Free The Pulse by Shoshanna Evers

mouth.
    “I can do this all night,” Lanche said calmly. “It’s no skin off my back. It is, unfortunately, going to mean skin off yours. Do you understand?” He caned her again and she squealed in surprise at the stinging blow.
    “Yes, sir,” she gasped.
    Suddenly his hand slipped between her legs again, running his fingers across her pussy. “Then why,” he asked with amusement in his voice, “are you so turned on?”
    She hung her head in shame, unable to speak.
    “Do you want to come, Jenna?” he asked quietly.
    Turning her head over her shoulder, Jenna looked at him in shock. She nodded mutely.
    Yes, yes she wanted to come.
    Lanche picked up the rhythm of his fingers, sliding them back and forth over her clit, creating a riot of sensation through her body. She bucked her hips, trying to get more contact with his fingers.
    It felt so good, even though her ass still stung from the caning. Or maybe , she admitted to herself, because of it.
    She felt herself reach the edge of orgasm, but just as she was about to ride the crest of the climax over the top, Lanche stopped.
    She wailed in frustration.
    “Where might Emily be, Jenna?”
    A sob escaped her throat. “I can’t tell you.”
    He flicked her clit, just enough to keep her right on the edge, not enough to push her over. She groaned.
    “I want to help her,” he said. “She’s in danger unless we find her and bring her back to the safety of the camp.”
    He rubbed her clit ever so lightly, making her squirm against his fingers, desperate for more. Her breath grew ragged.
    “I won’t hurt Emily, Jenna. Tell me where she is.”
    Jenna could barely think straight, her mind addled by physical stimulation. Maybe ,she thought desperately, maybe I’m the crazy one.
    Maybe Emily is in danger and she needs help, and I’m not helping them find her.
    A lifetime of trusting authority settled over her like a warm blanket, and Jenna drew in a deep breath.
    “I’m not sure,” she whispered. “She used to work at Roosevelt, so she might go there, or maybe her apartment. I don’t know.”
    “Good girl,” Lanche said softly, and he ground his palm against her clit with enough force that she came immediately, gasping for air as the orgasm racked through her body, her pussy clenching.
    He walked away, leaving her naked in the middle of the room.
    Oh God—what had she done?
    Did she do the right thing… or had she just signed Emily’s death warrant?

Mason watched as Emily slowly packed her few belongings in her backpack.
    “Can I help?” he asked, even though the last thing he wanted was for her to have a reason to leave even sooner.
    She hugged the backpack against her chest and shook her head. “No. Thank you.”
    Damn it. He never should have told her he was a convicted murderer.
    She looked at him fearfully now, and he couldn’t blame her. This was all his fault. Now there was no way she would stay with him. But for her to leave, unprotected, wasn’t right. He couldn’t let her go.
    “You should pack bleach,” Mason said. “To treat water.”
    Emily nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”
    “Damn it, Emily,” he said, unable to keep the frustration from his voice. “Don’t look at me like that.”
    She looked away. “I’m sorry.”
    “No, don’t be sorry,” he sighed. “I just hate you looking at me like I’m a threat to you. I’m not. I’d never hurt you.”
    “Did you say that to her, too?” she asked, her eyes blazing with anger and fear.
    “Her?” Confused, Mason searched her face. What is she talking about?
    “Your victim,” she spat out.
    Mason shook his head. “My victim, as you put it, was not a her. It was a him. And no, I never promised him I wouldn’t hurt him. In fact, if I remember correctly, I told him the second I saw him that he was dead meat.”
    Emily gasped.
    Fuck. He may as well tell her the whole story now. Even if it meant bringing up painful memories. “Do you want to know what happened?”
    She nodded mutely, still