What He Guards(12)

“Strip,” he demanded.

I removed my bodysuit and stood there, naked and blushing under his gaze.

“Get down on your knees, Charlotte,” he said. “From now on when we come in this room, I would like you to kneel immediately and await my instructions.”

“Yes, sir.” I kneeled down on the floor and was careful not to make eye contact with him, following the example of the slave waitress.

“Look at me.”

I looked at him.

“Always look at me, Charlotte. I need to see your eyes.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.”

He crossed the room and selected a flogger from his crop of toys. I kept my eyes on him, watching as he moved back over until he was standing in front of me. He took off his jacket, then unbuttoned the sleeves of his shirt and began rolling them up, exposing his muscular forearms. It was the same thing he’d done in Clementine’s office when he’d threatened to pick me up and carry me out of there.

But this time I knew it wasn’t just a threat.

This time there would be punishment.

He gazed down at me, his eyes searing, then walked around so that he was standing behind me. He ran the flogger down over my shoulder, sliding it over the curve of my back.

My hands were on my thighs, and I dug my nails into my skin, waiting in anticipation for the first blow.

But Noah took his time, circling me like a hunter circling his prey.

“Charlotte,” he said. “Do you know why you’re here, in this room, on your knees?”

“Because I sent that email to Ryan Ramos.”

“And what did that do, Charlotte?”

“It put me in danger.”

“That was a very foolish thing to do, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes, sir.”

The flogger came down hard on my ass. He was a perfect shot, the leather strips hitting me square in the middle of my butt cheek. I gasped in surprise and pain.“Please, sir,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

“You will learn to obey me,” he growled, and I could hear the fear and dominance that had been simmering inside of him all day finally boil over as the flogger hit my skin once again.

“Yes, sir,” I said.

He struck me again and again, coming down on the exact same spot on my ass until adrenaline coursed through my veins and dulled the pain. Just when one part of my skin would go numb, he would move the flogger to another area and start the cycle of pleasure and pain all over again.

He flogged me for what seemed like forever, and then he tossed the flogger onto the ground.

He stood in front of me, tall and strong, his chest heaving, his eyes hooded as he stared down at me. The intensity in his gaze was so electric it was almost unbearable to look at him. An invisible force drew me to him, and I wanted to reach out and touch him so badly.

I had to look away, because if I didn’t, I was afraid I would try to move toward him.

“Look at me.”

I forced myself to meet his eyes. He surveyed my body, deciding what kind of exquisite torture he was going to put me through next. This was his domain, and he was going to exercise control over my body in any way he desired.

“Stand up, Charlotte.”

I got to my feet and he pointed to the padded table against the wall.

I walked over and climbed onto it.

“On your back.”

I laid on my back, my heart pounding in anticipation. From out in the main room came the sounds of men jeering and a woman moaning. I closed my eyes and imagined that girl on the stage, her resistance as that man ripped her gown.

“Eyes open, Charlotte,” Noah snapped.

He leaned over me on the table until his lips were so close to mine it would only take me raising my head a fraction of an inch for us to be kissing. “If you close your eyes again, I will flog you, Charlotte, and this time it will be harder.”

I nodded. “Yes, sir.”

He took my hands in his, pulling them up and over my head on the table, and I felt the cool bite of metal as he strapped my wrists into handcuffs, restraining me.

He moved to the end of the table and grabbed my ankle, bending my knee slightly as he began unzipping my shoe. His touch was soft, gentle, as he slipped it off of me. He kissed the arch of my foot, and the bliss it sent buzzing through my body was surprisingly intense.

It wasn’t because he was touching my foot – I’d never much been into that – but because he was suddenly being gentle with me after he’d flogged me and handcuffed me. He was so complicated, a dichotomy of lost and strong, of in control and reckless that it left me constantly off balance.

I wanted to give myself to him.

He moved to my other foot and removed that shoe, too, rubbing my instep with his fingers and sending waves of pleasure through my body. This time he took my leg and held it up, skimming his fingers down my skin, over my ankle, my calf, all the way up to the inside of my thigh.