Protege(86)

Her stomach twisted as the moment built. She was certain he would use one of those tools soon. It was outside her comprehension how someone could derive pleasure from being whipped. Good for them if they could, but whenever she was struck, it hurt. However, she’d never been whipped and . . . She was really judging them harshly.

Forcing out a cleansing breath, she shook off her reservations and tried to watch with an open mind.

“Peach, you need to open your eyes to see.”

Damn it.

Okay, she was watching—eyes open this time—without reservations or judgment. Sadie obviously was here of her own free will, and Jude had made it perfectly clear that no one entered Fernweh without a safe word.

The leash was tugged and Sadie rose to her feet, her grace a testament to years of practice. Damien turned her to the wall and clamped her limbs in place, leaving her plastered there like a starfish.

He returned to the table and slowly cuffed the sleeves of his dress shirt. When he returned to his wife, a sort of whip—Collette didn’t know the names—dangled at his side.

“That’s a flogger,” Jude whispered. “He’ll use it to sensitize her first. He knows exactly where to strike and the right amount of pressure to achieve the desired effect.”

Which was . . . ?

Damien whispered something in his wife’s ear and she hummed and mumbled something back. Then it began. The whooshing flicks of the flogger filled the silence as Sadie’s gentle moans told of the pleasure she was receiving.

Collette frowned. He was brushing the tassels against his wife’s flesh as much as he was flicking them. A soft pattern slowly rose over Sadie’s skin, but he didn’t appear to be striking her hard at all. Maybe she could try something like this if that was what Jude wanted. But no leash. She couldn’t do the leash. Different strokes for different folks.

When Sadie’s back, thighs, and shoulders were a rosy feathering of pink, he returned to the table. Jude’s fingers probed at Collette’s sex, catching her off guard. He didn’t go deep, probably because she was in such deep concentration she was bone dry.

Damien removed the bindings and shoved his wife to her knees, her back now against the wall. He quickly wrapped her wrists with rope and pulled them high overhead.

Jude’s finger slid deeper. “You like seeing her tied up?”

Perhaps she did. There was something about being restrained, something about the rope that excited her in a way the cuffs against the wall did not.

His thumb stroked her clit as they watched. Damien pulled a hook down and tied the other end of the rope so Sadie’s arms would stay suspended.

Her breasts appeared flat as the muscles of her arms pulled, and then Damien withdrew his erection from his pants. Collette intended to look away, but a second later the flash of hard flesh disappeared in his wife’s mouth.

His palms flattened on the walls as his hips thrust fast—too fast. How was Sadie breathing? All Collette could hear were the slurping, gagging sounds of the woman choking on his cock. It was too much and she couldn’t find the evidence of the love she’d glimpsed earlier.

Turning her face into Jude’s chest she looked away. “He’s so rough with her,” she whispered.

His fingers brushed over her folds, her arousal a forgotten memory. “She enjoys it that way. He does it for her, not to harm her. It’s how she finds release.”

Worried what she’d do if he ever f*cked her mouth that hard while her head was against a wall with nowhere to go, she whispered, “I could never do that.”

“You could, if it were something you wanted, but I draw no pleasure from such coarse play, so you don’t have to worry.”

Then what were they doing there? She didn’t think long on their purpose, because she was more interested in Jude’s promise that she had nothing to worry about. How could he make such a promise when their time was running out and she could possibly be going to someone else? It wasn’t something they’d discussed since his decision to let her stay on as his protégé, but the more time that passed the more she worried her happy balance was about to be shattered.

She didn’t like thinking about how little time they had left. It seemed impossible that three weeks had already passed—impossible that he could let her walk away at this point. She didn’t want to go, and thinking of such a thing made her pull him closer.

Damien stepped back and Collette’s mouth gaped. Sadie’s face was glistening with his come and red with blotches where he’d held her too tight. Yet her eyes . . . there was something strange about her eyes.

The look in her eyes spoke of enchantment, half-lidded fascination, the sort of look woman gives a man after a life-altering orgasm. Sadie really did like it, just as Jude had implied.

Damien unraveled the rope from the hook but didn’t untie her wrists. Dragging a wooden chair from the wall, he pulled her by the rope and had her straddle the seat, kneeling with her thighs parted, chest against the back rungs, and her arms looping around the wooden slats. Collette squinted as she saw the glistening arousal on her thighs.

“He’s going to spank her now until she comes,” Jude whispered.

Collette’s frown deepened. How could someone come from spanking alone, isolated and without sexual contact? BDSM truly confused her. While she adored the aspects of D/s and mild elements of the BD, the SM really didn’t stimulate her on a sexual level at all.