Page 61 of Cherry Auction

“Sir,” she says, eyes squeezed shut with pleasure, peaks of her hardened nipples only an inch away from my mouth. It’s difficult not to graze my teeth along them like I long to. It would ratchet her pleasure even higher. But I’m not sure I could keep the razor’s edge of control I’m walking.

Plus, keeping her on the edge pleases the sadist inside me. I could keep her here all day, torturing both of us. The hot water won’t run out.

“So close, my good girl, but you know that’s not my name.” I tug the pulsing spray away from where she wants it and put a little space between our bodies. She makes a sharp noise of protest.

“What’syourname?” I lift the pulsing spray and blast her beaded nipples with it.

She gasps, eyes popping back open as her nipples harden and extend outwards. She wriggles her hips back and forth frantically, but I’ve shifted so she can’t get much relief that way.

“What’s your name?” I ask again.

She mewls with need, and I blast one nipple. She arches towards the spray and I almost lose the load bursting in myballs right there. She’s going to go absolutely crazy when we get to nipple play. I haven’t even clamped her yet. I blast the other nipple and her head swings back and forth, bottom lip clamped between her teeth.

Fuck. I’m getting distracted. Plus I don’t know if we’ll ever get to nipple clamps or anything else. I just need to get her to come back to me.

“Your name,” I demand, dropping the spray until she looks at me again, eyes desperate.

“Kitten,” she gasps.

I drop the spray to dangle from its hose again and lift a hand to caress her face. “Love, tell me your name.”

She blinks a couple of times, and then looks around the shower like she’s just seeing it, just coming back into her body. Her arms clamp tighter around my back as water—not from the shower—beads at the edges of her eyes. Tears.

“Oh god, Domhn, I don’t know my name,” she says.

I hug her tight as she cements herself against me, hips jerking once more as she shudders in orgasm.

I hold her to me and massage the back of her neck underneath her hair as she begins to sob.

“It’s going to be okay, love,” I whisper fervently, determined to make it true. “I swear, I’m going to make it all okay.”

TWENTY-THREE

BROOKE

I wake up sleepily,so, so warm and perfectly cozy. It’s only after my eyes blink several times that I realize I’m tucked up against a huge, warm bare male chest. Domhnall’s chest.

I inhale sharply. Everything smells like him, and it eases me even in my confusion.

He stayed the night after a session?

But no, that’s not right. He never stays. Except… the room is flooded with light.

I’m not in the dungeon anymore.

And then it all rushes back in, though it’s a confusing blur. I’m not sure exactly what happened yesterday. I went upstairs and then there was?—

I gasp again when I remember all the pictures and—and?—

Donny’s horrible accusations of who I was in the past. The hateful way he looked at me over the rim of his whisky glass, and then it shattering against the wall.

I struggle to get out of his arms. No. No, I’m not who he said I was! I can’t be!

“Hey.” Domhnall’s strong arms suddenly fly around me, holding me to him. “Love. Love. It’s all right. I’m here.”

Love?His confusing gentleness is enough to stall my scramble to get away.

“Is Brooke still here with me?” he asks, caressing some hair out of my face and behind my ear.

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