Her breath stuttered as new tears formed, and he immediately knew he wouldn’t like the answer. But, somehow, he already knew. It was why he’d asked why and not where.
“You weren’t here,” she whispered.
“Ahh, pet, I’m sorry.” He kissed her cheek again. “I wanted to be.”
“Really?” she asked, her eyes hopeful, and the pain in his chest shredded him. She was too vulnerable, too beautiful to play with like this. Pushing her away wasn’t the right answer. He didn’t know what was, but he knew he’d royally fucked up. Again.
“Yes, really. We’re going to have a long discussion when this is through. I have much to apologize for,” he murmured. Her smile was timid, and because he couldn’t help himself, he kissed her again. “Are you ready to continue?” Her eyes grew, but he stroked her face to keep her from panicking. “I’m here now, pet. You have me to lean on.”
She bit her lip and nodded.
“What’s your safe word?”
“Red.”
“Good girl.” Mason glanced at Emory and gave him the go ahead to continue.
When the next lash came, he was right there with her, watching her, relishing her beauty, absorbing her pain. He held her face, refusing to break the eye contact he had with her, the view into her soul too precious to lose. He murmured words of encouragement, told her how wonderful she was. How perfect. Still he watched as tears streamed down her face, but no other reaction came from her. No more screaming. When her eyes glossed over, he knew she’d reached the sweetest nirvana reserved for subs, and she’d done so without one sexual touch from him. His chest expanded with pride for her because she’d let herself go and allowed it to happen…and for himself for being the reason she’d achieved it. Yes, Emory wielded the whip, but Mason mastered the girl.
One more strike, and he signaled his partner to halt. Any cheers and verbal encouragements the audience gave Shelby during her scene hushed to a quiet respect as they continued to regard her. He and Emory worked methodically to release her from the cross, and Mason wrapped her as if she was precious cargo before carting her toward the private room off the staged area. He needed his time with her, and her care wasn’t for public display.
She remained dazed as he held her on his lap, and he simply caressed her tear-stained cheeks. She was a vision, and he’d be lying to himself if he pretended he wasn’t turned on by her in this state. It was who he was. He loved a woman’s complete submission, but something about her in this moment made it so much more….more. He didn’t know what exactly. He was a sexual man, and he preferred the scenes he conducted to be physically gratifying in that respect. When a scene ended without that erotic connection, he didn’t feel completely fulfilled. He would be pleased if the sub achieved her goals because it was his duty as a Dom to see to those needs first, but he would come away lacking that completeness too.
Until now.
This was the first time since he’d enjoyed play that he hadn’t needed that physical release. The scene had been complete without it. She had been perfection. What did it say about him? What did any of his reactions to her say about him? He didn’t know. God, he didn’t fucking know. But they couldn’t avoid what was happening anymore.
Before this night was through, they’d have that talk he mentioned. Maybe by then he’d know what he was going to tell her.
Chapter Fourteen
A dull ache roused Shelby from her trance. The mellow feeling that had engulfed her was quickly turning into a burning on her backside. She shifted and blinked, the room she’d been staring at coming into focus for the first time. Where was she?
And why had a swarm of bees attacked her back? Jesus, it was on fire. She hissed and turned to look over her shoulder. Her gaze immediately locked with Mason’s concerned one.
Oh God, it all came rushing back to her. The whipping. The pain. She moved her hand to feel her back. Was she bleeding? It felt as if she’d been ripped to shreds.
“Don’t, baby,” he whispered, and she immediately stilled.
“It hurts.”
“I need to put some ointment on it, but I didn’t want to disturb you. C’mon. Let me get you upstairs.” He rose and cradled her in his arms. “After I finish tending to you, we’ll go to bed, and I’ll hold you all night.”
“Viola,” she gasped. Where was her friend? Where was Dave? Had they watched and wondered where she was now, or was her partner too busying snooping around? She couldn’t concentrate on that right now, but she also couldn’t leave without talking to Viola. “Where is she?”
“Who?” he asked, frowning at her. He put his hand on her forehead and rubbed. “You might still be out of it, baby. It’s just us.”
“No. I mean…” She shook her head to get the cobwebs out of it. She couldn’t do anything about her dry mouth. “My friend Viola and her husband came with me tonight. She was worried about the public scene and wanted to be here for support. I can’t leave without talking to her. She’ll be worried.”
He nodded slowly. “Okay, pet.” He put her down, and she very gently settled onto the couch. “I’ll find out who’s working the front door and have him point them out to me. You stay here and rest. I’ll bring them to you.”
She swallowed, trying to get saliva to form in her mouth. He seemed to notice her need, bent over to retrieve a water bottle, and handed it to her. “Thanks,” she whispered as she opened it. “Master Emory met them before the scene. You can ask him.” That was all she could say before she guzzled a third of the bottle.
He stroked her hair until she pulled the bottle away from her lips. Without a word,
