Page 317 of Reign

The dress loosens around me. Luciano eases it down my body until the tight fabric gathers around my feet, leaving me in the scraps of lace I wore underneath it.

His eyes move over me in the mirror across the room.

“Take off your shoes.”

I step out of my heels. Before I can straighten, he hooks his fingers into my panties and draws them slowly down my thighs.

My bra follows.

He doesn’t rush any of it. By the time I’m naked, I’m painfully aware of the chains above me and the fact that Luciano is still standing behind me in just his pants.

His hand settles against my stomach.

“Second thoughts?”

“No.”

“Good.” He kisses the place beneath my ear. “Step up, princesa.”

He guides me onto the low padded platform. The extra height brings me closer to him, though I still have to tip my head back when he moves in front of me.

“Hands up.”

I lift them.

The metal is cool against my skin. Luciano closes one cuff around my wrist, checks the fit, then does the same with the other before securing them to the chains overhead. My arms stay raised with my elbows relaxed. My feet remain planted beneath me.

I’m held open for him.

Luciano steps back and looks at me without pretending he isn’t enjoying the view.

“That’s beautiful.”

My face warms. “You haven’t even done anything.”

“I’m looking at you. That counts.”

He turns to the wall and takes down a flogger. The soft suede tails spill over his hand as he approaches me again.

They look almost harmless.

I know better than to trust anything in Luciano’s hands simply because it looks pretty.

He lets the tails brush over my shoulder. The touch is so light it tickles as they trail down my arm, across my collarbone, and over one breast. A strip of suede whispers over my nipple, making it tighten.

I watch his face, trying to guess when the first strike will come.

Luciano notices.

The flogger drifts lower instead, sliding over my stomach and the tops of my thighs. He circles behind me and lets the tails cascade down my spine, over my ass, then along the backs of my legs.

Every pass makes me brace.

Every time he denies me the strike, the anticipation winds tighter.

The first one finally lands across the backs of my thighs.

It’s warm and heavy, more thud than sting, but I jump anyway.