I pulled Blake’s note out and read it again even though I had it memorized.

I need to talk to my brothers, but I’d rather have stayed with you. Come back to the retreat, and I’ll see you later. B

Not a declaration of love, but I understood the effort he was making. Besides, he’d said it plenty of times last night.

I smiled at the memories of all the things we’d done. My body ached, but in a good way, like every twinge was an acknowledgment that it’d really happened, that things between us had changed. Every time my bra rubbed against my sore nipples, I’d think of those clothespins. Every reflective surface had me checking how well my makeup was holding up. If I’d been in town, I wouldn’t have really cared if anyone saw the marks Blake had left, but at my parents’ business, with Blake’s brothers here, I wanted to stay professional and discreet.

I glanced at my phone. His text had come through around two, and it’d been vague about whatever they were talking about, but he’d ended it by asking if he could come by my room even if it was late. I’d said yes.

He hadn’t responded to the text I’d just sent, but that was okay. I’d only needed him to know that I was going to take a shower, but he could let himself in.

I made my shower thorough but as quick as I could, more thankful than ever that I’d cut my hair. When I emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in the new red silk robe that my parents had brought back from one of their recent trips to Japan, I was glad I’d taken a shower when I had. Blake was sitting on my bed, a shell-shocked expression on his face.

I sat next to him and put my hand on his arm. “Are you okay?”

“I-I don’t know,” he said. He didn’t look at me, but I got the impression that he wasn’t looking at anything, really.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“We talked,” he said woodenly. “My brothers and me. Made apologies. I thought everything would be good from there. We’d forget about the past and move on.”

After a minute of silence, I prompted, “And that’s not what happened?”

He shrugged, the movement jerky. “I guess it did. It is.” He raised his head, and the pain I saw in his eyes pierced me. “My parents and sister were murdered.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. Who would? Then Jax’s words came back to me, and I went from horrified to confused. “I thought they were in a car accident.”

“Me too.” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “But my grandfather thought it could be murder. He even hired a PI. Jax got a letter. They think our dad was working on a story and made the wrong people mad.”

I had a million more questions, but all of them were unimportant next to taking care of Blake. He’d fill me in later. Right now, he needed me.

“What can I do to help you?” I asked, combing my fingers through his hair.

He leaned into my touch. “I need to forget. Can you help me forget?”

I pressed my lips against his cheek. “I can do that.”

I slid off the bed until I was on my knees in front of him. He looked down at me as I undid his belt and then went for his pants. I pulled them down enough that I could get to what I wanted. He wasn’t hard yet, but the moment I touched his cock, it twitched.

I took all of him into my mouth, enjoying the way he moaned my name as I swirled my tongue around the swelling shaft. His hand came down on my head, but he wasn’t pushing me. He let me set the pace, using my hands and mouth to get him nice and hard. I’d always been amazed at the way a man’s penis could be soft and hard at the same time. The silky skin and firm muscle, each erotic in their own way. Knowing that I was responsible for his body’s reaction gave me a power that I liked. I’d never had issues with body image, and the men I’d dated in the past had always complimented me, but something about being this way with Blake made it…better.

As he grew, I took less and less of him in my mouth, unable to go any deeper without gagging. I had one hand around the base, moving in short quick movements as I continued to work my way around the rest of him. The hair on his thighs was rough against the palm of my hand, against my cheeks, but I didn’t mind. I wanted every part of him. I dropped my hand down to cup his balls. I rolled them between my fingers, explored every inch of them.

His hips started to jerk, pushing him deeper into my mouth, and he pulled on my hair.

“I’m going to–”

I sucked harder, turning his statement into a curse, and a moment later, he came. I swallowed, then used my tongue to clean him up before raising my head and sitting back on my heels.

He leaned forward and cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing over my bottom lip. “Thank you.”

I licked the tip of his thumb, arousal tightening inside me at the heated look on Blake’s face. I stood and moved between his legs, so I was only inches from him. He wrapped his arms around me, his head resting on my stomach. I ran my fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp, appreciating the soft strands of hair as they moved between my fingers.

“Better?” I asked after several minutes of silence.

“Better.” His hands slid down my back to my ass.

“But you want more.” I made it a statement rather than a question.

“I know you’re probably sore from last night,” he said. “I wasn’t exactly gentle.”

I smiled. “I think I gave almost as good as I got. How scratched up are you?”

He laughed. Not the big, full laugh that I loved, but it was still a laugh. I counted it as a win.

I took a step back, and he let me go. When he raised his head to look at me, I untied the belt to my robe and let the silk fall naturally, framing my body. I held out the hand with the belt and waited for him to decide if this was what he wanted.

He toed off his shoes, then pulled his shirt over his head. After he removed the rest of his clothing, he stood. He took the belt and looked around the room, finally walking over to my closet and looking inside.

“How sturdy is that bar?” he asked.

I shrugged. “No clue. I’ve barely used it the past couple weeks. Why?”

“Let’s try it out.”

Less than ten minutes later, my robe was on the floor, and my hands were tied to the bar in the closet. Blake stood behind me, and I could see his reflection in the closet door’s mirror to my left. He was holding his belt. Unlike my silk one, his was leather, and when he snapped it, the sound made my mouth go dry.

“Give me a word you’ll say if you need me to stop.”

“Um.” It wasn’t easy thinking in this position. “Butterfly?”

He chuckled. “Seriously?”

“It’s the first word that came to mind,” I said. “Now, are you going to stand there all night, or are you going to do someth–fuck!!”

I’d barely processed his reflection moving before the leather came down on my ass with a loud crack. The pain spider-webbed across my skin like fractures in glass. I cursed again, pulling against my restraints. The silk dug into my skin, a new element of discomfort to work into everything my body was feeling. A second blow with the belt drove away the hurt in my wrists.

“Dammit, Blake!” I shouted. I looked over my shoulder to see him moving his hand over his half-erect cock. “You’re enjoying this a little too much.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

He’d do it, I knew, stop if I asked him to. But this wasn’t about me. This was about him and what he needed. And he needed this.

“No,” I said. “I trust you to make me feel good.”

“Then close your eyes and let yourself feel it.”

I faced front again and let my head fall forward. I closed my eyes and waited. The anticipation was almost worse than the belt.

A third strike, this time along the bottom of my ass.

Almost.

I focused on breathing, on feeling it all.

In. Out. In. Out. Crack. In. Out. Crack. In. Out. In. Out…

I lost count. I lost everything that wasn’t the near-agony of the belt and the throbbing need that had settled between my legs. I vaguely heard the cries I made and had only enough reasoning to hope that no one could hear us. I couldn’t hold on to the steady breathing I’d done, and now air rasped in and out of my lungs.

I jerked when Blake’s hand touched me, but I didn’t pull away. I whimpered as he lightly traced the marks he’d made, new pinpricks of pain shooting across my already frazzled nerves. Then his fingers were between my legs, slipping between my lips, inside me, back out, up, circling my clit, giving me just enough pressure to ache for more, but not enough to satisfy me.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he said. “Did you get this wet from going down on me, or from the belt?”

“Both,” I answered without embarrassment or shame. What we were doing was pure and good, no matter what other people might think. We were two consenting adults, satisfying the needs of someone we loved. It didn’t get any purer than that.

“Damn.” He kissed my shoulder. “I don’t think I can go slow.”

“Don’t then.”

A moment later, he was buried inside me, and my knees threatened to give out. He didn’t take his time, slamming into me while all the pain and pleasure twisted and knotted together until I couldn’t tell one from the other. My legs were weak, but he held me up, his fingers bruising my hips as he raced toward the finish.

Words mixed with primal grunts, neither of them forming anything coherent alone, but together telling me exactly how he felt about me.

“Good…fucking hot…shit…Brea…love…love…need…want…need you…never stop…”

He came with my name on his lips, his thrusts becoming short and jerky. Still, he had the presence of mind to reach down and find my clit. It didn’t take much to send me over the edge, and a part of me thought that if he’d kept talking, I would’ve come even without his touch.

Damn, I loved him.