Daniel stood beside the whipping post, his arms crossed. Julie recognized his expression immediately and shifted her eyes to the floor. It took all her self-control not to drop to her knees in supplication. Her belly twisted at the realization she still craved it. Still needed it.
Cole stopped them from moving any closer. “Stay here. We don’t want anyone to get too close or accidentally move within range.”
Sasha swayed against Julie and stumbled forward.
Cole caught her, placing his hands on her shoulders. “Easy there, little one. Are you okay?”
Sasha nodded and glanced down at his bracelet. “Yes, sir.”
“Look at me. Do you need to sit? Should I get you a chair?”
“No, sir. I’m fine.”
Cole didn’t look convinced. “Inhale deeply through your nose for me. Good girl. Now out through the mouth. Good job. Again.”
Julie had respected Cole as a writer, but watching him with Sasha, she realized she respected him as a Dom, too.
“Feel better?” he asked Sasha after she’d settled.
“Yes, sir.”
“Don’t lock your knees.” He looked to Julie. “Good to see you again, Julie.”
“Likewise.”
His lips tightened into a thin line and his accent was clipped. “Address me properly, sub.”
She stared at him in shock. At the moment he didn’t look at all like the easygoing journalist who’d entertained her at dinner weeks ago. Instead he looked hard and unyielding.
“My bracelet’s white,” she said.
His eyes were cold. “Let me assure you of two things. One, my eyesight is perfect; therefore, I know exactly what color your bracelet is. And two, you don’t want me to ask you to do something twice.”
She believed him, adding “scary” to the list of adjectives to describe him. “Good to see you again, too, sir.”
He nodded and went to stand beside Dena.
A hush descended on the room as Peter and Jeff entered. Peter’s shirt was off and Jeff kept a hand on his upper arm as though he feared the other man would flee. Julie’s stomach dropped to her knees when the pair reached Daniel and he buckled Peter to the post with his back facing the crowd.
Daniel placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder and spoke quietly to the bound man. Peter nodded at whatever it was Daniel said and even from where she stood, Julie saw Peter’s body flinch. Jeff took a gag, buckled it around Peter’s head. Then Jeff moved to stand in front of him, facing the crowd, but his attention was on Peter.
It was as if the entire room held its breath when Daniel stepped forward, coiled whip in hand.
Sweat dripped down Julie’s shoulder blades and she tried to reconcile the whip-wielding man in front of her with the one who’d pressed a sweet kiss to her forehead less than thirty minutes earlier. She wanted to close her eyes, but found herself mesmerized as Daniel swung the whip over his head and brought it down across Peter’s back.
One.
Beside her, Sasha jumped and Julie didn’t have to look down to know she was giving her silent safe word.
The whistle of the whip once more broke the stillness, followed by the unmistakable slash of its tail meeting flesh.
Two.
By five, Sasha was mumbling under her breath. By ten, Daniel was breathing heavily. By fifteen, Julie would have given damn near anything to leave the room and she knew they were only half-done.
Daniel became another person in front of her. She didn’t doubt his claim at being an expert with the whip. In his hand, the implement became an extension of himself. He was more than an expert; he was an artist. But her stomach felt sour as she saw the welts appear on Peter’s back, because she realized Daniel’s canvas was flesh.
When the count became twenty, she started counting down. Ten more and she could leave. Nine. Eight.
She moved her gaze from Daniel to Peter and though she knew nothing about whips, she could tell the difference between Sasha’s back and Peter’s. Where Sasha’s had been a mess of crisscrossing lines, the marks on Peter were evenly placed and completely symmetrical.
Three.
Two.
One.
Had she been paying attention to Sasha the way she should have been, she would have anticipated her fall. As it was, Cole caught her seconds before she hit the floor.
“Easy, now,” he said, scooping her up as if she weighed nothing. “Dena, blanket please.”
“Is she okay?” Julie asked Cole, feeling rather weak herself.
“Master Greene,” Cole said, still holding Sasha. “Bring me two chairs.”
Seconds later, Julie was being helped into a chair by the Dom she recognized as Peter’s new mentor.
“Are you okay?” he asked, one hand on her shoulder.
“Yes, sir,” she said, the simple act of sitting down making her feel better.
Beside her, Cole sat holding Sasha in his lap, a blanket tucked around her legs. He looked slightly uncomfortable, but he held her all the same, and when she started to fidget, he murmured softly to her.
Julie risked a look at Daniel.
Peter had been released and the gag removed. He stood near the post, shoulders shaking, while Daniel dressed his back. In her mind, though, she still pictured him with the whip, his face hard as stone, and his arm moving back only to strike again.
Her stomach rolled once more.
“Master Greene,” Daniel said as he finished taking care of Peter’s wounds, and his voice was rough and deep. “Bring your mentee his shirt.”
Once Daniel had helped Peter into his shirt and talked to him face-to-face, he turned and walked across the room with long, quick strides. He breezed past Julie’s seat, and she wasn’t sure if she was hurt or relieved he didn’t look her way, but his face was focused only on the exit.
“Should I go to him, sir?” Dena asked Cole.
“No,” Cole said. “He has to handle it his own way. Let him be.”
“Red,” Sasha said, eyes blinking. “Red.”
“Shh, little one,” Cole said, rubbing her arms. “You’re safe. It’s okay.”
Sasha’s eyes flew open and she struggled to break free. “I’m fine. Let me go. Please, sir. Please.”
Cole gently unwrapped the blanket and helped her to her feet. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, thank you, sir.”
Julie felt cold taking in the scene around her. From Peter, hunched and hurting at the front of the room. Sasha, troubled and trembling while trying to be strong. Even Daniel, who’d left the room as though the demons of hell were following behind him. Nothing spoke of wholeness or completeness. All of it spoke of danger and darkness. And in that moment she decided once and for all that BDSM was not for her.
NINE
Daniel wasn’t surprised when Cole found him in his office hours later. The house was empty and quiet, all the group members having left, showing themselves out. Or maybe Cole had done it. Daniel wasn’t sure. He swirled the scotch in his glass. He wasn’t sure he cared.
“Knock. Knock,” Cole said, stepping inside the office.
“Go away.”
“No. It’s been three hours and that’s your limit. One hour to sulk, one to jog, one to think.”
“It wasn’t a normal scene.” Daniel took a sip of scotch.
“Which is why I allowed you to sit in here and drink. Now it’s time to talk.”
“Fuck you, Cole.”
“You know he deserved every lash you gave him and then some.”
Daniel snorted.
“Just what I thought,” Cole said. “This isn’t about Peter.”
“Of course it is. It’s his damn fault. If it weren’t for him, I’d still have her.”