Chapter 5
Paige
For a moment, I fear he will turn me down. I understand his hesitation, but I don’t think I can fully relax until he dominates me. I need him to make me cry. I need to purge three years of pent-up frustration.
Submission and masochism is in my blood. I’ve given it up for three long years. I need it back, and I’m so damn glad I didn’t have to hunt down a random Dom I’ve never met to scene with. I might have cried all night just from the fact it would be such a huge reminder that somewhere in the world my man was probably at another club somewhere with some sub who was not me. Probably his wife.
I’ve never looked Dane up online. I couldn’t. It would be too risky. I haven’t touched social media in three years. I don’t own the latest smartphone or a computer. Those were the hardest things to give up. Not for the social aspects but because I’m a fucking computer genius. Or I was. After three years, I probably can’t turn a gadget on. Technology changes too fast.
Dane takes the items I pulled from the armoire from me. He sets them on the bed and strides back to me.
My breath hitches when he bends down to unzip my boots and pull them off. He rises in front of me and sets his hands on my hips. “You were always naked when I dominated you.”
I turn in his arms. “Undo the back of the corset for me?”
He reaches for the zipper and slowly lowers it. “How did you get it on?”
“It wasn’t easy. I bought this kind so I wouldn’t have to cinch it up. There was no way I could have done that. I zipped it up at the front and held my breath while I spun it around.”
He sets his lips on my shoulder and kisses me. “I missed your skin.”
I missed his everything .
I’m holding the front of the corset, covering my breasts, while he lowers the zipper of my skirt. It falls to the floor, leaving me in black lace panties and the open corset I’m holding across my chest.
Dane tucks his fingers in the elastic at my waist and eases the panties down my legs. “Step out, baby.” His voice is rough.
I do as he says, my head shifting into a submissive place I haven’t experienced in three years.
When he stands again, he’s still behind me. He gently takes the corset from my hands and tosses it onto the bed. His arms come around my middle below my breasts, and he holds me close.
I shiver. This is surreal. I close my eyes and sway in his embrace. Seconds pass. Minutes. It’s so peaceful. I’m centering myself in my submission. I assume he’s finding his dominant side.
When Dane finally turns me around, he holds me by the biceps at arm’s length and lets his gaze roam down my body. I wait for him to find my scars.
His breath hitches, and he bends to kiss the pucker of skin on my left breast and then along the scar beneath it. “Tell me about these. I haven’t even asked about your injuries.”
“I was shot in the chest,” I whisper. “The bullet hit my lung. I had broken ribs and a collapsed lung. It took several hours of surgery to repair them. Two of my ribs were shattered. That’s why I wasn’t awake for a few days.”
He closes his eyes, and he sets his forehead against mine. “I’m so sorry.”
“Me, too, Dane.” I reach for his tie. I’m naked. He’s fully clothed.
He starts undoing the buttons of his shirt.
“Is this what you wear to work?”
“Yes. We’re very professional in the office.”
“How many employees do you have?”
“Eight. Two of them moved with me. You know them. JT and Brant.”
I pull his tie free and set my palms on his chest. God, I’ve missed this, missed him . Human contact. I push at his shirt. He’s not getting it off fast enough. I lean into him, kissing his pecs while I spread my fingers all over his enormous muscles. “You’re bigger than you were.”
“I’ve had a lot of time to work out. It’s the only way I could relieve my frustration.”
“You had the club, too.”
“Yeah. I did. I joined Edge two years ago and claimed this apartment on the third floor a year ago when the space opened up.”
I hate to ask more, so I don’t.
He takes my chin and tips my head back. His gaze is intense. “I’ve played with women, baby. I’ve scened. I’ve brought women up here to play privately. I have not been in any relationships. No one has meant anything to me. I’m pretty sure Drake, Easton, and some of the other top-tier members have been plotting an intervention to help me get my head out of my ass. They’ve let me wallow long enough.”
I don’t know why I’m glad no one meant anything to him. It’s not fair. I easily could have found him married and wouldn’t have been able to do a thing about it. But he’s not. He’s still mine.
“No one has stayed over in this apartment. No one has slept in the bed. And, baby, no woman has ever been in my penthouse.”
Wow. I’m sure I’ve been more celibate than him since I haven’t touched a single man at all, but my situation is different. I’ve been trapped in a lie. The marshal told me to move on with my life. I wasn’t forbidden from meeting anyone and getting married, but I couldn’t bring myself to even go on a date. I couldn’t stand pretending. I would have had to share details about my entirely invented past with someone and keep up that lie, possibly forever. Because the truth is the authorities might never find Damion Tombeck. Putting me in witness protection didn’t just keep my friends and my father safe; it also kept me alive. As long as Tombeck has no idea there were any survivors, he isn’t looking for me to take me out.
Dane has not been living a lie. He’s simply been mourning my death.
He hasn’t touched me intimately yet except to kiss my breast, but I asked him to dominate me, so he’s focused on that. He turns me and guides me to the spanking bench in the middle of the room. He lifts me by the hips and sets me on my knees on the padded section.
Instead of leaning over the top of the bench, I watch as he removes his shoes and socks. He often liked to dominate me barefoot. I love his feet. He has nice feet. There’s something intimate about him taking off his shoes and socks. Now, his only clothes are his slacks and, I assume, briefs underneath. He wouldn’t remove those while he dominates me.
“You know what to do, Paige.” He points to the bench.
I do. I lower myself onto the top. I feel exposed and vulnerable. My knees are wide. My pussy is open. It’s slightly raw because I shaved this morning. I haven’t done so for years. Why would I bother? But in my mad attempt to start a new life tonight, I shaved before coming to Edge.
My breasts press into the leather bench, and I rest my forearms on the two sections below my shoulders. I close my eyes, centering myself.
Dane sets a hand on my butt. “You haven’t changed.”
“I’ve put on weight.”
“Not much. I can’t tell. Maybe you’re slightly softer, but it’s sexy.”
I smile. I always loved the way he spoke about me so reverently, admiring my body in a way that made me feel as sexy as he insisted.
He strokes my skin. “I’ve missed this.”
“Me, too.”
“Safeword?”
I lift my head and twist to look at him. I grin. “Did you forget it?”
“Nope. Did you?”
I chuckle. “No. Stupid.”
“Did you just call me stupid, Paige?”
I giggle. He knows I didn’t. He knows I don’t like the word stupid or how flippantly people use it. It’s my safeword.
“Red, yellow, and green are still universal. Use any of them, Paige.”
“I will, Sir.”
He grips my ass. “Fuck, I missed that.”
“Mmm. I’ll say it again, Sir.”
He bends over and kisses the base of my spine. “I’m not going to fuck you tonight, Paige. I think we’re both too raw. But if you want me to give you an orgasm after I spank you, I will do that.”
I consider arguing with him. I need his cock inside me. But he’s probably right. We should take some time to get to know each other again before we add a physical component to our new relationship.
I sigh.
He chuckles. “What a naughty girl.”
After another gentle caress to my bottom, he lifts his hand and swats me. Not hard. He’s warming me up. But I moan. It’s been three years since I’ve experienced this. When I came to Edge tonight, I had hoped to find someone I would be willing to let spank me, but I never dreamed I would end up over a bench with Dane dominating me in his private apartment. Not in a million years.
He sets a hand on the small of my back and spanks me two more times, once on each cheek.
Tears fall. Yet more tears. When will they dry up? Not for days or weeks. I can’t stop them. I’m crying for all I lost and for what I’ve found.
Dane turns and slides a hand up into my hair. He caresses my neck. He leans over and kisses my shoulder. “I think this is a bad idea.”
I shake my head and sniffle. “No. Please. I need this.”
“Baby…”
I lift my head and turn it to fully look at him. Damn, he’s handsome. He’s also concerned. His brow is furrowed tightly. “I need you to spank me, Dane. I need it like I need oxygen. I need it to feel alive. I need to feel grounded. I need to cry hard and then sleep harder. Please.”
He nods and leans down to kiss my cheek. “Okay, baby.”
Dane slides back down my body, keeping his hands on me at all times. He moves his palm to my lower back again, applying just the right amount of pressure. His next swat is harder.
I exhale and settle into it like I’m getting a massage. Some people like to have their body rubbed with essential oils. I like to have my ass spanked.
Dane increases the pressure, helping me slide into a deeper subspace. It’s like coming home. I could have maybe gotten this from another Dom tonight if I hadn’t run into Dane, but this is so much better. I wouldn’t have trusted another Dominant as deeply as I trust Dane. I know I do not need to worry about him going too far. He knows what I need and how much I can take.
My bottom is heating up. So are the backs of my thighs. I focus on the burn, letting it penetrate deep inside, not just the immediate area but my entire body.
When he pauses to check on me, running his hand through my hair, I’m far calmer. I’m silently crying, but not in a stress-induced way. More from relief.
Dane lifts my head by the hair. I used to love it when he did that, and I suck in a breath at the memory. My pussy floods. “Your bottom is delightfully pink, Paige. Are you ready for my flogger?”
“Yes, please, Sir.”
He holds my gaze, searching, looking for any signs that I’m not okay.
“Green, Sir.”
He kisses my forehead. He’s kissed me everywhere but my lips. I hope he will add that soon. Maybe it’s too much. Too intimate.
Dane settles my head gently back onto the bench, my face in his direction. He sweeps my hair away from my forehead.
I watch as he picks up the flogger. He trails the strands across my heated skin over and over, making me salivate for more. I want the supple leather against my pinkened ass. I always loved it when he spanked me and struck me with something else after. I can’t wait for the paddle. It will be the icing on the cake.
Dane sets his hand on my back again before I hear a swoosh through the air and then the fall of soft leather lands against my butt. Maybe I should have chosen something with more bite. I wasn’t sure I would be ready for that.
Dane knows me well, though. He knows what to do to give me the pain I crave. When I whimper, he swings the flogger harder, giving me a deeper experience. He’s so precise. I love that he braces his entire body and uses his wrist to swat me.
Minutes go by while he flogs me. I slide into a glorious subspace. God, I’ve missed this. The way I start to float. The pain—a welcome reminder that I’m alive. I know I’m crying, but it’s silent and necessary. It’s just tears. Tears of relief.
He sets the flogger aside and squats in front of my face, putting us at eye level. He strokes my cheek, wiping away the tears.
“Green, Sir,” I whisper without him asking.
He smiles. His brow isn’t furrowed now. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.” He threads his fingers in my hair. “I might get used to the blond. The blue eyes are weird, though. I feel like I’m staring into someone else’s eyes on my girl.”
“Contacts,” I murmur. “I’ll take them out.” I groan. “My bag. I left it in the locker room.”
“I’ll have Easton or Drake get it in a bit when the club is empty. Do you know which locker you used?”
“Uhh… On the left. Bottom right corner. Can’t remember the number. I just tucked it in there.”
“They’ll find it.”
I nod and lift my hand to cup his face. “Restrain me.”
He turns his lips into my palm and kisses it. “No, baby. We didn’t negotiate that. You’re too deep in subspace.”
I pout, pushing out my lip.
He chuckles. “No, baby. Next time.”
“Fine.” I should have known he wouldn’t restrain me in the middle of a scene. He would never switch things up. It’s comforting knowing he hasn’t changed, even though I’d really like to feel the restriction from being cuffed at my wrists and ankles. I always got hornier when he strapped me down. The more he immobilized me, the more aroused I got. I’m craving that. The fact that he refused makes me almost as hot. It endears me to him.
“Ready for the paddle?”
“Yes, Sir.” My butt tingles at the idea. My pussy clenches. I know the pain will come close to pushing me over the edge. He might not need to touch me for me to come, but I sure hope he does.
The first slap of the paddle against my heated ass makes me lift my head and cry out. It hurts so good. It’s unexpected. I hadn’t fully remembered how it feels.
Now I do. Fuck, that’s good.
Dane strikes again, lower, at the juncture of my butt cheeks with my thighs. The vibrations from the swat make my pussy tingle.
He lands the paddle on the back of my left thigh next before doing the same to the other. I know I’m going to have dark-red skin when he’s finished.
A harder slap against my bottom. This one rattles my teeth. I groan loudly.
“Let it go, baby. Let go of the pain. Give it to me.”
His words would confuse a new sub, but I know what Dane is saying. He wants me to break. He wants me to cry for real. He wants me to release my fucked-up thoughts to the universe. I want that, too. I need it. He knows I do.
Another hard strike, this one taking my breath away. The pain is intense. It’s delicious. It’s life-affirming. I want more. I hope he won’t stop too soon.
“Color, Paige.”
“Green, Sir,” I shout. I don’t want him to stop. If he stops paddling me before I have a chance to fly out of my body, it will be like edging me and then not letting me come.
Dane slides a hand down my spine, making me shiver. His palm lands on my lower back again, pressing down firmly. Without the restraints, he knows I might squirm too far in any direction and cause him to strike me in an unintended location.
Another slap of wood on flesh.
I gasp. Hurts. So good. More .
He waits until I give a frustrated groan to paddle me again. Lower.
“ Fuck ,” I cry out.
He chuckles. “Fuck is not a safeword.” He strikes me again, unexpectedly. My eyes roll back. My body trembles. My pussy is dripping. Tears stream down my cheeks. I keep my head lifted. I’m so close to nirvana. I’m going to shatter, and it will be so fucking amazing.
Another strike. Higher. Painful.
I clench my cheeks, forgetting about my greedy pussy. The pain is pulsing now. My ass really hurts. I know he’s watching me closely. He would never break my skin. The fact that I can trust him to give me exactly what I need is allowing me to soar.
I brace myself for the next strike. My body is humming. Every inch of me is screaming with need. The need to shatter.
When it lands, I stop breathing. I tip my head back, arching all the way off the bench. I lift my forearms and use my hands to brace myself. Pain drives through me. It radiates down my arms and legs. It makes me grit my teeth.
I hover in this strange space between shock and release, tingling from head to toe. And then I fall apart. A piercing primal cry leaves my mouth. It echoes through the apartment.
All the oxygen leaves my lungs as I start to sob violently. So many emotions flow out of me. Three years’ worth of hurt and sadness. Anguish and desperation. Loss and soul-deep pain. It all comes out of me in my tears.
Dane scoops me off the bench and cradles me to his chest. He wraps something soft around me while I sob. I’m partially aware of him pulling back the covers on the bed and climbing up to lower us onto the cool sheets.
He has both arms around me, holding me tight. He even grips both of my wrists with one of his hands, securing my arms between my breasts. If he didn’t, I would flail and fight him.
He knows.
He knows.
He knows .
I cry forever. Sometimes, it slows to sniffles, but then the sobbing begins again. Dane never lets me go. He keeps me spooned against him. He whispers things I can’t hear. He kisses my temple often.
It’s not until I begin to relax my muscles and start hiccupping that he eases his grip. I’m a mess. I’m sure mascara is running down my cheeks. My face is probably covered with black smudges.
“You’re safe now,” he murmurs. It’s a funny thing to say, but I guess I am. Was I worried about my safety? Yes. Every day. Every night. I’ve had nightmares where I woke up in a cold sweat.
Two kinds.
The kind where Damion Tombeck stares at me in that bank, aims his gun, and delivers the final shot that will end my life. A shot that never happened in real life because his rifle was either jammed or out of ammunition.
And the second kind.
The kind where he’s in my apartment, hovering over me in the present. He’s found me, and he’s holding a plastic bag that he intends to put over my face, suffocating me until my life is snuffed out.
I shudder. Violently.
“Hey…” Dane rolls me partly onto my back. “I’ve got you.”
I nod, sniffling. He’s got me.
I’m safe.
I’m safe .