Page 38 of Savage Game
Her shoulders sagged.
How does he know me so well?
“Yes,” she whispered, “that’s exactly it.”
He pulled her stiff body against him, and her arms snaked around his middle.
Resting her head against his chest, she allowed the slow lub-dub of his heartbeat, his fresh scent, and his warm body to comfort and relax her.
She couldn’t tell how long they stood like that, but when she finally pulled back, her body had stopped shaking, and her heart rate had slowed to a slow jog instead of a full-out sprint rhythm.
Without giving herself time to think the better of it, she grasped his hand and started to pull him to the bedrooms.
He bellowed a laugh and followed her.
When they reached his bedroom, he took over. With his free hand he opened the door, with the other still holding hers, he guided her toward the four-poster bed. Now she noticed the bolts embedded in the posts.
He let go of her hand and pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “I’m proud of you, kitten. Take off your clothes and place them on the bed, please.”
While she undressed and neatly folded her clothes, he rummaged through an antique wooden chest and produced two fleece-lined leather cuffs, short chains, and a multi-stranded whip. A whip. She shuddered.
I trust him, but…
She bit her lip. “You’ll stop when I say red?”
“Absolutely.” He tossed the items on the bed and cupped her cheek. “But I’m also going to check with you often to see how you’re doing. How’s this, we’re going to use a scale from one to ten, where one is no pain and ten is excruciating.”
She nodded. “I know the system; they use it in hospitals.” She bit her lip as she remembered vividly how she knew the practice.
He made his throaty warning sound. “There’s no place for him in our bedroom.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
The scars creased. “Don’t be. The ugly memories will fade.” He tilted his head. “Ready?”
Without speaking, she held out her wrists. He buckled the leather cuffs around them and pressed a kiss to each palm. “I’m honored by your trust.”
He used the chains to restrain her between the posts. She faced the bed with her arms in a high V. Pity she wasn’t feeling like cheering in victory but more like begging for mercy.
Her breathing hitched as she pulled on the chains.
Tied and helpless with a man, who was going to whip her. Was she insane?
“I-I…” What did she want to say?
Even as she tried to figure out what to say, excitement mixed with her fear.
How can I get turned on, even if I’m scared spitless?
A masculine chuckle made her jump a little. “Did I say that out loud?”
He stroked her hair over her shoulders to her front. “Hmhm, you did.”
His hands ventured lower, and he trailed his fingertips over her collarbone and the tops of her breasts. “Remember, I don’t plan to go over a four or five on the pain scale, and the flogger won’t leave any bruising. If anything lingers, it will resemble a light sunburn and disappear within a few hours.”
“That’s reassuring, thank you for telling me, Sir.”
Strong but careful fingers gripped her chin, and he turned her face for a deep, lingering kiss. By the time he pulled back, she was a puddle of goo and wouldn’t have batted an eyelash if he pulled out a bullwhip.
