Free Love Beat by Flora Dain Page A

where it’s going to land next. Soon I’m almost feverish, twitchy with arousal, aching for relief.
    I grow weepy. When a precise blow lands squarely over first one tight, quivering breast then the other, I cry out without thinking, “ Stop. ”
    Instantly the air around me stills. I hang limp in my chains for a moment, panting.
    “Tunis? What’s the matter? Too much?”
    I nod in my private darkness. “Enough, please. I can’t take any more right now. It’s so…” To my horror I feel tears well up underneath the mask then, all at once, I’m being unfastened. He gathers me up in his arms and carries me a little way then I’m lying down.
    He pulls away the blindfold and he’s sitting over me, his expression troubled. I blink up at him, my skin on fire. A tear trickles into my hair.
    “What’s wrong? Tell me.”
    “It’s just… It’s so intense.”
    I close my eyes briefly and feel him stretch out at my side. We’re lying on a wide, upholstered bed covered in satin. It feels silky and cool against my flaming skin.
    At the corners are ornately carved bedposts in dark, polished wood. In place of drapes, they’re festooned with chains and cables.
    This is not a bed for sleeping in. The thought jerks me awake.
    He’s watching me lazily, like he’s tracking my thoughts. “Feeling better?”
    What a strange question. As his gaze burns into me, the tingles on my skin are blending everywhere into a hot, golden glow. To my surprise, I feel terrific—but strangely unfulfilled.
    “I’m fine.” I manage a shaky smile.
    He frowns. “What? Tell me.”
    “I… It’s just… I want something more.” I stop, horrified at myself.
    What am I saying ? The walls are festooned with tools of torment. Goodness knows what he’ll use next. “I can’t explain it…” My eyes brim with tears. I feel like an idiot. “Cade, what’s happening to me?”
    He touches my cheek. “It’s okay. It’s normal. Some people get emotional their first time. People have been known to faint.”
    He pauses to let the meaning of his words sink in.
    I sit up slowly. “You mean…that girl on the stretcher passed out from emotion ?”
    His eyes flicker. “Sure. It happens. Some run for the hills. Some pass out.”
    His eyes crinkle with amusement. “We’ll finish here for now.”
    He takes off my cuffs, drapes the short robe around my shoulders and leads me back to the elevator. As it rises to the top floor, he looks me over critically.
    He touches my breasts, my hips and my thighs with light, soothing fingers and the absorbed air of a craftsman surveying his handiwork. “The marks should be gone by morning. Ah, we’re here.”
    He ushers me to the bathroom, gives me a few minutes then signals me to stand in the shower. He massages soothing shower gel all over my tingling body while I lean against him, sleep creeping up on me like honey.
    He tests the spray on his fingers then hoses me down, holding me with his gaze as I alternately shiver and sigh under the teasing jet of water.
    He makes me open my legs to allow the jet into my most private places, and holds me still when I wriggle. “Hey, easy.”
    He’s enjoying this too, still playing my arousal like an instrument. At last he swathes me in a large, fluffy towel and pats me dry. I lean against him, content and grateful.
    “Feel better now?”
    Surprisingly, I do. I ache all over but I feel tingly and somehow gloriously alive . “I feel terrific.”
    He grins. “That’ll be the endorphins kicking in. You get a real high after a good whipping—strange, but true.” His voice lowers. “And now we come to your second punishment. Do you remember what it’s for?”
    I stare at him. “What ? Now ?”
    “Certainly now. You earned two punishments tonight. You’ve had only one. Answer me.”
    I don’t play at this. His face grows still. His smile has vanished. “I’m waiting.”
    Fear uncurls deep in my belly and with it, heat. My nipples tense then grow numb.
    It’s all