follow. When I only manage a staggered hiss, Ulf repeats, squeezing my armsurgently as he breathes in. I try again and manage to draw in a little more air. One more time and I draw a real breath. Another deep one and the pain dulls. One more and it fades in the strong pull I feel toward Ulf. One more and I just want to drown in his control.
“Good girl,” he says softly. “So beautiful. So submissive. I want you to thank me for the pain.”
A small part of my brain registers the absurdity, but the words fall from my lips with a naturalness as strange as the request. “Thank you,” I whisper, and a surge of something warm and heavy overcomes me, making me gasp and sink into the cross—melting beneath the weight of his dominance. “Thank you,” I repeat, wanting to say it over and over, the gratitude so tremendous I can barely contain it.
Ulf hums. “My pleasure.” He leans closer, his breath warming the shell of my ear. “I haven’t struck anyone that hard in years. So thank you for taking it.”
He holds on to me for another minute before letting Asbjörn step in and wrap his arms around me, letting me collapse into the safety of his embrace while he frees my arms.
“Take good care of her,” Ulf says, like he so often does. But this time, he adds three words that strengthen that submissive pull at the center of my heart and make me sink a little deeper. “She’s very precious.”
8
Elina
That small taste of Ulf’s dominance awakens things inside me I don’t dare to confront. A pull so strong that it scares me. I try not to dwell on it, but as it simmers at the back of my mind, it dredges up other emotions—guilt for keeping Asbjörn at an arm’s length. Every time he takes me home after a night at the club, I feel like I should invite him upstairs, but I can never bring myself to do so.
I’m not ready. Not ready for a relationship, and not ready to let a man into my life like that. The memory of Gustav’s betrayal is not as raw as it used to be—it seems to be fading with each new experience that reveals a new part of myself and my sexuality. But I know it will be a while before I can trust another man again and feel comfortable with that kind of intimacy.
One night, I decide it’s time to be frank with Asbjörn. I don’t want to end up hurting him if he gets the wrong idea.
“I can’t do relationships right now,” I say when we have a moment to ourselves at the bar.
“I know,” he says.
“How?”
He lifts a hand to stroke my cheek. “You’re guarding yourself, sweet Freja.”
Regret tightens my features, and I drop my gaze to the bar top. Because he’s right. I never invite him upstairs, and when he asks if I need anything the next day, I always decline.
