“How many?” he asked the crowd, but he didn’t wait as he rattled off numbers. When he went up by fives, I felt sweat form between my breast. “I’m not so cruel. Five should be enough.”
The crowd didn’t like that.
“Seven then,” he declared.
They quieted down, and I assumed he’d stepped back. Though I couldn’t see him, I remembered what he’d looked like that other night—from his positioning to his stone expression. I closed my eyes and brought back the image in my head.
The music stopped. I heard the whip slice the air and tensed in anticipation. The sound, however, was more worrisome that the actual sting of pain. It hurt, but not as much as I’d expected. He was there with a hand, rubbing the spot, soothing the area. His touch turned me on.
By the third lash, a tear leaked from my eye. He saw it and was there.
“Do you want me to stop?” he said, low enough not to be overheard.
I shook my head. Yes, there was pain, but it was more. I felt freed somehow, from all the emotions I’d bottled up for months. On the fourth lash, my tears were flowing. I was also crying for him, knowing what was coming.
As he rubbed my ass, he leaned over. “We don’t have to do this.”
I nodded, unable to speak because I was choked up. Again, not from the pain—it wasn’t that bad. Breaking my arm as a kid had hurt far worse. The fact that I could save him from the humiliation coming and hadn’t was hurting me more.
He didn’t look happy, which played into the crowd’s enjoyment. On the next lash, I let out a gasp. I was lost in pleasure and pain and coming to terms with everything.
“I’m stopping,” he said.
“I love and trust you to finish.”
His eyes widened.
I’d felt compelled to tell him. I wanted him to know my feelings before the worst happened and the place was filled with law enforcement. “You don’t have to say it back. But I needed you to know.”
Though he finished, the last two he pulled back somehow. The crowd didn’t know, but I did. Either that or I’d crossed over into something else. The master he was, after rubbing my ass, he tapped between my legs and I came, surprising myself. I’d been lost in emotions and hadn’t known how close I was.
Then he released me and cradled me in his arms. I closed my eyes but knew when we were in the hallway that led to the back. It was quieter there.
“We need to go,” I whispered.
“What?”
“We need to leave,” I said, opening my eyes.
But he didn’t stop. We entered an office and he closed the door behind me.
“We need to go now,” I said, louder this time.
“Did I hurt you too much?”
“Damnit, Connor.” I shocked myself by calling him that. It took a second to regroup. “Matt said the FBI is going to raid your club tonight.”
“What?”
“I wasn’t supposed to tell you.”
His face turned angry, but he said, “Why are you here? You shouldn’t be here.”
“You asked me to come. I wasn’t going to break my word. Even though Matt could get fired. I’m not going to watch you go down for something you didn’t do.”
He took my hand. “What did he say?”
“He said you’re involved with a human trafficking ring. They know about the auction. But we need to leave. We can talk about this somewhere else.”
He opened a cabinet and handed me his worn leather jacket.
“What’s this for?” I asked, but he was already on the phone, saying things quickly.
Then he was at his desk—I assumed, given his jacket had been in the closet. There were some beeps and he pulled out a gun.
“What’s that for?”
He put a finger to his lips and said into the phone, “Bring her stuff here and prepare for Exodus.”
I took a leap and assumed that was an internal code word used in his club.
“Boss?” I assumed it was Eliza calling through the door. The voice matched the woman from earlier.
“Not now,” Connor barked.
I didn’t know when the switch happened, but he was Connor now, not Striker.
She banged on the door again.
I opened it. “If you don’t leave my husband alone, I’m going to cut a bitch.”
Call me crazy, but her eyes appeared to dilate. I didn’t have time to analyze that and shut the door in her face. A smile spread across my face when I noticed Connor’s amused expression.
“Cut a bitch?” he said.
I shrugged.
“Not really a threat to a… her. But points for effort.” He winked.
I wasn’t exactly sure what he’d been about to say, but I loved him more for editing himself. He’d been about to out whatever fetish she had. I could guess, but he’d stopped.
There was another knock. This time he moved quickly and opened the door, blocking my view. It wasn’t Eliza—I heard a man’s voice. When Connor closed the door, he handed me my things from the locker including the dress.