Page 13 of Master

Not once have I felt a glimmer of the euphoria on her face as any of the men I’ve played with have paddled me.

“This is our room.” Isaac’s voice ticks with excitement, and I drop my gaze back to the floor before he turns to find me disobeying him. He swipes his key card over the door handle, and the lock clicks open, granting us entry. I step into the room as Isaac pushes open the door, and I am in awe of how pristine it is.Right down to the starched sheets.

Decorative hooks adorn the entire wall. Hanging from them is every striking toy you could imagine. All of which I have ample experience with.Some I wish I hadn’t. The room houses very little furniture—the freshly made bed, a leather couch, and a bondage bench similar to the one Isaac keeps in my punishment room.

Stepping behind me, Isaac pulls the thin strand of ribbon holding my tiny dress in place. It flutters to the floor, leaving me bare before the small crowd. The cold air wafts over my clammy body, chilling me to the core. Parting my lips to plead with Isaac to take me home, I find myself immediately silenced from the shock of him shoving a silicone gag into my mouth. Pressing my tongue against it, I try to shove it from my mouth as he wedges it behind my teeth and pumps the bulb to inflate it. And just like that, I can’t talk back. Or draw in a solid breath.

“On the bench. Ass up.” Feeling lightheaded, I hesitate to move. While I can barely keep my eyes open, I know Isaac is staring at me with disapproving annoyance. He steps close and tenderly cups my face before pushing the hair from my sweaty temple. He tucks it behind my ear as he leans close and darkly whispers, “I know you didn’t want to come tonight, but if you’re going to act like a disobedient brat, I’m going to be forced to treat you like one. Now, get your ass on the fucking bench.”

Isaac wastes no time. The moment I’m secured to the bench, the crack of the paddle striking my backside echoes around the small room.

CHAPTER TWELVE

LIAM

With Layla on my arm, I walk from the lounge and into the club. No one bats an eye at the two of us until we head into the exhibition hall. That quickly draws some inquisitive looks from the regulars who know that I have my brother’s woman nuzzled into my side. Submissives wander this hall with a man who isn’t their Dom daily. And while I’m close with my sisters-in-law, the regulars know we aren’tthatclose.

“No funny business,” I tease, squeezing her hand in the crook of my arm as we step into the hall.

“No promises,” Layla brats, glancing up at me with a wink. Placing her hand over mine, she asks, “In all seriousness, I know we aren’t here for the same reason Tris and I visit, so what are we doing back here?”

Needing to grant myself a view through the window to our left, I nudge through the crowd until we’re standing shoulder to shoulder before the pane of glass. I pull Layla into me as she watches the couple engaged in a wax play scene. Wrapping my arms around her, I hold her closer than I should and whisper into her ear, “I want to make sure the new members are adheringto the rules of play—both in and out of the rooms—and having a gorgeous woman on my arm makes me a tad less conspicuous.”

“Understood,” she whispers. Slipping her hand into mine, she laces our fingers and plays along. “Show me all the things you want to do with me.”

Layla continues to flirt and brat as we mingle among the other couples, making the ruse quite realistic. Like those surrounding us, we slowly walk the length of the hallway, pausing for a few minutes to admire the couples in various types of play on the other side of each window.

“Holy shit!” Layla exclaims, drawing both my attention and that of the couples beside us to the window on our right.

“What?” I squeeze her hand as my eyes dart around the room, looking for an issue with the woman bound to the Saint Andrew’s cross. She appears to be perfectly fine.Better than fine, actually. From the euphoria on her face, it’s quite clear she’s deep in subspace.

“Sorry. It wasn’t her that caught my attention. I’ve never seen anyone with that many piercings before,” Layla whispers with a slight giggle, her eyes traveling up the Jacob’s ladder studded through the shaft of the man standing a few feet before us.

“Next window, sweetheart, before your overt gawking gets us into trouble with your husband,” I teasingly snark, pulling her from the glass. The two of us are still snickering when we reach the next window.

“Li.” Layla’s voice cracks, devoid of her prior jovialness, when she looks into the room. Following her distraught gaze, I find myself staring into the fear-filled, glassy brown eyes of a beautiful woman struggling to maintain consciousness. Hereyelids flutter, barely jarring open with the violent strikes of the leather-barbed flogger being swung by the inept tool behind her. A blueish hue tints her pouty pink lips, and her nostrils flare as she struggles to breathe.

Roughly rapping my knuckles against the window, I attempt to get his attention. He glances at me for a moment and proceeds to outright ignore me—and the clear distress of his partner—as he strikes her again.

“Open the fucking door!” I shout, driving my shoulder into it. The commotion draws the attention of the club as I slam into it a second time. The wood splinters, and it crashes into the room, with me staggering in behind it.

Continuing to ignore the woman bound to the bench, the asshole behind her spins to face me and barks, “This is an exhibition, not a fucking train.”

“This is fucking over!” I snarl, fisting the front of his shirt. After pulling him toward me, I toss him across the room on his arse. I turn my attention to the bound woman in distress and grab at the bulb for the gag in her mouth. Twisting the release valve to deflate it, I run my fingers under her jaw and am relieved to find a faint pulse. My hand brushes against her overly warm skin as I swipe the sweat-matted hair from her face to remove the gag. When I remove the silicone plug that filled her mouth, spittle falls from her lips, but she doesn’t take a breath. Layla works diligently to undo the restraints as I shout, “Call fucking 911. She isn’t breathing.”

Carefully wrapping my arms around her naked, lifeless body, I lift her from the bench and pull her into me. “She’s mine,” the fuckingcunt who did this shouts, shoving himself from whereI launched him and rushing toward me. “You don’t get fucking touch he?—”

Conor barrels into the room and grabs him by the throat, cutting his threat short. Slamming him into the wall, Conor’s tone carries every ounce of anger I’m currently harboring. “No.Youdon’t get to fucking touch her,” he spits.

Kneeling on the cool marble tiles, I gently lay her at my feet. “Come on, sweetheart,” I coax, grinding the butt of my palm against her sternum. Trying to revive her as I glare at the man in Conor’s hold, I bark, “What’s her fucking name?”

He stares back at me tight-lipped, and Conor plunges a fist into his gut to motivate him to speak. Painfully gasping for air, he exhales, “Sasha… Sasha Martin.”

“C’mon, Sasha. Fucking breathe for me!” I plead. Pinching Sasha’s nose and tipping her head back, I send two deep breaths into her mouth. I fill them twice more before rubbing over her chest again. You don’t deserve to die because of this piece of shit.Bending down, I breathe for her again. When I pull back the third time, my warm breath sputters back against my lips, and Sasha’s mouth flutters.Thank fucking God.Relief washes over me as she draws in a deep breath and it wafts over my face when she exhales.

“That’s it. Breathe for me,” I urge, staring down into her fear-filled eyes as she continues to take slow, deep breaths. Still groggy and confused, she gazes up at me through her heavy lids, and I soothe, “I’ve got you. You’re safe, Sasha.”

Swiftly pulling the sheet from the bed behind me, I haphazardly toss it over her body, attempting to provide her with a shred of modesty. Layla helps cover her as she kneels beside her withteary eyes of her own. Dusting my thumb over the trails of mascara, I tenderly rub Sasha’s warm, ruddy cheeks while we wait for the ambulance.

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