Page 69 of Gambler's Fallacy

He’s not going to give me what I need.

He’s going to deny this, and I don’t know what to say, what to do. “Twenty,” I finally mumble. That’s usually when I want to beg her to stop — even though Iknowbetter and I don’t. But it has to be enough for them, right?

“Twenty,” Caleb confirms. “Havoc, if you can hold his hand?”

“Duh,” Havoc answers. He bends down and kisses the top of my head. “You’re doing great, Seven.”

I’m not. Not really.

But it feels so good to hear him say it that even if I wanted to argue, I can’t.

Havoc grabs my hand, and I cling to it, bowing my head as I raise my ass in the air again in open invitation for Caleb to finally take the crop to it.

Caleb doesn’t say a word as he brings the crop down on my ass for the first strike. It’s a quick, painful sting, but I know Caleb held back.

“One,” I say automatically, and I add, “I’m sorry” like I’m supposed to.

“No.” Caleb presses the crop against my ass. “Don’t apologize. This isn’t a punishment. This is to make you feel good.”

I don’t understand.

How is it not a punishment? He’d pushed me so hard about missing work, and now… “What is the punishment?” I ask in a small voice, terrified of what he’s going to say. If he locks me away, I don’t think I can handle it. Not right now.

“There is none, Seven. We talked it out. You’re going to do better.” Caleb rubs the welt he’d left.

“Yeah, like… I do like rough sex when everybody’s enjoying it,” Havoc adds, squeezing my hand. “I’m not doing it because I hate you or want you to suffer. If you think that…”

I shake my head. “I don’t,” I say, but the confusion and the pain make it hard for me to sound anything but lost. Pathetic. “Please, I need more.”

I lower my head again, burying my face against Havoc’s thigh as I wait for the next strike.

When it comes, I still whisper the word “two,” but it’s lost against Havoc’s pants.

My throat tightens around the next words, the instinctual “I’m sorry.”

“Good,” Caleb says. “I love the way your skin shows the impact so easily.”

I whimper, not knowing what to say in the wake of those words, thosekindwords.

I don’t deserve them.

I don’t deserve any of this.

But I’ll take it anyway.

Caleb gives me the next three strokes in quick succession, the pain layering too fast for me to add “I’m sorry” or “thank you,” then he speeds up so that I can’t even keep up with the count.

I gasp and writhe, and I let the pain wash over me. Havoc holds my hand and pets my hair while I lift my ass up for more of the pain.

The strokes stop.

“That was ten, Seven,” Caleb says. “Do you need more?”

I need thirty.

There’s a part of me that’s tempted to tell him to stop even though I can handle so many more because I want him to fuck me. I deserve this, though, and I nod. Realizing he might not be able to see the gesture, I rasp out, “Yes, Master.”

Caleb groans loudly. “Seven?—”

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