“Damon, that’s not fair.”
He stopped and forced her to turn. “When are you going to learn that nothing in this life is fair? Nothing at all. You dance through life treating it like it is a tea party.”
She tried to pull away from him. “How can you say that? I know very well life isn’t fair. I spent years learning that.”
She’d watched her mum try to please her absent father and then when she’d finally started to find a life without him, her disease had taken over, making her final years a living hell.
“Yes, and you’re going to learn again, aren’t you? Maybe this time the lesson will stick.” He hauled her along until she stumbled a bit. He turned and cursed. For a moment she thought he would just drag her across the floor, but he leaned over and lifted her up, cradling her to his chest though his face was a cold mask.
He strode to the sawhorse, a long apparatus she’d seen used at The Garden. Taggart had kindly adjusted it, apparently knowing exactly how high to place it.
Damon set her on her feet, her heart pounding in her chest. He pulled a knife out of his boot and neatly sliced her corset off. He really was hell on her wardrobe. “Give it to me.”
She was holding it to her chest because everyone was looking at her. The entire dungeon seemed to have moved to this one place, silently staring up at her in utter disapproval.
Shame washed over her.
“I said give it to me.” Damon tapped his foot impatiently.
She couldn’t have it out with him here. Couldn’t. They had a job to do and it seemed she was the only one thinking straight. Tears pierced through her as she passed him the ruined corset. Her collar fell to the floor with an audible thud.
She’d been naked at The Garden, but it hadn’t felt like this. She started to reach for her collar, but Damon was faster.
“I’ll decide if you get this back.” Damon tossed the corset aside, moving close to sink his hand into her hair. With a bite of pain, he tugged her head back so she had to look in his eyes. “Even when I’m brutally angry with you, I want you. Don’t stand there and think you’re anything less than gorgeous. Fuck, Penelope. I’m blindingly mad and I still can’t leave you like this. I can’t let you think you’re less than perfect.”
And just like that she was comfortable again. “Please, can we talk?”
He shook his head. “Not until we’re done. And then everything is going to be different. Ian? Tie her up for me. I need a moment to calm down.”
He stepped away, leaving her with Taggart, who softened slightly the minute his back was turned from the crowd. “Where did my wife go and what did she steal? I’m not crazy in love with you the way Damon is so I can figure out that you two decided to do some work without us. She’s getting her ass spanked, too. If you don’t want him to ruin the thong, you should probably hand it over.”
Somehow after what Damon had said, it was fairly easy to step out of her last bit of clothing. It hadn’t really covered her anyway. “He’s not in love with me. And Charlotte took the target’s kit.”
Ian grinned slightly, though it merely made him look like a happy predator. “The one he’s had with him all day, even at the pool?”
Penny nodded. “Yes. The reporter went to the loo so we thought it might be our only time.”
“I need you to hug the sawhorse. Find a comfy spot.” Taggart held up a nice length of rope. “He has to go through with this, you know. He lost it and now he has to play the badass Dom. He has no idea how to handle himself. Give him some slack, okay?”
She nodded because it was obvious Damon was in over his head. She settled herself over the sawhorse. The long apparatus was padded, the plastic cover touching her breasts.
Taggart knelt down, looping the rope around her wrists with a practiced hand. The knot was tight, but not so much it would cut off her circulation. “He might say some things he doesn’t mean because that man is terrified of what could happen to you. He’s used to losing people, and he can’t stand the thought of losing you. And I swear I’m going to beat the next dude who forces me to play Cupid. I’m not good at it.”
But he was good with a rope. And apparently a spreader. He grabbed a spreader bar and she found her legs spread wide, her ass in the air.
Oh, god, this was going to hurt.
Taggart swiftly locked her ankles into the spreader bar. She was caught and there was no way out except to say her safe word and possibly get both herself and Damon locked out of the place they needed to be. She had to endure whatever Damon was about to give her.
She had to hope it was worth it, that Charlotte had found something that could help them.
Damon stepped up, putting a hand on her. His voice was steady now. “Thank you, Master Ian.”
“You’re welcome. You all right to do this?” Taggart asked.
Damon kept his tone low. “I’m fine. You know I have to do this or we’ll lose access to the dungeon. I’m perfectly in control.”
“Try not to make it so she can’t walk,” Taggart said. “We have a tour of Helsinki tomorrow.”
“I promise nothing.”
She could hear the frown in Damon’s words. She watched as Taggart’s boots moved out of view, and she couldn’t see anything but the floor in front of her.
“I apologize for the actions of my submissive. Her disobedient, reckless behavior reflects on me and my weakness.”
She hated how desolate he sounded. “Master…”
She nearly screamed at the pain that flashed through her whole system as he brought something horrible across her ass. It hit her with a thunk, moving up her spine and speeding along her every nerve ending.
“Do not speak. Do I need to gag you?” Damon moved around the sawhorse. She could see his boots as he stood in front of her.
She shook her head because she wasn’t speaking again.
“Excellent. Perhaps you’ll learn to obey me.” He knelt down, his voice lowering. “You think I’m doing this for show, but I’m not. I didn’t tell you to stay where you were for my happiness. I did it for your safety. And you took your collar off. I don’t care what you thought you were doing or why. The minute you took that collar off you put yourself at risk. The minute you stepped away from where I’d left you, you put yourself in the bloody line of fire, and I won’t have it. You will understand that when I’m done with you, love.” There was a paddle in his hand. A nasty looking round paddle.
He stood back up and almost immediately she felt the paddle on her backside.
“You don’t need to count. I’ll let you know when I’m done.” He smacked her three times, each one harder than the last.
Tears dripped from her eyes. She’d cried more in the last week than in the years before, but it was oddly satisfying. She’d learned that emotion wasn’t a flat thing. It could be multicolored, with more sides than a prism. The pain ached, flaring and causing her to bite her lip against the cries in her throat, but the tears were purifying. They were a release she’d needed for years. She’d been so numb before Damon. She’d smiled and been kind, but it was mostly because she’d been taught to do those things.
She felt it now. Her kindness flowed from an open soul and she never wanted to close it again, never wanted to go back to that place where pain was just pain, where tears were an annoyance, where she had no idea who she really was.
He’d opened her up in more ways than one. Because she was tied down, she had no choice but to endure because she wasn’t going to say her safe word. The spreader bar kept her open, leaving her pussy on display for him.
He was watching. He wanted her like this, needed her naked, and there was nothing wrong with it. He loved her body. He’d proven it over and over again.