Page 12 of Red

She froze like she’d hit some invisible land mine and any further movements would be her last.

"I'm sorry," she said, her cheeks darkening as she flew back over to me, almost literally, like she expected me to take her in my arms. She stopped a few feet from me and retreated slightly, lowering her head to her chest.

With her brazen behavior, she certainly deserved no reward, no mercy, but I clutched her chin between my pointer and thumb and lifted her gaze from the floor. Questions like, ‘Where did you come from? What spell have you cast on me?’ flitted through my head, but none were as important as the one I uttered.

"How many lashes should I give you?"

Her lips rounded and her eyelids fluttered like butterfly wings. Like she wanted to take flight because being in awe of all of this, of the lifestyle, was one thing, but actually receiving punishment? That was too much.

"L-lashes?" She stumbled backward, her head whipping to and fro like she expected someone to pounce on her. Some minion of mine that would strap her to the rack and laugh at her screams. We'd barely spent an hour together alone and already I was discovering all these sides to her. The badass, who took Colin down without blinking an eye. The huntress who grabbed my cock in the monitor room. The wonder-filled explorer who had to touch and stroke all things BDSM. The terrified submissive who either wasn't a submissive at all or had been so scarred by bad experiences that she didn't know how to respond to me, or a structured environment.

If I was a lesser Dom, I'd just bend her over and make her take the punishment I thought she deserved. I'd felt the warmth of her skin and I knew there was another part of her that would clutch me, setting me on fire with lust and hunger.

I was damned. I'd come here to sate the beast in me that needed control, and instead, there was a voice in my head that told me this was the beginning. To take my time.

Don't screw this up.

"Do you trust me?" I asked.

That smile of hers, a smile I knew had to have broken a string of hearts, flashed across her lips. "I guess? I mean I don't even know your name and you don't know mine but I feel this closeness, this-"

I took her mouth, doing something I'd never done.

I kissed a submissive.

And I knew when our lips met that she was so much more than that. The fire in the pit of my belly turned rules and structure to ash and I pulled her closer, needing to memorize every curve of her lips. Needing to taste the sweet cinnamon of her tongue. Taking her face in my hands and holding her tenderly. Being romantic with a stranger who didn't feel like a stranger at all.

Her eyes were still closed, her lips still puckered. There was a glow of sheer bliss on her face. I didn't even care that my mouth was probably smeared with her lipstick because her mouth was a mess of red and smiles.

"Do you trust me?" I asked a second time.

Her eyes opened and the blue scoured the green in mine to the point that I almost took a step back. I didn't want her to see too much. To see the man that everyone else saw. A man to fear. A man who had no heart, could have no heart to crush the dreams of good people because they didn't make good TV. In her gaze I felt like I didn't have a mask on at all, and I wanted to hide all the broken pieces so she only saw the part of me that wanted her.

She brought a hand to her mouth and she went from mid twenties to nubile, all but twirling one of her pink strands around her finger coyly.

"Yes. It doesn't make a lick of sense, but I trust you."

Inside, I sighed with relief, but my exterior was more disciplined than that. I pulled my handkerchief from my pocket and wiped my mouth. "Lie on the bed, face down."

I purposely left out detailed instructions, testing her. I gave her a command, and I wanted her to do just that. Not ask me if I wanted her to take off her shoes or her dress or anything other than what I told her to do.

She surprised me, not saying a word, not hesitating, just turning on her heels and walking over to the four poster bed. She mounted it and my cock ached when I realized that she wasn't wearing underwear. The tease was only a flash before she collapsed onto the mattress. Waiting.

There was a sea of ways I could discipline her. The equipment rack was lined with whips and floggers and paddles, but it all seemed too impersonal. I strode over to the bed, excitement flexing inside me as I traced my fingers along her calves, feeling her skin react to my touch. When I reached the hem of her skirt, I wrenched the fabric upward, exposing the round curve of her ass. The gentle folds of her pussy were already glistening and I hadn't even gotten started.

I caressed one cheek, then smoothed over the other one. "How many lashes do you deserve?"

"Five," she murmured into the mattress.

Succumbing.

Submitting.

Five it is.

My hand crashed against her flesh and I retracted it, watching the blood rush to the surface. The imprint of my hand was rosy red. She made the tiniest grunt, clenching her muscles before she relaxed.

"If you feel uncomfortable or unsafe or you just can't take anymore, you say red. Yellow can be used if you're getting close to red, but don't want to stop. Green means more." I stroked my fingertips over the area I spanked. "What's your color, Sin?"

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