Chapter 50
CHAPTER FIFTY
Seb
The phone buzzes in my pocket, and when I glance at the screen, my jaw tightens. It’s an unknown number, but I just know who’s calling me. Of course, he couldn’t resist sticking his nose back into my life.
Sighing, knowing that he’ll just keep trying if I don’t answer, I swipe to answer but don’t bother with pleasantries. It’s better to just get it over with. “What do you want?”
His tone is as smooth as ever, oozing false charm. “Sebastian, we need to talk. There’s too much at stake for you to keep shutting me out.”
I snort, leaning against the bar and swirling the glass of bourbon in my hand. The rich, amber liquid catches the low light of the club. “What’s at stake? My life? My happiness? Oh, wait, you mean your empire. Sorry, Father, but I don’t owe you a damn thing.”
“Don’t be so short-sighted,” he snaps, the mask slipping for just a moment. “This isn’t about me. It’s about the legacy you’re throwing away.”
He’s so clueless. Has he still not worked it out? That it was me and Asher Sullivan who worked together to bring him down. I couldn’t give a shit what happens to the company once the assets are released from the investigation. I don’t need or want it.
All I wanted was to be free of him, and to hurt him and make him pay in the most painful way possible for what he did to Elle. Unfortunately, as much as I’d like to kill him for hurting her, I know that the best way to hurt my father is through his pride. And the Sterling-Knight Diamond Industry has always been his pride and joy.
“My legacy is right where it belongs,” I say evenly, taking a sip of bourbon. “In the past. You can take it and shove it where the sun doesn’t shine. I have better things to do – like living a life you wouldn’t understand even if I spelled it out for you.”
“Sebastian—”
“Enjoy prison, Father. And don’t call again. You were dead to me the minute you hurt my wife. I just needed time to let everything fall into place. I wonder where the anonymous tip-off came from, hmm?”
I end the call before he can respond, tossing the phone onto the bar. The noise of the club hums around me, grounding me. This is my world now. The only legacy I care about is the one Elle and I are building together.
“Trouble in paradise?” Asher’s voice cuts through the din, and I glance over to see him strolling up, looking as self-assured as ever. He’s always had a knack for showing up when he’s least expected.
“Not at all,” I say with a wry grin. “Just old ghosts trying to haunt me.”
Asher takes a long look at me, his brow furrowing slightly before he smirks. “You look different, you know. Happier. More at ease.”
“Married life will do that to a man.”
He laughs, shaking his head. “Enjoying married life? You? Never thought I’d see the day. But I’ll admit, it suits you.”
“You should try it sometime,” I say, raising an eyebrow at him.
His gaze flicks across the room, landing on Faith, who’s deep in conversation with another Dom. There’s a flicker of something in Asher’s eyes – something rare and unguarded.
“I might just try that,” he murmurs, a smile tugging at his lips. “If I can get her to agree to a single date first.”
I chuckle, clapping him on the shoulder. “Good luck with that. Faith doesn’t strike me as the type to make things easy.”
“Neither did Elle,” he shoots back, grinning.
“And look at me now,” I say, setting my glass down. “Speaking of which, I have to go. It’s time for the demonstration.”
Asher whistles low. “The infamous Sebastian Sterling-Knight back on stage at last. This I have to see.”
I leave him at the bar and make my way to the stage. The lights are dimmed, the audience murmuring with anticipation as I step into the spotlight. The bench is already in place, and as I stand there, a hush falls over the room.
Then she steps out.
Elle.
The moment she enters, the air shifts. She’s wearing that dress – the backless one she wore the first time she came here. It hugs her body like it was made for her, and the memory of that night flares hot and vivid in my mind.
But this time she looks even more spectacular because she’s mine.
And the whole club knows it because her diamond collar glitters at her throat, telling everyone they can look, lust, want…but they can’t touch.
I love it.
I love her.
She walks to me with a confidence that takes my breath away, sinking gracefully to her knees in front of me before rising and leaning over the bench. Her trust is absolute, and it humbles me every time.
It was her idea to scene together, to come to the club and let others watch, and I was all for it. Anything my beautiful wife wants, she can have. Apart from another lover. I won’t share.
I run my fingers down her spine, feeling the shiver that follows. Then I take the flogger, letting the tails drag lightly over her exposed skin.
The first strike on her bare back lands with a sharp crack, and she gasps, her body arching beautifully. I let the flogger tease her skin. The leather tails trail over her back and thighs, their soft caress a contrast to the sharp snap that follows.
Elle’s fingers grip the edge of the bench tightly, her knuckles whitening as she steadies herself. Her breathing is shallow but steady, her body responding to every stroke with an intoxicating mix of tension and surrender. I focus entirely on her – on the way her muscles shift under her skin, the way her head tilts slightly as if chasing the sensation.
“Good girl,” I murmur, low enough for only her to hear. Her soft moan is all the reward I need, but it ignites something deeper, something primal.
The second strike lands, this time across her lower back, and she shivers. Her hips lift instinctively, presenting herself to me, silently begging for more. I let the flogger linger on her skin, trailing the tips along the curve of her spine, across her shoulders, and down to her thighs. The soft, teasing strokes are almost worse than the strikes themselves – an exquisite torture designed to heighten her anticipation.
Each lash to her back lands with precision, painting her skin with a delicate flush that grows deeper with every strike. I vary the rhythm – some slow and deliberate, others quicker, sharper – keeping her guessing, keeping her on the edge. Her gasps grow louder, her body trembling with every expertly placed blow.
The room is silent except for the rhythmic crack of the flogger and Elle’s increasingly desperate sounds. The audience fades further into the background, and all I see is her – the way she trusts me completely, the way she gives herself over to this moment without hesitation.
I pause to run my hand over her warmed skin, feeling the heat radiating from her body. Her back arches into my touch, and her soft whimper undoes me. “You’re doing so well,” I whisper, brushing a kiss to her shoulder before stepping back and resuming the rhythm.
Her moans turn to cries, her body trembling as she rides the edge of pleasure and pain. Tears gather at the corners of her eyes, spilling down her cheeks, but I know they’re not from distress. They’re the release she’s been craving, the catharsis only I can give her.
The final strikes land lower, across the curve of her ass and the tops of her thighs. She gasps loudly, her whole body quaking as I bring her to the very edge of her endurance. I lower the flogger, setting it aside as I step closer to her.
With infinite care, I run my hands over her skin, soothing the areas I’ve marked, tracing every line of her trembling body. She’s a masterpiece – her flushed, radiant skin glowing under the lights, her breaths shallow but steady, her body completely open to me.
“Breathe, angel,” I murmur, leaning in to kiss the side of her neck. “You’ve done beautifully.”
When I scoop her into my arms, she melts against me, her head resting on my shoulder. Her trust, her surrender, is everything. I carry her towards the closest private room. The applause erupts around us, but I ignore it, focused entirely on the woman in my arms. She’s trembling, but her smile is radiant, her eyes heavy-lidded with contentment.
In the private room, the world slows. I lay her on the soft cushions, brushing her hair back from her face.
“You’re incredible,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
She smiles up at me, her eyes soft and full of love. “Only because you make me feel safe.”
I take my time tending to her, massaging her back, running my hands over every inch of her skin until she’s completely relaxed. Then, when her breathing evens out and she nods her consent, I lower myself over her, pressing her into the cushions as I slide into her.
This isn’t about power or dominance. It’s about us – about the life we’ve built together, the trust we’ve fought for, and the love that binds us. And as we move together, I know without a doubt that this is my legacy. She is my everything.