She put on a sunny smile. Baby steps. She’d take baby steps and pray they eventually got her to her destination. “Nothing. I’m good. Well, I’m going to be okay, though I suspect my backside is going to be a little red.”
“I think a nice pink will suffice this time.” His jaw tightened. “Are you sure there isn’t something you’re not telling me?”
So much, but nothing she felt secure sharing. She wanted him so badly. She couldn’t think about letting him go. She knew he wouldn’t stay forever, but just a little while longer. “No. It’s good, Lee.”
He took her hand, but that tight look on his face hadn’t disappeared. Maybe it was just his Dom face.
She walked around taking everything in. Despite having the look of a savage garden, the place was neat and clean. Flowers bloomed on a vine surrounding a scene space. A woman had been tied to a St. Andrew’s Cross, her curvy backside on full display as an enormous man dressed in leathers wielded a whip. Avery stopped and stared, wincing a little as the whip cracked through the air.
“It sounds worse than it hurts,” Lee said, his arm surrounding her waist and pulling her close. He spoke directly in her ear, lending an immediate sense of intimacy. Despite the fact that they were surrounded by others, it felt as though they were alone, the scene in front of her being performed only for them. This was how he made her feel when he put his arms around her—protected, adored. “Watch the sub’s back. Look at the slump of her shoulders. They’ve been playing for a while now. She’s already found her subspace.”
The sub’s head was rolled forward as though she didn’t have the will or the inclination to keep it up, but there was nothing in her body language that read like pain or weakness. Pleasure. She practically shivered with it every time the whip struck her flesh.
“How can it not hurt?”
“Because Damon’s an experienced top. He’s worked with a whip for years I would bet. What you hear is the snap of the whip, but depending on where and how hard he lands it, that’s what decides the level of pain. Look at the thin lines on her back. They’re pink, not red and they aren’t welting up. Now that’s not to say you won’t see some submissives who want welts, who need a higher level of pain.”
It was so confusing to her. “I’m struggling with the idea of hurting someone you care about.”
“Some people jog and love to work out because they get addicted to the endorphins. Some people get the same endorphins from pushing their bodies.”
“But with exercise your body gets something it needs,” Avery argued.
“And for some of these people they’re getting what their souls need. I’m surprised you’re being so judgmental.” He pulled her away, taking her toward the back. A frown sat on his face.
She seemed to be very good at disappointing him tonight. “I’m just trying to understand. I know we’ve talked about this all week, but seeing it happen in front of me is different.”
He forcibly turned her back to the scene. “Look closely. Look past all your pretty notions of how we should treat each other in a perfect world and tell me what you see.”
She saw a man whipping a woman. That was what she saw, but she owed it to Lee to at least pretend to look. The scene was coming to an end. The Dom set aside his whip and strode over to the St. Andrew’s Cross, his hands working the ties that bound the sub. Her face turned up and instead of the relief Avery thought she would see, the sub gave her Dom a little smile and a wink and slumped into his arms as though all her strength was gone.
But that wasn’t a bad thing necessarily, she realized. Sometimes a person had to expend all their strength to get to a place where they could be taken care of. The sub nuzzled the Dom’s chest, her affection for him so plain it brought tears to Avery’s eyes.
She was being judgmental. Who was she to tell a woman how she should love? How she should get what she needs? Maybe there were as many ways for a woman to love as there were women walking the earth.
“What do you see, Avery?” Liam asked.
“I see a woman getting what she needs and a man who seems happy to give it to her.”
“Exactly,” Liam replied, relief plain in his voice. “If you don’t need this, tell me now because I am not going to be that fucking sadist who abuses you.”