Chapter 23
What am I trying to prove? I know I’ve made a terrible mistake as soon as the Dom clasps the back of my neck.
I’m only asking for an introduction, to go slowly since it’s new to me.
But his grip is hard, painful as he leads me into one of the rooms. But it’s nothing compared to the first swipe of the cane.
“Red,” I gasp. “I’ve made a mistake, please stop.”
All I hear is a wicked laugh, when I twist my head to see what he’s doing, he’s out of my line of sight.
“You wannabes always make it so easy. This will make it better, for me anyway,” he whispers in my ear. “Open up.”
The large smooth ball is pushed in my mouth, past my teeth, to press on my tongue. Shaking my head, trying to dislodge it, has no effect, apart from making his cruel laugh sound in my ear. The straps are around my head, and I feel the buckles tight against my scalp and neck.
He bites my shoulder, then moves away.
As the cane whaps hard on my skin, it’s all I can do to stand. My knees give way as tears fall, blurring my vision of the wall in front of me. Spit drools from my mouth as snot runs from my nose, I feel like I’m not going to be able breathe if he doesn’t stop.
A hammering on the door makes him falter, but it doesn’t stop. A voice shouts out, but I can’t make out the words. He curses as his footsteps tell me he is moving away from me.
The door opens, and he tells whoever it is to fuck off. I whimper, trying to make them notice me. If I can get the attention on me, I may make it out of here.
Fingers are on the straps of the gag and then I’m free of it, only to enter another realm of hell as the straps at my wrists release me. It’s Saint’s soft voice, and my eyes screw up tighter, can I pretend it’s not him? Anyone but him.
“I’ve got you, baby.”
I sag, but his gentle hands keep me from collapsing.
“Go away.” I can’t bear him seeing me like this.
My feet are released from the base of the wooden cross.
I want to curl up into a ball, to make myself disappear.
Why does he have to be the one that stops my terrible mistake?
Why can’t it have been one of the security men?
I close my ears to the words being sparred by the two powerful Doms and give into the feeling of safety in his strong arms. I can’t stop crying, I’m so ashamed.
Saint is silent as we move through the club. I stay still, my eyes closed, too ashamed to see all the eyes on me.
“Are you okay to stand while I get the car door open?” Saint speaks quietly, it’s a side I’ve not seen before, and it’s a little scary. I’m waiting for the anger, the admonishments, his disgust at how stupid I am. Instead, I feel his lips on my hair as he presses a kiss to the sweat-soaked strands.
I nod and wriggle to be put down. The tarmac of the car park is cold on my bare feet, but the door quickly opens, and I sit down. The pain rips through me as my arse and back hit the leather, making me moan.
“We’ll be home soon; can you bear it? Would you rather go to the hospital? I don’t think they’ll be able to do any more than me.”
“God, no. I just want to get into my bed and pretend this never happened.” I lean back slowly this time and close my eyes.
The engine starts, and we move away from the club. I can feel sleep trying to take me, and I readily acquiesce until Saint’s voice breaks the silence. “Royal, it’s me. Can you get to my place, I need you to do something for me.”
“No,” I cry out. “I don’t want him to see me. Take me to my place.” I look at him, his jaw is tight, his eyes hard.
He acts if he hasn’t heard me and continues to talk. “Yes, Noah is with me. I’ll be there in ten minutes.” He presses a button on his steering wheel to end the call. “Don’t mess with me, Noah.”
I sigh and close my eyes again, not wanting to get into an argument in the confines of his truck. I want to be able to stalk off and slam a door. This time when sleep tries to take over, I let it.
The feeling of the engine being killed has my eyes opening. I look at the surroundings and groan. “Take me to my place, please, Saint. I just want to sleep.”
“You can stay with me until you’re healed. Those welts will need treating, and you can’t reach them all.”
Okay, that makes some sense, but he could do it all in my flat. I look out of the window and sigh. “Don’t you think tonight has been bad enough for me without having your brother in on my humiliation.”
“He’s not stopping, I want him to do something for me. Wait here.” He hops out of the truck and walks over to his brother. They talk for a few minutes. Royal’s gaze switches to me, and fury takes over his placid expression. He says something, and with a nod, he gets back in his car.
Saint smiles sadly at me. “Come on, let me get you feeling a little better.”
“Only if you drop the act and get angry with me. I’m used to that side of Saint,” I snap at him.
“Trust me, boy, there’s going to be plenty of that. But right now, I need to get you cleaned up and comfortable. You’re going to be in a lot of pain for the next few days.”
We stare at each other, neither wanting to back down. It’s Saint that throws his arms up and unclicks my seatbelt and hauls me out of the cab and over his shoulder. It seems the gentle Saint has evaporated. I don’t even bother to fight him, I stay still as he carries me up to his flat.
He carries me straight into his bathroom and sits me on the edge of the large bath. “Can you take the shirt off, or is it stuck to your back?”
I move my arms and wince as the cotton pulls on my skin. “I think it’s stuck. You don’t need to do this, Saint, I can manage. It’s all my fault anyway. I deserve it to hurt.”
His eyes turn a steely grey, and his lips curl in a snarl. I shrink back, afraid of him when I never have been before. “You may have made a bad decision, Noah, but the blame is on Oscar for you being hurt, for gagging you after you’d used your safe word. He broke too many rules tonight.”
His eyes stay on mine as he reaches for the top of the shirt, silently asking for my permission.
I don’t have it in me to argue, so I nod my consent.
He slowly pulls my arms out of the sleeves, careful not to let the fabric pull over my back.
The next thing he does has me crying, he wets a washcloth and presses it against my back, loosening the fabric, so it eventually comes away easily.
His tender actions make it impossible for me to curb the tears.
I don’t even care that I’m naked when he picks me back up and carries me to his bedroom.
“Stay still,” he says as he lies me down on my stomach. I watch him disappear, then a cupboard opens and closes. I concentrate on my back, the raw pain has turned into a dull, but very there, throb. Saint comes back in and stands at my side, his eyes on my back, not my face.
“How bad is it? Are there a lot? I lost count, focusing on the fuck up I’d made instead,” I ask, my voice small in the large room.
“I suppose that depends on how many you consider a lot. How long had you been in there before I found you?”
“It felt like a lifetime, but probably only ten minutes. I honestly don’t know.”
“Did he do anything else to you or make you do to him?” His teeth are gritted as his anger towards the arsehole comes back.
“No, he said it was the warm-up, something to make me compliant and learn to be a good sub.”
The anger doesn’t subside, and the longer he stares, the worse I feel.
Guilt pours through me, knowing he’s blaming everyone but me for this.
“Saint, look at me.” I wait until his eyes meet mine.
“This is my fault. I was angry with you. I went there with the intention of finding a Dom that would, what did you say, fuck, fist, and flog? I was stupid, and I’ve paid for it.
Now, would you please use the cream you are squeezing to death or let me get up and go home.
Have you got any painkillers, some paracetamol? ”