Chapter Sixteen
Max
She’s docile after the shower. I don’t make the mistake of assuming it’ll last—and it doesn’t.
As soon as I’m finished drying her off and lead her to the bedroom, still naked, I feel tension bunch her muscles.
Any languidness from the shower disappears—she’s probably remembering that she has the punishment of a lifetime coming her way.
“Max,” she starts slowly.
I don’t let her finish. I toss her on the bed, grab the chain connecting her hands, and attach it to a carabiner on the headboard, locking it down.
That’s when the struggle really begins. She writhes, trying to kick off the bedsheets. Shouts death threats and profanities at me. Bares her teeth like a wild animal.
I leave her to her tantrum and go into the closet, heading to the dresser stocked specifically with toys.
I started preparing as soon as Greyson told me I had to find a chosen—back when he was still being a prick to Scarlett and I’d grown protective of her.
It was a turbulent time in our friendship, but we’ve gotten past it.
I consider my options for a few beats. Ember does not strike me as experienced whatsoever, which means starting out slow would probably be for the best—but so would introducing her to some lower-grade implements that I’ll be using on her.
I select a shiny leather crop, a pair of light nipple clamps, a spreader bar, a small plug, and a bottle of lube. Not too intense for a first time punishment, but by no means light.
When I return to the bedroom, I see that Ember’s anger has been replaced with panic. Her eyes are wide, like a wild dog’s. Her breaths are uneven, and she’s close to hyperventilating.
I don’t want her to have a panic attack or go statue-still like she did the first time I spanked her, so I drop everything at the foot of the bed, and help myself to a seat beside her. I cup her chin in my hand and direct her to look at me, keeping my eyes off her tempting body.
I am itching to get to work, but this has to be done right. She went straight into subspace last time, whether or not she realized it or even knew what it was—I want to replicate that. Both of us maintaining some level of calm is essential to that.
“Ember,” I say calmly. “I need you to take a few deep breaths with me. I’m not going to do anything that will break you. I’m not even going to be that hard on you. I’m mad for the shit you pulled, but I don’t want to extinguish you, Flame. Only stop you from turning that fire on me.”
Her eyes flare. “I will never stop—”
“You will,” I cut off calmly. “Not because I force you to, but because you’ll want to.”
“You make many assumptions about me all while knowing nothing about who I am.”
“I know everything about who you are—or who you were.”
“I’m willing to bet I’m a very different person from the girl you knew.”
“That’s true.” I nod. “But this new persona was founded on the building blocks of who you were, whether or not you remember her.”
“You’re free to live in delusions. I, however, prefer to subscribe to reality.”
Her sharp tongue is all the confirmation I need that she’s calmed down. She’s no longer frozen or bordering hyperventilation—though her chest is heaving with labored breaths of anger.
I want it to heave with something else. I want to watch unbearable desire build in her expression until it’s all she feels. The list of things I want to do to this incredible woman is endless, and more, I want to show her how much she’ll like them.
She proved to be a natural sub when I spanked her the first time.
“Let’s go over some ground rules,” I say.
“You have even more of them? Haven’t you learned that I’m not very obedient?”
I wrap my hand around her slender, elegant neck. “I’ll make you into my good girl yet. Just wait and see. Now, these rules are only applicable when I’m punishing or playing with you.”
“I’m not a toy to play with.”
“You are my toy—sometimes. This is one of those times. Cut the sass, seal those pretty lips, or I’ll assume you want me to fill them with something.
” Her lips promptly close, and I hide a smile.
“You will address me as sir.” Ignoring her disbelief, I go on.
“If you want me to stop something, you don’t command; you beg, and make the begging good.
I’m a hedonist, Flame, and I intend to enjoy you thoroughly. ”
Her brows furrow. “You’re not a hedonist; you’re an imbecile.”
I arch an eyebrow at her. She has the good sense to shut the fuck up.
“Don’t mistake my care for leniency. I can be lenient, but only if you earn it.
Thus far, you’ve been nothing but a brat.
I don’t care to punish your backtalk unless you’re deliberately trying to rile me, but I will punish you when you do stupid things. Sassing to Cain? Incredibly stupid.”
I’m amazed he didn’t choke her to death, but then again, he knows as well as I do the sort of respect Viper commands in our world.
Viper is known as the assassin boogeyman, the malevolent force other assassins whisper about in dark rooms. I’m still shocked—and incredibly fucking proud—that Ember is Viper.
The disbelief wore off as soon as I looked in the mirror; she worked me over good.
One of my eyes is black, my cheek is blue, my nose is swollen, and there are bruises covering my body.
If I hadn’t seen her coming, I’m not too proud to admit that she probably could’ve taken me.
“You don’t get a safeword, but you will get my word that I intend to watch you very closely, and I’ll pull back before pushing you too far. Make no mistake, I’ll push the hell out of you, but I have no desire to break you.”
“I don’t believe you.” Her words are soft, almost resigned. They tug at my heart, but so does the need to prove her wrong. To show her that I’m not like the other men who hurt her, and the distinguishing difference is that I care about her. I’ve always cared about her, and I always will.
She’s my first everything—except for fuck. First kiss, first time cuddling with a woman, first time caring about someone else more than I cared for myself. She was one of my absolute favorite humans… until she disappeared.
I trail my hand down her neck and to her breasts, cupping each one and testing their weight.
They’re not the largest, but not small, either.
They’re elegant and demure. The perfect handful.
I’ve never particularly cared about the size of a girl’s tits; I care more about them being natural and perky, with sensitive nipples I can play with and torture to my heart’s content.
I fill both my hands with Ember’s breasts, letting her get used to the feeling of me handling them.
She looks serious and withdrawn at first, but slowly, as I start massaging them, she relaxes.
Swallows. Her brows pinch in confusion, and I watch her every reaction, soaking it up like fresh glacier water.
I don’t think she understands her own sexuality. It’s clear nobody’s ever introduced her to the pleasures of the flesh, and I am most happy to be the first.
When I think she’s ready, I start brushing my fingers over her nipples. Lightly, at first, but with increasing pressure as I see flickers of pleasure and desire cross her expression, though she does her best to hide them.
When I begin pinching them, a barely-audible whine escapes her throat. I pinch harder; she tugs at her hands, and her thighs clench. She’s a sensitive little thing, and I’d bet a limb that she’s growing wet. I can see the arousal in her eyes.
She might be inexperienced, but she’s not unreceptive.
I reach for the clamps. She’s so caught up in the new sensations, she doesn’t notice until I firmly pinch her nipple, and close the teeth of one of the clamps around it.
Then, her desire is replaced by pain and panic, but she doesn’t have a normal reaction to it. My soul withers as I watch her blink, clench her jaw, and then her expression slowly dies out, going blank. Her eyes lose their glimmer, her gaze becomes vacant.
Not on my watch. This isn’t the sort of punishment she’s used to—it never will be, and I will not permit her to dissociate. I want her present in body and mind, and I want her to feel everything I do to her, not disconnect from it.
I grip her chin, sharply turning her head to face me. “Look at me,” I growl, mentally making a note that blindfolds are off the table permanently. Her eyes are the most expressive part of her, and if this disconnect is her go-to, I need to see them to make sure she’s not retreating into her mind.
She blinks, and her eyes come into focus, locking on my own. Her throat bobs with a swallow as I increase the pressure on the clamps, and her lips part around a gasp. Better.
“You don’t get to slip away when I’m playing with you,” I tell her sternly.
“I don’t know what was done to you—though, trust me, I will find out—but I’m not them.
I’m not Dagon, or whoever else hurt you.
I’m me. The principle difference is that I give a fuck about your wellbeing.
I will never scar you. I will never break you beyond repair. Do you understand me?”
She doesn’t respond, staring at me with caution.
I flick the clamp on her nipple, and her back arches. “Do you understand me?” I repeat, harsher than I intend.
She nods. Licks her lips and blinks ten times in a row.
“Words,” I chide.
“Yes.” Her voice is soft and distant, but at least she’s present.
“Yes, what?”
She rolls her eyes—rolls her eyes. “Yes, sir.”
“Good girl.”
She doesn’t go hazy as I put the other clamp on, though she does wince and struggle her way through it.
Every time her gaze wanders, I snap her attention back to me with a sharp command. I give her time to adjust to the clamps, my mouth watering at the prospect of sucking her nipples when they come off. They’ll be unbearably sore and sensitive, and I intend to have no mercy.
I glance back at the butt plug, then decide against it. Clamps and a crop will be enough for today. I don’t want to push her too far too fast—we’ll have more and more fun as time goes on, but severely overwhelming her will work against me.
“Remember when I said I’d redden your ass until you couldn’t sit? We’re going to get to that part now. I’m going to turn you over—brace on your elbows to keep the clamps from coming off—and then I’m going to crop your ass until it’s a pretty shade of red.”