"Fontaine's still out there."
"I know. But I won't let Armand or Fontaine take that space from me. I won't let them make me hide." She meets my gaze directly. "I need to go back. Not in a private room hiding. On the semi-private floor where people can see me. I need to reclaim that space."
She's refusing to hide. Not testing boundaries. Making a choice.
"Full security detail. Tactical positioning. You don't move without my clearance."
"Yes, Sir."
"And we do this my way. No negotiation."
"I wouldn't have it any other way."
I pull her back down against my chest. "Then we go tonight. Let everyone see exactly who you are and who you belong to."
She relaxes against me, tension finally easing from her body. We stay like that for a while, the domestic intimacy feeling strange after weeks of constant crisis. But it works. It fits.
We dress quickly. I call Margot on the way to the vehicle, let her know we're coming and to expect enhanced security protocols. She doesn't question it. She just confirms the semi-private floor will be ready.
Twenty minutes later, we pull into the underground garage at Dominion. My security team follows in a second vehicle, establishing the perimeter before we even arrive. I scan the space tactically—sight lines, choke points, exit routes. No threats are visible.
Margot meets us at the private entrance. "Security's been briefed. Additional monitors on the semi-private floor. I've cleared the schedule so you'll have space."
"Appreciated."
Simone changes in the salon while I coordinate final positioning with my team. When she emerges, she's in black leather—corset and skirt that hits mid-thigh, heels that add height and presence. Every line of her screams confidence.
We move through the club. Members recognize her immediately, conversations pausing as we pass. She doesn't shrink from the attention, doesn't hide. Just walks beside me with her head up and her spine straight, owning both identities.
The semi-private floor is exactly what we need. Open enough to be visible, private enough for what I have planned. I see Andy across the room, off-duty and dressed in casual leathers. He nods acknowledgment but doesn't approach. Professional boundaries maintained even here.
I guide Simone to the center of the space. "Kneel."
She sinks down gracefully, hands folded in her lap, eyes lowered. The submission is real, not performed for an audience. Everyone watching can see the difference.
I circle her slowly, letting everyone see exactly what she's giving me. Then I pull her to her feet and lead her to the St. Andrew's cross.
"Turn around."
She turns, presenting her back. I unlace the corset with deliberate slowness, letting the leather loosen inch by inch. When the last lace pulls free, she shrugs it off and lets it fall.The skirt follows. She stands naked except for the heels, spine straight, no hesitation. Everyone in the space watches her bare herself, and she doesn't flinch from the attention.
"Arms up."
She raises them. I secure her wrists with leather cuffs, then her ankles. The position leaves her exposed, vulnerable, completely at my mercy. Exactly where she needs to be.
I select a flogger from the implement wall. Soft leather, perfect for building heat without serious impact. "Color?"
"Green, Sir."
"Good girl."
I warm her up slowly, letting the flogger strands trail across her shoulders before the first real strike lands. The leather kisses her skin with a satisfying thwack. Her breath hitches. I work methodically—shoulders, back, the curve of her ass, her thighs—building heat with each pass.
She stays silent at first, breathing through the sensation. But as I increase the force, small gasps break free. The sound goes straight to my cock. Her skin blooms pink, then deeper rose where the leather strikes repeatedly. I can see the heat radiating off her.
"Everyone's watching you take this," I tell her between strikes. The flogger lands across her ass with a sharp crack. "Watching you surrender. No pretense. No performance. Just pure submission."
She whimpers, and the sound carries raw need that fills the space. Her thighs tremble. Her fingers flex against the cuffs. Every muscle in her body is taut with the effort of staying still, of taking what I give her.
