Silence.

    Stillness.

    Redemption.

    A gentle hand on my head makes me shudder, my muscles tighten in anticipation of what is to come.

    “Shh.”

    Seconds pass. I open my eyes. Jack is front of me, reaching for the cuffs. His shirt is stained with sweat, hair mussed, jaw clenched. My pulse kicks up as he tugs on the Velcro. Is he going to tighten them? Raise me higher? Can it possibly get worse than this? A whimper escapes my lips, and pain flickers across Jack’s face. Pain. Not satisfaction. Not pleasure. Not release. If anything, he looks tenser than he did before we started.

    “We’re done, darlin’.”

    “Done?” My heart sinks to my stomach. “No. Not done. I can take more.”

    “You can’t.” He gently wipes my tears away. “Even that was too much. I thought it would be, but you were so determined to try. And then you weren’t honest with me.”

    He pulls on the cuff, growls in frustration when the Velcro doesn’t loosen. “Fuck.”

    Whirling around, he thuds his fist against the wall. “Fuck.”

    Overwhelmed by the realization that I am not enough for Jack, I bite back a sob.

    Jack turns back, his face stricken and strained. “Damn cuffs. Just give me a sec. I’ll get you down.”

    “It’s not…that.” My throat tightens, and words fail me.

    He gives the offending cuff a vicious yank, and it finally loosens. He unfastens the other cuff and lowers my arms slowly, rubbing my hands and wrists with his thumbs to restore my circulation. I can see the tension in the lines around his eyes, and I want desperately to give him the kind of release he craves. “Is there something else?” My voice drops to a pleading whisper. “Something I can do? I know you need…”

    “You.” He spins me around and bends me over the massage table. “All I need is you.” His palm slides down my back over my burning, sensitive skin. I whimper and try to squirm away.

    “Don’t even think about it.” His voice turns cold. Distant. “This pain you can take, and I like to look at your beautiful ass, all red from my flogger.” He slaps me hard, but in this position, vulnerable and yet in control, his hand on me at once firm and soothing, the pain slides into pleasure, and I moan.

    “That’s the sound I like to hear.” He smacks me again, his hand on my nape, holding me still.

    “Where else should I smack you?” He kicks my legs apart and shoves a rough hand between my thighs. “You think that needy clit of yours needs a little discipline?”

    “No.” I gasp, buck against him, try to wiggle away, but his heavy hand presses me down on the bed, and he delivers a stinging slap to my pussy.

    I groan into the bed as molten heat surges from my clit, spreading through my body, tightening every muscle in its wake. My hands clench the edge of the table, and I moan softly. Wet. Hot. Needy. Desperate to come.

    Jack curses and groans, a low, guttural, entirely sensual sound. I hear the rustle of clothes, the crinkle of a wrapper, the soft slide of latex, and then the head of his cock presses against my opening.

    “You’re gonna be real sensitive.” He slaps my bottom again, and he pushes his thick cock inside me with one hard thrust. “Scream for me.”

    This time, I can’t muffle all the sound. I am so sensitive inside, that each slide of his cock is an exquisitely painful pleasure.

    Jack is merciless, his cock huge and thick. He hammers into me, letting loose a stream of filthy words, about what he was thinking when I was in the gym, the things he wanted to do to me, how he’d never been so hard. Another orgasm builds deep inside me. My legs tremble. My hands fist the edge of the table. My heart pounds. I am caught in a maelstrom of sensation—pain, pleasure, need, and desire. I spiral up and up and out of control.

    “There she is.” Jack reaches around my hip and gives my clit a cruel pinch. My climax hits in a tidal wave of white heat that surges through my body, leaving ripples of pleasure in its wake.

    Jack pounds into me, his fingers tight around my hips. He comes with a low, guttural groan, holding me still as he pumps his release inside me.

    “Thank you,” he whispers, leaning over me, his fingers threaded through mine.

    “For what?”

    Jack presses a kiss to my nape. “For trying.”

    In other words, I failed.

21

    I am worth loving

    RAMPAGE

    Sylvia is standing at the back door to Club Sin when I arrive after giving Penny the aftercare she needed and tending to her injuries at home. She is wearing her blond hair up tonight, loose tendrils framing her delicately shaped face and gray-blue eyes.

    “What are you doing out here?” I pull out my security pass. “It isn’t safe.” Although the discreet alleyway entrance is well lit, some of our high-profile female members have had unpleasant encounters, and most usually call ahead for an escort before they arrive.

    “Master Greg was supposed to meet me around the corner and walk me in, but he just texted to say he’s been held up. I didn’t want to wait for someone else and didn’t see anyone around, so I decided to go in. I was just looking for my pass.” She gives me an assessing look. “Are you looking for a sub tonight, Master Jack? You look all wound up.”

    So tempting. Wound up doesn’t begin to describe the turmoil raging inside me. I trusted Penny to tell me when she reached her limit, and she let me go too far. Or did I lose control? Regret and remorse coil in my gut. Only a good, hard session at the club can relieve me, and it is not something I can do with Penny.

    “Master Jack? I’m here for you.”

    The need to inflict pain—real pain—hums beneath my skin. I just need one night in my playroom with a willing masochist. One night to relieve the tension so I can be fully in control. Sylvia is one of the few women who can give me what I need. I can let go with Sylvia. Be the man I hate to be.