Page 58 of Red

“I thought of chaining you to this bed the first night you were here.” He walked past her and lifted one of the iron cuffs attached to the bedposts.

“You didn’t, though,” she said softly.

“No. I didn’t.” He dropped the cuff and walked to the wardrobe on his side of the bed and opened it.

It wasn’t a wardrobe at all. It was a toy chest. Whips, floggers, paddles, and more hung from hooks on the insides of the doors and inside the cabinet. He fingered the toys, running his hands over the thick falls of the floggers and the flat surfaces of the paddles. Melinda’s ass clenched when he paused.

He plucked a thick, heavy flogger from its hook and walked to the end of the bed. Crooking his finger, he beckoned her forward.

She stepped to the post, bundles of nerves dancing in her stomach. The stress of his day had brought him to this point. He needed her as much as she needed him. This dance he was beginning with her, it was their dance.

He kept his dark gaze on her as he grabbed one wrist and then the other and secured them over her head. The loud click of the cuffs echoed between them, but she never lost her focus on him.

“Hold this for me, sweet girl.” He draped the flogger over her shoulder. The handle rested on her chest, the thick leather falls cascading over her naked back.

She pressed her forehead to the cool wood of the post, hearing him behind her. His suit jacket fell to the bed, his belt unbuckled, and the familiar, titillating sound of his zipper lowering came next. He was undressing. Matching her vulnerability by baring his body to her.

Melinda was chained to the post, though, and she didn’t lose sight of who had the upper hand. She gripped the post and waited.

The flogger glided over her skin when he took it from her.

“Your skin is so pretty, so untouched.” He dug his nails between her shoulder blades and dragged them down. “At least it was.”

The burn was instant, and she hissed, wiggling from him. But there was nowhere to go. She was bound. Helpless.

His fingers dug into her again, and she braced herself, letting the pain seep into her soul as he marked her again. A rush of pleasure filled her when he lifted his hand. Her pussy wept for wanting him.

“Have you been flogged?” he asked, removing his touch from her. The disconnection from him immediate, a chill covered her.

“Once,” she answered, no longer willing to hide from him. Knowing he would find her, he would always find her.

“On your ass or your back?” He swished the flogger against her thighs.

“My ass.” Her body clenched, waiting for the first real slash of the flogger, but it didn’t come.

“I’m going to mark your back, your ass, and your thighs. And you’re going to be a good wife for me and take every bit of it. And when I’m done, I’m going to fuck you. Exactly like you are, bound and held for me.”

Her breath caught. Everything he described should have her screaming, yet she spread her feet and braced herself for the first lick.

“Fuck, you’re perfect, Melinda. Absolutely perfect.” He ran his fingertips over her sensitized skin, tracing the scratches he’d inflicted. “This is going to hurt, baby. Scream as much as you need.”

She grabbed the post harder, ready for him to begin.

Nothing would have prepared her. The pain knocked her breath from her body. Her eyes went wide, her mouth poised in a frozen scream.

Again, he struck her. He moved with precision up and down her ass, to her thighs, across her shoulder blades. Careful not to hit sensitive areas, knowing exactly where to hit, how much force to use, to elicit the sounds he craved.

Her voice returned, and she cried out when the falls wrapped around her hip, delivering a sting to her side.

“Such a sweet sound.” He lashed her again.

The worry, the fear, the confusion washed away as he brought the flogger down over and over again. All she felt, all she heard was him. Her nipples hardened, her legs weakened and her need for his touch, for his flesh against hers, grew in leaps and bounds.

“Erik!” she cried out when the flogger lashed across her thighs.

He paused and pressed his naked chest to her back. She arched her spine, trying to lessen the impact, and moved up to her toes.

“There isn’t an inch of you that doesn’t wear my mark.” He bit down on her earlobe.

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