Declan sneered down at Charlie. “That’s all you got?”

She struggled against him, and he had to use his hands to keep her restrained.

“Charlotte, you’ll hurt yourself if you’re not careful. It won’t buy you any sympathy from me. I’ll still punish you for running.”

Declan released his grip on her wrists but he still pinned her arms firmly between the sofa cushions and his legs. He ran his hands through his hair, smoothing back the strands that plastered his face.

“You’re a pain in the ass, you know that? Always plotting your escape. Never really giving us a chance.”

Charlie froze. Is he role-playing or is this for real?

“I’ll take the blame for some of it. I’ve been too soft on you. But that changes right now.”

***

“Charlotte. Charlotte?”

Charlie’s brain traveled to remote locations that involved in-depth analysis. Her mind worked overtime to process what Declan requested of her. But then again she had always been like that. Her mind operated at a different speed than most people, and when she was a young girl she had trouble sleeping. She learned techniques to quiet her mind, but when she faced a decision, her analytical side went into overdrive.

She agonized over personal decisions, sometimes for days. Charlie worked through all the possible consequences of her decisions. She could make split decisions in a work environment, but when it came to her personal life, it was nearly impossible for her to decipher the best choice. Tonight was no different.

“You need to make a choice. Which will it be?”

Charlie stared at the boxes labeled “A,” “B,” and “C.” Declan’s kinky version of “Let’s Make a Deal” it seemed. He gave her three options for play to choose from tonight. He told her one she would like, one she would hate, and one she would struggle with but find pleasure in. She had to pick.

“Whatever choice you find best, Master.” Charlie thought playing the submissive card would get her out of having to decide. It didn’t work.

“That’s not going to fly tonight, my dear.” Declan chuckled. “We can sit here all night, but you are going to choose.”

Reverse psychology failed. Second-guessing him was not an option. Declan knew human nature well. Hell, he understands me as well as, if not better than I do. Charlie knew she couldn’t avoid the choice.

And the cycle of indecision continued. Charlie wanted to make a choice but felt like she couldn’t. If I follow statistics, I would get the one he wants me to have. But he would know I know that, so he would expect me not to choose that one … Which is the one I would enjoy and which is the one I would detest? Which one does he want me to pick?

Charlie became a frustrated, fidgety mess while Declan on the other hand remained perfectly calm, almost amused.

“Okay. I pick C.”

“C? Really?” His eyes darkened. “Are you certain you want to choose C”?

That one small question set Charlie’s mind spinning once more. Is that the wrong one? Is that not the one he wants me to pick? Should I change my choice? Should I hold firm with my decision?

“Yes, please, Master. I choose C.” Charlie exhaled, her pulse racing, her heart beating like a steam engine.

“Very well then, Charlotte.” Declan raked his gaze over her. Taking the box, he placed it in front of her on the coffee table where they sat. “You’ve done well tonight. All I wanted you to do was to pick a box, to put yourself aside and do what I required. All I wanted was your absolute cooperation and complete obedience and you’ve given that to me.”

“What’s in the box, Master?”

Declan smiled. “My sweet girl, it doesn’t matter what is in the box. It matters that you allowed me to be in control. Your fears have been getting the best of you, the best of us. Your questioning of your choices is getting in the way of fully submitting to me. But not tonight..”

***

Declan stared down at the flawless, creamy skin of Charlotte’s naked backside. Not a mark in sight, it was the most perfect canvas.

She’s trembling.

He liked it when she was a bit scared. It gave him something to work with. He fully admitted her vulnerability got him charged. It was a tribute to how completely she trusted him. Granted, Charlotte couldn’t move because he bound her to the bed, but she allowed him to do so with full knowledge of what he intended to do.

She belongs with me.

Declan outstretched his hand and lightly caressed her skin to soothe her. The back of his tanned hand was at least three shades darker than her back. Declan wondered if his calluses felt like sandpaper against her skin. Did they remind her that he practiced regularly with a whip? Her trembling diminished considerably with his caresses.

I love to work Charlotte’s body to a frenzy and bring it back down again. Up. Down. If I wanted, I could tease her to the brink of climax and pull back again. But that would just distract me from what I really want to do.

Declan kept one hand resting on the small of her back and he reached into his bag to retrieve the flogger. He ran his fingers through the heavy tendrils of the custom elk flogger he cradled in his hand. Declan had given her little information about what to expect. He couldn’t tell her it would just be a sensual flogging, she might get aroused at just the mere thought. Where would the fun in that be? No, he kept his plans shrouded in mystery. He wanted Charlotte to imagine that he might cause her physical pain. He needed her to submit to that idea and accept that it was his hands delivering both pleasure and pain to her body.

He draped the flogger’s tendrils on Charlotte’s bare back, relishing the shivers he elicited from her skin with the feel of the cold leather. Her nervousness was already causing her skin to perspire, an early indication of a healthy endocrine system. Declan recalled the demonstration about endorphin reaction to pain from Owen. A professional tattooist, Owen demonstrated what happened when he tattooed a rather large piece between the shoulder blades of a twenty-something female. She was covered in sweat and goose bumps; the physical manifestation of the body’s endorphin reaction to the pain.

Declan dragged the fingers of the flogger along Charlotte’s skin, the full weight caressing her spine. It served to warm the tendrils as much as it focused her attention where he wanted it. He swiped it in a lazy pattern up one side of her spine and down the other. Then from one shoulder blade diagonally to the opposite hip, across her buttocks, and up the other diagonal. He weaved one design after another, changing direction, changing pattern, but always at a slow, controlled speed. Declan had all the time in the world. The longer he performed this ritual, the more confidence she would have in his control.

He turned his wrist slowly over her buttocks so the strands slid down her inner thighs, but only a few at a time. Glistening wetness along her slit caught his eye as he was about to move to the other side. Declan gripped the handle of the flogger tighter so she wouldn’t be able to feel his hand shaking. It took a lot of willpower to keep himself from stopping to take advantage of her slickness.

A sudden wave hit Declan’s nostrils; the scent of her unmistakable arousal penetrated his senses. He froze for a moment and held his breath. He tried not to imagine himself tearing open his pants and ripping her in two with his cock. It would be so easy to do.

Not yet. Wait. Breathe.

Declan closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. For a few seconds he concentrated solely on breathing. In. And out. Deep cleansing breaths. In. Out.

Better.

He regained a sense of calm. He was in total control. Declan methodically continued to weave a path across her back, buttocks, and thighs, lifting the flogger a little more with each pass until he held most of the weight of it, and the tips were the only part in contact with Charlotte’s body. Her skin bubbled up in gooseflesh, and Declan heard her make a noise for the first time since he began. She moaned. She’s ready.