Taking It All (Surrender Trilogy #3)(43)

“Start with the leather flogger,” Tate directed.

She took immediate comfort in hearing her husband’s voice and her early apprehension eased and melted away as Tate took control of the situation. She relaxed, mentally preparing herself for the first kiss of fire.

“Administer ten blows, spread out so her flesh is evenly marked and colored,” Tate continued. “When you are finished, offer her the appropriate praise and then bring her close to orgasm with your hands and mouth. Then switch to the leather strap and mark her ass so that when you f**k her ass the flesh will have been scorched by fire. As I said, her mouth is mine, and I’ll f**k it while you f**k her ass. She doesn’t come again until she’s been flogged, untied and is being held down by the men waiting.”

She closed her eyes as his words flashed like wildfire through her mind. She was bombarded by a host of decadent, sinful images, and already she could feel her body climbing to orgasm and they hadn’t even yet begun.

A gasp exploded from her when the first lash landed across her ass. She’d been so absorbed in the dreamy fantasy Tate was describing that she hadn’t braced herself for the first blow.

Her eyes flew open and yet she could see neither man, not James nor her husband. Only the wall stared back at her. She was positioned facing away from the rest of the entire room. For all she knew everyone was observing her flogging. That didn’t bother her. She’d long since gotten over any shyness when it came to being naked in front of strangers. But she didn’t like not being able to see Tate. She knew he was there, but he wasn’t in her line of sight.

She wanted to see the approval and pride in his eyes. She wanted to be able to lock gazes with him and share the intensely personal connection between them. To forget that anyone other than the two of them existed, even if another man was charged with her submission.

Her jaw clenched and she winced when another blow rained down on her. James wasn’t as careful as Tate was in the administration of his lashes. There was something undisciplined about James’s flogging, almost as if he lacked the proper experience for the job. Or perhaps he was merely a sadist who only cared for his pleasure and didn’t concern himself with the delicate line between pain and pleasure for her.

There were no words of praise or approval from James as Tate had demanded. Nor did James offer her the pleasure Tate had instructed him to. Where the hell was Tate? Why wasn’t he admonishing James for not heeding Tate’s dictates?

There was no break between the flogger and the leather strap. Fire spread rapidly over her skin and she bit into her lip to prevent the cry of pain. This was no longer about pleasure. Certainly not hers at least.

And then she felt an insistent prodding at her anal opening and she realized James was trying to force his way in without the aid of lubricant. This was not the way Tate had told him to do things. Why wasn’t Tate putting a stop to it?

“Relax, damn it,” James growled, his fingers digging into her hips. She was certain she’d wear bruises from his grasp. “You’re going to get f**ked and it’s up to you whether this is easy or hard.”

She cried out, shocked that he’d persist and that Tate had nothing to say. And then, as if to punish her for her resistance, James cracked the strap down over her shoulder blades as he thrust more forcefully into her reluctant body.

Tears ran down her cheeks and sobs welled from her throat. “No! Stop! I don’t want this,” she said in a garbled tone.

Her safe word. God, what was it? Her mind was a chaotic mess of fear and pain.

“Rain,” she croaked out. “Rain!”

SEVENTEEN

TATE had just uttered his last command to James when his cell phone vibrated against his side. Out of habit, he glanced down quickly to pull out the phone enough so he could identify the incoming caller, fully intending to hit ignore.

He swore under his breath before glancing back up to where James had administered the second lash of the flogger. This was an important call but it had to come now of all times? Tabitha Markham had strung him along for weeks over whether she was going to transfer her late husband’s portfolio—her inheritance—to Tate’s firm and he was supposed to have a firm commitment from her any moment. Apparently she’d chosen now to inform him of her decision.

This was going to have to be quick.

He yanked up the phone, glanced at Chessy, who was facing away from him, and then uttered a crisp hello.

“Tate? Where are you? I can’t hear you.”

Tabitha’s voice was strident in his ear. He wasn’t in the mood to chitchat. He just wanted her decision so he could get back to much more important matters. Like his wife and salvaging their marriage.

He walked a few steps away toward the corner where things were a little quieter and he could also keep an eye on Chessy.

“Can you hear me now?” he asked.

“Yes, much better. I called you because I have some concerns. You’ve been very hard to get in touch with lately and as my financial advisor, I’d require that I be able to get in contact with you at all times.”

Tate’s brow furrowed and he turned away from Chessy and James, wanting to put his fist through the wall.

“I can assure you that I am available at all times for my clients,” he said tersely.

“Well that remains to be seen, does it not? If you aren’t available before I become your client it hardly seems likely that you’ll be available once you win me over.”