Page 32 of Red Flagged
Aurélie was still asleepwhen the world started bleeding in around the edges. I didn’t fucking want it to.
The light was pale, not even full daylight yet, but it was enough to pull me from the high. That fragile, floating afterglow that still clung to my skin like sweat.
Aurélie was sprawled beside me, facedown in the sheets, one arm curled beneath her and one leg thrown over the blanket like she’d tried to chase me in her sleep. Hair tangled. Cheeks flushed. Lips parted. She hadn’t moved since I’d carried her here and tucked her into my chest like something breakable. My good girl. My perfect submissive. My fuckingwifein almost every way that mattered.
And all I could think was—God, what did I just do to her?What did sheletme do? Because I’d never done or felt anything like that before. Not in racing, not in sex, not inlife.
It had been too much.
I’d stayed up for a long time after Aurélie fell asleep looking up these feelings. People in forums online talked about the drop after an intense BDSM session. The way they’d walk that razor-thin edge of power and care, taking someone to the brink and watching themselves unravel in the process.
But this… this had been something else. Something hallowed and harrowing.
She gave me the most terrifying gift a person can give: absolute submission. No limits. No filter. No safe words. Just trust, laid bare and trembling.
And I had taken. Fuck, Itook. I’d watched her twitch and moan and cry for me. I knew every inch of her, each individual response. How her breath caught when I cupped her jaw, how her inner thighs clenched when I growled in French, how her cunt fluttered when I licked her but refused to let her grind. I saw it all.Feltit all.
She saidthank youfor her punishment like it was a goddamn prayer. I became someone else in that moment.
Not just a man. Not just her boyfriend. Something darker, hungrier, a creature built from her obedience and his own control. I wielded her moans like weapons and her orgasms like scripture. And when I heard her sayDaddy Domwith that bratty fucking smirk, I nearly blacked out.
The line between pain and pleasure didn’t exist. Worship fused with destruction until I couldn’t tell them apart. It all blurred into one endless, orgasmic unraveling. I don’t even remember how long I stayed between her thighs, just that the room got brighter at some point and I still hadn’t had enough.
I’d marked her like a fucking canvas.
The worst part was that I loved it. Every slap, cry, flick of my tongue. The way her hips twitched when she tried to squirm away and I held her there, made her take more because she wanted it. Shegaveme the permission to cross that line withher. Her submission wasn’t just about restraint, it was arelease. For both of us.
And now she was here, blissed out and wrecked, breathing steady beside me while I sat in the wreckage of what we’d created.
Not ashamed. Not scared. Just… altered. Permanently.
I should’ve felt guilty. Should’ve been horrified at how much I’d enjoyed it and how far I’d gone. At the marks on her thighs, the bruises darkening on her wrists, covering up the ones Morel had left behind. The way I used her, pinned her, spanked her until she shook.
I should’ve questioned what the fuck that made me.
But I didn’t, because all I could think about was the way she’d looked at me afterward. She’d kissed me in the shower like I’d saved her, then pressed her lips to mine over and over until our chests stopped heaving and the soap slid down our skin and our pulses finally slowed.
She curled into me in bed afterward, damp hair clinging to our skin, her lashes fluttering like she was still floating. She looked like… like she feltsafe.
All I felt was this bone-deep ache of knowing that she saw me. All of me. And she hadn’t looked away.
We didn’t just understand each other on a physical level. We were something deeper than that. We werebiblical.
She gave me her obedience, her trust, her submission, and I gave her everything I had. Rage. Reverence. Hunger. Violence and devotion wrapped in the same brutal package.
And still, she touched me with love and adoration. She kissed me like she’d seen the darkest parts of me and decided to love them anyway. That was the moment I knew I could never let her go even if my life depended on it.
The things we shared with each other—about ourselves, our lives, our dreams, hopes and aspirations—only fortified myresolve that I would marry her in a goddamn heartbeat. I’d take her last name if she asked me to. I’d fall on my knees at the fucking altar just to hear her sayI doin that feminine French lilt and know it was forme. Always me.
“I can hear you thinking, mon champion,” Aurélie murmured sleepily, tearing me from my thoughts. Her voice was hoarse, scraped raw from all the crying and moaning and screaming I’d wrung out of her the night before.
I blinked and focused on her face, her hazel eyes still heavy with sleep, her lashes clumped together. She looked soft, with her freckles sprinkled across her nose and her teeth biting into her bottom lip.Christ.She looked likemine.
But before I could respond—before I could even reach for her—she groaned and rolled to her side with a sharp wince.
My stomach dropped.
She curled in on herself, one hand flying to her lower abdomen, pressing there like she could soothe the pain with touch alone.
