Penny looked out over the dungeon and was deeply thankful that she seemed to have found her sea legs. The entire ballroom had been transformed into a massive play area. There were St. Andrew’s Crosses along the walls, areas with spanking benches, and a couple of spots for master riggers to help with suspension play. Several subs had been intricately tied up in Shibari designs and placed on display in the bar area.

A couple of big dungeon monitors stood by the lifts and stairs. The rules were very plain. No intoxicated play. Jake Dean stood by the lifts. Apparently he’d been pressed into security duty. He looked big and slightly mean despite the fact that he was wearing a sunny yellow polo shirt and khaki pants. He’d already tossed two men out, his eyes lit with a certain glee. The rules of the dungeon and play spaces below had been explained in the meet and greet. Two drinks allowed in the bars inside the dungeon. Anyone attempting to get around it would be escorted to the non-play area of the ship.

“Are you all right, darling?” Damon eased up behind her, his hands finding her hips and sliding around her waist. He put his head close to hers, his mouth against her ear. “If you’re sick, this is over.”

She had to fight the urge to groan and roll her eyes. Her Dom was the touchiest thing. Over the last forty-eight hours, he’d found roughly four hundred reasons to end the op. First, he’d worried about her mental state after the fire. He’d held her the whole night, but in the morning claimed she wasn’t rested enough and they would have to cancel. She’d simply hauled her bags down to the car and then gotten her bum spanked for carrying her own luggage.

Then he’d claimed they’d lost her papers. She’d easily found them in his laptop bag.

As the boat had rolled out of Dover, past the glorious white cliffs and pebbled beaches, she’d discovered that being on a massive floating ship didn’t particularly agree with her stomach. At the first sign of nausea, she could have sworn she’d seen Damon jump up and down with joy.

Luckily Charlotte had gotten her some Dramamine, and she’d been perfectly fit for the meet and greet.

“I’m fine, Master.” She put her hands over his. He really was a foolish man. But he seemed to be right about a few things. They didn’t work together well since Damon seemed to find it impossible to think about anything except ways to get her off the boat. “What did you find out about the couple below us?”

Though they’d checked the room for bugs twice already, Damon preferred to whisper in crowded rooms, somehow thinking Baz was everywhere at once. They’d spent the day checking out the ten names Chelsea and Adam had targeted as their best bets to meet Walter Bennett. Six had connections to known Collective companies—although Damon insisted there were likely many more they didn’t know about. One was a reporter who had written a lengthy magazine article about Nature’s Core. Two had recently been in places that hosted Nature’s Core rallies.

And one Chelsea had just said was obviously something called a skank-ho and was likely a criminal who should be shoved off the boat. Chelsea had offered to do it herself. Penny discounted contestant number ten because she’d seen her put her hand on Simon’s ass as he instructed her on how to do the rumba. Chelsea had a bit of a vindictive streak.

She’d read everything she could on Bennett, had tried to memorize his face, but he could have undergone plastic surgery. She looked over the crowd, wondering which of these men were waiting to take Bennett’s place.

Damon’s hand traced her curves and ran back up to her breasts that seemed barely encased in a too-tight corset. His words whispered against her ear. “I discovered that Tiffani Hall enjoys large anal plugs and apparently likes very much to play the pony to her Master’s rider. There was absolutely nothing there past sex toys and an inordinate amount of cherry flavored lube. I stole a tube. She won’t miss it. Do you like cherry? God knows I do. You still have one, you know. I’m going to take that cherry. You’re almost ready for me.”

His hand ran down to her backside, cupping her cheek and reminding her that he’d been prepping her for that bit of play. Anal sex. He seemed a bit obsessed with it.

“That sounds like fun, Master. Can you be serious for a minute?”

“I am serious. I’m seriously thinking about fucking your tight arse. I’m trying not to be serious about the rest of it because it’s likely to end in violent death. Both of ours, most probably. So I would like to spend my last days with my cock in your arse.”

He was making her insane. He’d taken the tactic of shutting her out of the professional part of their relationship. She’d returned from a class he’d sent her to only to discover the entire crew had gotten together to discuss logistics without her. When she’d confronted him about it, he’d just kissed her and tossed her on the bed and explained that it had been “organic,” and then she hadn’t been able to think about anything but the way he was devouring her pussy.

“Damon, please, you can’t shut me out of this.”

“I’m not shutting you out.” He licked the shell of her ear. “This is your job, love. You’re here to give me cover. That’s all. We could break up, you know. You could stomp off and throw that collar you’re wearing in my face and everyone would believe it. The way you frown at me all the time has given me a bad reputation. Charlotte heard someone talking about the sweet-faced sub and her mean Master. I’m the mean Master.”

“I’m not taking off my collar, Damon.”

“Then you have to put up with this.” He gripped her hips, rubbing his erection against her bum.

Yes, she’d rapidly learned that being Master Damon’s submissive meant taking Master Damon’s cock at least three times a day. The man was utterly insatiable, and he didn’t seem to care that they might not be alone when he got it in his head to have her. On the long drive from London to Dover, he’d hiked up her skirt and screwed her in the backseat while the Taggarts argued about whether or not they should bring someone named Phoebe back a Harry Potter souvenir.

“Who are our targets?” There was no point in arguing with him. At least he’d shoved aside the arctic treatment she’d gotten before. She preferred perpetually horny, pessimistic Damon to the cold, distant Dom.

“I told you. I’m targeting that pretty hole of yours.”

“Damon, please.”

He smacked her left cheek hard, his brows furrowing. “What did you say?”

There were certain things he insisted on. He would let her get away with a lot, but he had his own protocol. “Master.”

“Better.” He sighed and drew her back into his arms. “You’re turning into a workaholic.”

“How can I since you never let me work?”

“Fine.” He swept her hair aside and went back to nibbling on her ear. “Do you see the girl in the black corset?”

“Seriously?” That described almost everyone.

“The one with dark hair and the blue stiletto boots that she can’t bloody well walk in.”

Ah, yes. She’d noted the woman as well. She seemed a bit out of place. “The reporter, right?”

“Yes.” He let his hands delve into her corset, pulling on her breasts so he could play with her nipples. “The Dom is her boyfriend. He hasn’t got a clue. If that bastard’s ever wielded a flogger, I’ll eat my own shorts.”

“You don’t wear shorts.”

He chuckled a little. “That’s because I want to be able to fuck you at any given moment, love.” He sighed. “Fine. You seemed determined to take something fun and make it into a drudgery.”

How had he ever gotten his double 0 status? “We do have a job to do. What’s the Dom’s name again?”

“Robert Tilman. Chelsea can’t find a connection with anyone in The Collective or Nature’s Core for him. As far as we can tell, they’ve been living together for over a year. They fight a lot if their e-mail and text conversations are any indication. They’ve only just joined a club in London. The Cave. It’s a touristy piece of shite. I wouldn’t even call it a starter club.”

She stared at Robert for a moment and had to admit, Damon was right. He looked uncomfortable. Most of the couples around them seemed deeply at ease with their roles, while Robert and his sub kept switching positions and trying to find where they should be. The reporter, whose name was Candice Jones, kept tugging at her knickers, which were oddly conservative given that many of the subs were naked.

As she stood and watched with Damon, Candice reached up and tugged on her Dom’s hand, pulling him down and frowning his way.

If she did that to Damon in a dungeon, he would put her over his knee before she could take another breath, but Robert just shook his head at whatever she was saying. She’d seen the expression on Robert’s face a million times. It was the same slightly constipated look that her sister’s husband had when he was trying to please her and couldn’t figure out how.

It was not an expression she would expect to see on a Dom.

“They’re pretending.”

“Very good, love.” His fingers twisted her nipples to that sweet spot just before pain, the exact amount of pressure it took to get her pussy nice and wet, and her blood flowing through her veins with a pulsing rhythm. She was rapidly becoming addicted to Damon’s brand of dominance. It was a sweet combination of discipline and indulgence.

What would she do if he followed through with his threats to give her up at the end of their operation? She’d become suspicious that his constant desire had something to do with having her as many times as he could before he let her go.

Or died. Her Master wasn’t a “glass is half full” sort of man.

“Why are they here if they aren’t a real D/s couple?” She felt like she could safely ask the question since she’d been in an actual D/s relationship for a week. It hadn’t been long, but it had been immersive. She really was Damon Knight’s submissive. She’d surrendered utterly to him.

“That’s a very good question. I think we should find out. Unless you would rather play. There’s an empty spanking bench.”

She knew exactly what he would do. He would spank her senseless, fuck her until she couldn’t breathe, and carry her upstairs and tuck her in. Then he would put a guard on her door and come right back here and do the damn job himself. “Tempting, but I think we should figure out if they’re our targets. We dock in Helsinki tomorrow. The switch could happen at any port.”

He growled against her skin, giving her a good nip that let her know how frustrated he was. “All right then. I’m going to go talk to Tag. You stay here. Simon is at the stairs, Jake is at the lifts, and I’ll be right over there.” He kissed her cheek and stepped away, moving toward where the Taggarts stood watching a whipping scene play out.

She hugged the wall, though she didn’t really have to. No one bothered her. Her collar protected her from unwanted attention. She reached up and touched the silver chain Damon had placed around her neck. He’d clasped it around her, not allowing her to touch it until he was satisfied with the way it laid. There was a small heart with a diamond in the center that touched the hollow of her neck. She wanted to keep that damn chain around her neck forever, but might only have these few days with him before he went back to being the cold, shut-down agent he’d been before.

Although she held his fate in her hands, and he didn’t even know it. She could save him from himself by telling Nigel he wasn’t fit for duty. Not physically or mentally. He was too emotional. That would be a bitter irony for him. The one time he got emotional, the object of his feelings betrayed him.

She couldn’t do it. No matter what it cost her, she couldn’t hurt him like that. He’d never recover.

She stared at the couple in front of her, keeping them in her sights, forcing herself to focus on the problem at hand. Candice was a pretty woman, probably in her mid-twenties. Robert looked to be roughly the same age.

They were watching a scene with a Domme and her male submissive. The Domme had her sub tied to a St. Andrew’s Cross, his naked body on display. She was whipping him with a singletail and now she tugged at his balls, squeezing them until he squawked before she went back to flicking the whip in her hands.

Candice’s eyes widened and then she turned away. Her boyfriend went green. Penny had to stifle a laugh. A few weeks before perhaps she would be the one turning green, but she stood there feeling not an ounce of concern for the sub. Yes, he cried out, but she could read him. He actually relaxed as his Domme handled him. He liked the pain. She understood him. The Domme tenderly kissed him between snaps of the whip, likely telling him how good he was, how proud she was of him. Despite his occasional grimaces, the sub practically glowed with pride.

It was so blatantly obvious that neither of her two targets understood. Robert stepped back away from the crowd. He had to put a hand on her shoulder to get her attention. She was shaking her head, her hand over her mouth.

The two stepped back to the wall, and Robert set down the leather bag he was carrying. Like most of the other Doms in the dungeon, he carried his own kit. Unlike other Doms, he hadn’t checked it at the entrance until he needed it. He’d spent the whole night clutching it. He let it drop as he found a place against the wall. He slumped into the seat, but his sub frowned at him and he immediately surrendered the seat to her.

It was time to listen in.

She glanced over and Damon was deep in conversation with Ian Taggart. Charlotte stepped away from them at her husband’s nod and began walking toward Penny. So she had a babysitter.

Although it was a bit like asking the fox to watch the hen house.

The minute Charlotte joined her, she glanced over at the targets. “What’s up with that?”

“I think they’re tourists.”

Charlotte grinned. “I love hearing you spout lingo.”

Penny sighed. “I’m not a tourist anymore. I passed tourist when Damon used that slappy thing on me.”

Charlotte laughed. “I’m so sorry about that. Ian made the thing. I like to call it the Fucking Bastard, but not around him because then he uses it on me. It’s a repurposed fire hose. He’s obsessed with pervertables. I don’t let him go to home improvement stores anymore. I sent him for a new light switch, and he came back with fifteen things to torture me with. So, the tourists aren’t liking the dungeon much, huh? I’ve been watching them all day. They’re really out of place. And what the hell is in that kit that he won’t let it out of his sight? He had it with him at dinner. And the pool.”

She and Charlotte looked at each other, understanding obviously dawning. “We need to get into that kit.”

“Okay.” Charlotte’s eyes trailed over to the men, but they’d stepped away, conferring in a quiet section of the bar. “I really should go and talk to them.”

Yes, it was what they should do, but unfortunately, their targets were about to be on the move. Candice stood up, a distressed look on her face as she pulled at her corset. She had another couple of words with her boyfriend and stalked off toward the bathroom. “If we wait too long, we’re going to lose them. It would be easier to get the kit here. Everyone’s watching scenes, not each other. And I don’t know that those two will be back in the dungeon for the rest of the trip.”

“Damn it. We’re both going to be spanked, you know. Okay, we’re going to have to run a distract and dash, and I think it has to be you. The distraction that is,” Charlotte explained. “I think I scare him. I know Ian does. We tried to talk to them earlier by the pool and that dude practically ran away.”

Penny’s stomach dropped. She wasn’t good at flirting. “You want me to talk to him?”

Charlotte nodded. “Yep. Just bat your eyes and ask him a couple of questions. Like you don’t know anything. I’ll get that kit and then go straight to our rooms. When I’m free and clear, you get the boys and meet me. Maybe it’s nothing and then I’ll find a way to get it back to him, but I’m suspicious.”

Penny was, too. She glanced back to where Damon was talking to Ian. Neither man was looking her way. If she stepped away to talk to him, she and Charlotte would likely lose the chance.

And no matter what he said, this was her operation, too. “All right. Go and get in place. We might not have much time before she comes back.”

Charlotte winked her way. “Not a problem. Just give him a sweet face. He’s been flirting with anything with breasts all day when his girlfriend isn’t looking.”

Charlotte strode away, having not a bit of trouble with her five-inch heels. She was a bombshell of a woman, but Penelope had learned that bombshells didn’t work for every man. Sometimes a round pixie with a nice big bum was called for, and that was when she went to work.

She sent another slightly nervous glance her Dom’s way before she slipped her collar off. She needed to seem available. Hopefully Charlotte would work quickly and she could get it back on before Damon even noticed she’d stepped away. He might forgive her for working without him, but she doubted he would forgive taking off her collar.

Shoving the silver necklace into her bodice, she drew a deep breath before walking toward the target. Oddly, it wasn’t as hard as she would have thought. She’d never seen herself as a femme fatale until Damon had shown her she could be sexy.

He stood in the back of the room, his kit in his hand. Every now and then he glanced toward the bathroom before watching the scene in front of him. He’d moved from the Domme and her sub to a Dom who was plugging his petite sub with what looked like an elephant penis.

Just as she was going to move past him, she forced a slight stumble, moving her body toward him. Sure enough, he dropped the kit and caught her.

“I’m so sorry.” She kept her voice down, not wanting to draw attention away from the scene. From the corner of her eyes, she saw Simon moving toward her, but he stopped, likely noticing Charlotte in the vicinity.

“It’s all right.” Robert gave her an open smile and helped her back to her feet, his eyes going straight for her breasts. “I don’t know how you ladies walk in those heels without killing yourselves anyway.”

She flushed a little, showing him her bare feet. “I’m just clumsy.”

“Oh, don’t talk bad about yourself now, love. I’ve heard that can get you in trouble in a place like this. What’s a pretty girl like you doing in a dungeon?”

She bit back a groan. “Oh, I’m just here with some friends.” Charlotte was being cautious, waiting back while one of the dungeon monitors walked by. Damn it. Naturally they showed up when she needed a clear path. She glanced back and Simon moved away from his post.

“Jerry?” Simon called out.

The DM turned and walked back by, rushing to get to Simon, who started pulling him out of the way as he spoke.

One problem down.

“Those blokes are kind of scary.” Robert gestured to where Simon had the DM by the stairs, likely explaining some imaginary story. She’d always wondered about Simon out in the field. He seemed so urbane, but he had incredible instincts.

“They are. It makes me wish I’d come with my boyfriend.” She needed him to think she was free to flirt. He seemed touchy.

“I thought you had to have a partner to get on the boat.”

“That’s only for men. Women can come in singles.” It was sort of true. From what she’d learned, there were some unattached Doms, but they were teaching classes and running the dungeons. It was time to really get his attention away from the kit at his feet. Charlotte was moving in. “You know, in case a couple wants to be adventurous.”

Robert’s eyes widened. “Adventurous? Bloody hell. Are you talking about a threesome?”

Unfortunately, he practically yelled the question. Several heads turned.

“Sorry.” He went back to whispering.

But Charlotte had been forced to back off. Bugger. She quelled her frustration, forcing what she hoped was a seductive smile on her face. “Yes. Sometimes we singletons get lucky and find a couple to play with. I saw your sub. She’s very pretty.”

His mouth curled up in the first real smile she’d seen out of him. “That’s brilliant. Actually, Candy and me like to play like that. It’s probably why we thought we’d like this kind of thing. She read that Grey book one too many times, if you ask me. I don’t think they crushed some bloke’s balls in that book though.”

Charlotte very carefully reached down and had the kit in her hands as she moved back toward where Simon was still talking to the DM. He held the door open for her as she slipped away.

Brilliant. Now to get back to Damon and then up to their cabins. She smiled a little. “I haven’t read it, but it sounds interesting. Well, maybe I’ll see you around.”

He reached out and caught her. “Hey, don’t go. Let’s go up to my room. We can have a good time.”

“Or you can take your hands off my property this bloody minute before I fucking cut them off,” an arctic voice said from behind her.

She closed her eyes. How to handle this? Damon wasn’t exactly being professional, but she couldn’t explain why she’d disobeyed him here in the open.

“Hey, mate. She’s single. She told me herself.” But Robert seemed to have some sense of self-preservation since he’d taken his hands off her.

“Do you not have a bloody brain in your thick head? Can you not see the collar around her throat? In this world, that means she’s taken and I can slit your throat for touching her.”

Penny flinched and kind of prayed she wouldn’t have to turn around because he was going to be angry with her whether or not he was happy with the outcome of her endeavor.

Robert backed up. “She’s not wearing a collar.”

She felt Damon’s hand grip her elbow as he whirled her around. He had to know she was working. She was sure he would be upset, but she hadn’t counted on the utter rage she saw stamped on his face.

“Hey, Damon. Do you need me to get a bench ready?” Ian Taggart stood behind him, his face in a forbidding frown.

“I’ll take the sawhorse. And get my kit. I have to deal with my sub. I fear if I take a hand off her, she’ll disappear again. Where the fuck is the collar I put around your neck?”

For the first time, she was actually a bit afraid of him. And oddly aroused. He’d done his job far too well. He’d trained her to respond to him, and even when he looked like he might truly take a pound out of her flesh, she was already warm and wet. “It’s in my corset.”

The time for prevarication was over. Especially when she realized everyone was looking their way. Everyone in the dungeon. All of the scenes had stopped.

The dungeon monitor, who had been talking to Simon, elbowed his way through the crowd. “Is there a problem?”

“My submissive decided to see if she could find a more pleasant Dom,” Damon said, his jaw tight.

Penny shook her head. “No, I didn’t.”

Robert held his hands up. “She offered a three way with me and me girlfriend. She didn’t say anything about being attached.”

The DM glared at her. “Are you trying to get away from him?”

“No.”

“Do you have a safe word?”

“Of course she does,” Damon bit back.

The DM looked disgusted with all three of them. “Then I suggest you make her say it because you just ruined everyone else’s scene with this one. I should ask you to leave the dungeon and not come back.”

Horror settled in her gut. She couldn’t get them kicked out of the dungeon. They needed to be here. “I’ll do whatever I need to. Please don’t kick us out.”

“Are you so ill-trained that you speak to him and not me?” Even in the low light, she could see how red Damon had turned.

It was time to play her part to the hilt. She fell to her knees, head down, and knees wide apart. Tears were starting to fall because she’d screwed up so horribly. He couldn’t think she was really trying to pick up that man. But then she thought about it and perhaps in the moment, he could. He didn’t trust anyone. Not really. There was always a part of Damon that would be waiting for her to betray him, like everyone else had. He’d learned the lesson young, taking it into his soul like an education on how the world worked.

How could she prove she loved him when he didn’t believe in love at all?

“Don’t think that will save you.” He turned to the DM. “I would rather she didn’t spend the rest of this ridiculously expensive holiday in our cabin. Allow me to make up for the scene. I think this crowd would love to see her cry a bit.”

There was a general consensus that her ass should be something the Americans called grass.

It didn’t sound pleasant, but she’d nearly wrecked their cover and she had to make it right.

The DM stood over her. “Eyes up, sub.” She looked up and there was some small amount of sympathy in his eyes. “Tell me your safe word.”

“Penguin.” She couldn’t stop the tears from falling.

“Use it if you have to.” The DM nodded Damon’s way. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Get up,” Damon growled.

She turned her face up to him. “Damon…”

He hauled her up and immediately laid five hard smacks on her arse, lighting her up with pain. “You don’t seem to learn.”

“Master.” She could barely talk because he’d meant business with those smacks. Her hands were shaking and she gave serious thought to spitting out her safe word and ending everything here and now. He was barely leashed.

But that would get them kicked out. She had to trust him. She had to trust that he knew what he was doing.

“Hey. Where’s my bag? Oh, fuck me.” Robert started to panic, looking about for the kit Charlotte was likely rifling through at this point.

Damon started to haul her toward a raised platform.

“Please, can we talk?”

“Not a word from you. I suppose this proves you meant what you said to me. You’re going to happily hop away and find some other bloody man to take my place.”

“Damon, that’s not fair.”

He stopped and forced her to turn. “When are you going to learn that nothing in this life is fair? Nothing at all. You dance through life treating it like it is a tea party.”

She tried to pull away from him. “How can you say that? I know very well life isn’t fair. I spent years learning that.”

She’d watched her mum try to please her absent father and then when she’d finally started to find a life without him, her disease had taken over, making her final years a living hell.

“Yes, and you’re going to learn again, aren’t you? Maybe this time the lesson will stick.” He hauled her along until she stumbled a bit. He turned and cursed. For a moment she thought he would just drag her across the floor, but he leaned over and lifted her up, cradling her to his chest though his face was a cold mask.

He strode to the sawhorse, a long apparatus she’d seen used at The Garden. Taggart had kindly adjusted it, apparently knowing exactly how high to place it.

Damon set her on her feet, her heart pounding in her chest. He pulled a knife out of his boot and neatly sliced her corset off. He really was hell on her wardrobe. “Give it to me.”

She was holding it to her chest because everyone was looking at her. The entire dungeon seemed to have moved to this one place, silently staring up at her in utter disapproval.

Shame washed over her.

“I said give it to me.” Damon tapped his foot impatiently.

She couldn’t have it out with him here. Couldn’t. They had a job to do and it seemed she was the only one thinking straight. Tears pierced through her as she passed him the ruined corset. Her collar fell to the floor with an audible thud.

She’d been naked at The Garden, but it hadn’t felt like this. She started to reach for her collar, but Damon was faster.

“I’ll decide if you get this back.” Damon tossed the corset aside, moving close to sink his hand into her hair. With a bite of pain, he tugged her head back so she had to look in his eyes. “Even when I’m brutally angry with you, I want you. Don’t stand there and think you’re anything less than gorgeous. Fuck, Penelope. I’m blindingly mad and I still can’t leave you like this. I can’t let you think you’re less than perfect.”

And just like that she was comfortable again. “Please, can we talk?”

He shook his head. “Not until we’re done. And then everything is going to be different. Ian? Tie her up for me. I need a moment to calm down.”

He stepped away, leaving her with Taggart, who softened slightly the minute his back was turned from the crowd. “Where did my wife go and what did she steal? I’m not crazy in love with you the way Damon is so I can figure out that you two decided to do some work without us. She’s getting her ass spanked, too. If you don’t want him to ruin the thong, you should probably hand it over.”

Somehow after what Damon had said, it was fairly easy to step out of her last bit of clothing. It hadn’t really covered her anyway. “He’s not in love with me. And Charlotte took the target’s kit.”

Ian grinned slightly, though it merely made him look like a happy predator. “The one he’s had with him all day, even at the pool?”

Penny nodded. “Yes. The reporter went to the loo so we thought it might be our only time.”

“I need you to hug the sawhorse. Find a comfy spot.” Taggart held up a nice length of rope. “He has to go through with this, you know. He lost it and now he has to play the badass Dom. He has no idea how to handle himself. Give him some slack, okay?”

She nodded because it was obvious Damon was in over his head. She settled herself over the sawhorse. The long apparatus was padded, the plastic cover touching her breasts.

Taggart knelt down, looping the rope around her wrists with a practiced hand. The knot was tight, but not so much it would cut off her circulation. “He might say some things he doesn’t mean because that man is terrified of what could happen to you. He’s used to losing people, and he can’t stand the thought of losing you. And I swear I’m going to beat the next dude who forces me to play Cupid. I’m not good at it.”

But he was good with a rope. And apparently a spreader. He grabbed a spreader bar and she found her legs spread wide, her ass in the air.

Oh, god, this was going to hurt.

Taggart swiftly locked her ankles into the spreader bar. She was caught and there was no way out except to say her safe word and possibly get both herself and Damon locked out of the place they needed to be. She had to endure whatever Damon was about to give her.

She had to hope it was worth it, that Charlotte had found something that could help them.

Damon stepped up, putting a hand on her. His voice was steady now. “Thank you, Master Ian.”

“You’re welcome. You all right to do this?” Taggart asked.

Damon kept his tone low. “I’m fine. You know I have to do this or we’ll lose access to the dungeon. I’m perfectly in control.”

“Try not to make it so she can’t walk,” Taggart said. “We have a tour of Helsinki tomorrow.”

“I promise nothing.”

She could hear the frown in Damon’s words. She watched as Taggart’s boots moved out of view, and she couldn’t see anything but the floor in front of her.

“I apologize for the actions of my submissive. Her disobedient, reckless behavior reflects on me and my weakness.”

She hated how desolate he sounded. “Master…”

She nearly screamed at the pain that flashed through her whole system as he brought something horrible across her ass. It hit her with a thunk, moving up her spine and speeding along her every nerve ending.

“Do not speak. Do I need to gag you?” Damon moved around the sawhorse. She could see his boots as he stood in front of her.

She shook her head because she wasn’t speaking again.

“Excellent. Perhaps you’ll learn to obey me.” He knelt down, his voice lowering. “You think I’m doing this for show, but I’m not. I didn’t tell you to stay where you were for my happiness. I did it for your safety. And you took your collar off. I don’t care what you thought you were doing or why. The minute you took that collar off you put yourself at risk. The minute you stepped away from where I’d left you, you put yourself in the bloody line of fire, and I won’t have it. You will understand that when I’m done with you, love.” There was a paddle in his hand. A nasty looking round paddle.

He stood back up and almost immediately she felt the paddle on her backside.

“You don’t need to count. I’ll let you know when I’m done.” He smacked her three times, each one harder than the last.

Tears dripped from her eyes. She’d cried more in the last week than in the years before, but it was oddly satisfying. She’d learned that emotion wasn’t a flat thing. It could be multicolored, with more sides than a prism. The pain ached, flaring and causing her to bite her lip against the cries in her throat, but the tears were purifying. They were a release she’d needed for years. She’d been so numb before Damon. She’d smiled and been kind, but it was mostly because she’d been taught to do those things.

She felt it now. Her kindness flowed from an open soul and she never wanted to close it again, never wanted to go back to that place where pain was just pain, where tears were an annoyance, where she had no idea who she really was.

He’d opened her up in more ways than one. Because she was tied down, she had no choice but to endure because she wasn’t going to say her safe word. The spreader bar kept her open, leaving her pussy on display for him.

He was watching. He wanted her like this, needed her naked, and there was nothing wrong with it. He loved her body. He’d proven it over and over again.

He needed this. She needed this.

Penny relaxed and felt the pain, but also a deep peace. A floaty feeling came over her as he continued to paddle her. He struck her arse, her thighs, smacked right between her legs where her pussy felt the reverberation of the slap.

Every now and then, he slapped right on her pussy, making her gasp and squirm.

She lost track of time. Heat suffused her, making her skin feel more like a tether than flesh, holding her to the place where she floated along, holding her to Damon. Her partner. Her Master.

Her Master was so scared. She had to give him what he needed. She had to give him this. He could be so indulgent with her. He would spend hours pleasing her, making sure she was happy and satisfied. In the time she’d been his sub, he didn’t let her carry her own anything, insisting on bringing her coffee in the morning, on making sure she had the best of everything. It wasn’t hard to give him her submission in this. Their needs dovetailed beautifully.

The smacks finally stopped. She had no idea how many he’d given her as she started to come out of the pleasant place she found herself in. Her arse was on fire, but she welcomed it. It meant she’d endured. She would enjoy the ache in her cheeks even when they walked the streets of Helsinki.

He moved in front of her, his boots coming into view. When she held her head up, she could see the spanking had done something for him, too. While her pussy was aching and needy, his cock was straining against the laces of his leathers. Not for long though, as he quickly undid his pants and his cock sprang free. “This is for me. Open.”

She immediately licked at the head of his cock, tasting salt and Damon.

His hands gripped her hair, tightly but not enough to hurt. He always seemed to know exactly how to handle her. He squeezed and her scalp lit up. “Relax. I’m going to fuck your throat. You take what I give you, love. Show me you can obey when you want to.”

She gave over and suddenly found her mouth full of him. He invaded, pressing his dick in past her lips and teeth and over her willing tongue. He thrust in ruthlessly, and she had to remember to breathe.

He pressed in until she’d taken the whole of him. His grip never wavered, keeping her exactly where he wanted her. She was tied down and held for his pleasure. And it did something for her. She was slick and wet.

When he’d shoved his cock in as far as it would go, he held himself for a moment. “Fuck. You feel so damn good. You almost make me forget.”

He dragged his dick out and then forced himself back in. Over and over he fucked her mouth, his thrusts getting hurried and losing the precision she’d come to expect from him. He seemed to let himself go until finally she felt him swell against her tongue and he came. She heard him groan and curse just before he coated her tongue with his release.

She swallowed furiously, not wanting to lose a drop.

He panted above her, his hand softening on her hair. He finally pulled his cock out and straightened his leathers. “I’m going to release you now. We’re going back to the cabin, but you should understand this, Penelope. If you disobey again, even in the slightest way, I’ll have you right back here. I’ll tie you down and let every Dom in the dungeon have a go at you. Do you understand?”

Her whole body went cold as his words washed over her. He would let every man in the room…

“Penelope?”

He would? It took a moment for it to really settle in. She’d taken everything he gave her because she loved him. Because she loved what he did for her. Because she loved who she was when she was with him.

And he would give her to any man in the dungeon who wanted to take a turn?

“Penelope?” His voice hardened. “I need you to tell me you understand the punishment waiting for you if you disobey me again.”

Her safe word was right there on the tip of her tongue. She wanted to scream it at him, but she wasn’t in physical danger. No. There wasn’t a safe word in the world that could save her heart from breaking.

“Yes, Master.” She forced the words out though they were bitter on her tongue. She blinked back tears because she wasn’t going to let him see her cry. They’d felt like a healing balm only moments before. Now they would show far too much of her soul.

She’d counted on his possessiveness. She’d come to view it as his version of love. She’d been so foolish, thinking he just couldn’t say the words. It had been there in the back of her mind that she could teach him.

She shivered. God, she was naked in front of a crowd and the man she loved had just promised to allow her to be gang-banged in front of them if she didn’t follow his rules.

She shrank away from him the minute she could. When her hands and feet were free, she forced her stiff body to stand up, covering her breasts.

Damon frowned her way. “Are you all right? We should go in the back to one of the aftercare rooms. I was rough on you.”

Numbness was starting to flow through her veins, a welcome thing. She was able to stand tall. No matter what happened between her and Damon, she still had her job. “I’m fine. I would rather retire to our cabin. I would like a shower if that pleases you.”

Her words were like stones, falling from her mouth. Flat. Cold and hard.

“If you like.” Someone had passed him a robe. He held it out, but she couldn’t stand the thought of him wrapping it around her. He would hug her, like he always did, but now she knew it was a meaningless gesture.

She took the robe from his hand and quickly wrapped it around her body, grateful to not be on display a second longer. What had seemed loving a moment before now made her feel vulnerable.

Years of doubt rushed back in, blocking the progress she’d made. She stared at Damon. He really was beautiful, and she wasn’t close to his league.

What had she been thinking?

He closed his kit, zipping it up. Her collar was in his hand. “I’d like to put it back on you.”

She was safer with it on, but the idea repulsed her a bit. Would he take it off before he let another man have her? Or was it so meaningless to him that it wouldn’t matter?

She nodded, turning and holding her hair up, forcing herself to stay still while he clasped it back on.

“Are you sure you’re all right? I should look at your skin. I don’t think I raised welts. I could be wrong.” For the first time, he sounded deeply unsure of himself.

“No. I’m fine. We should get back to our friends.” The mission was important. Her feelings, his feelings or lack thereof, didn’t matter. She’d been an idiot. She’d spent more time thinking about how to continue her relationship with Damon than focusing on the reason she was here. That time was done. She would obey Damon and do her job and then walk away at the end.

He’d wanted to teach her how dangerous it was to be close to him. She’d finally learned the lesson. She couldn’t fix him. She couldn’t heal him.

“All right.” He picked up his kit and stepped off the stage, turning to hold his hand out to help her down.

Stubbornness bought her nothing. She placed her hand in his, but she’d never been further away.