by Morgan Hawke
The hair on Fallon’s neck rose. “What?” She took a step back.
Khan lifted his hand and uncoiled the meter-long whip from his left wrist. “You need to be punished.”
Fallon took another step back. “‘Syr! I gave you my program!”
“Yes, you did.” He set the whip on the smooth desktop and pulled his daggers from his sash, dropping them in his abandoned chair. “You also omitted telling me that it was there.” His chin dropped and his copper gaze heated as he unfastened his over-robe, exposing his black under-robe. “But I think you are missing the point entirely.”
Fallon searched her memory. Point? He had a point? She lifted her chin, exposing her throat in instinctive submission. “‘Syr, I don’t understand!”
Khan nodded. “I see that.” His smile broadened, showing teeth as he peeled his black and scarlet over-robe from his shoulders. “Go around to the front of my desk, and take off your robe.” He began to unwind the scarlet sash closing his black under-robe.
Fallon hunched her shoulders and turned away, tugging at her red sash. It was probably better to just endure it than piss him off any more by trying to talk him out of it. She’d been cornered and beaten before ... but not with a whip. She pulled the robes from her shoulders and took deep breaths. As long as she was still breathing at the end of it, she would recover.
Bare-chested, wearing only his long black kilt, with whip in hand, Khan followed her around to the front of the desk. His long pale braid lay over his shoulder and across his breast, nearly falling to his waist. The black band around his brow and his matching black nipple rings gleamed with midnight rainbows under the light. He tugged her robes and sash from her fingers and dropped them on the desk. “Go to the window.”
Fallon walked over to the huge window and stared at the streaming stars of jump-space.
Khan stepped behind her and set his right palm on the glass.
A gleaming black rail oozed into being just below Fallon’s chest height, forming directly from the window. The rest of the window darkened and became opaque, then lightened to become reflective.
Fallon stared at her reflection and that of Khan standing behind her, his arm extended past her right shoulder. She frowned. “A mirror?”
Khan smiled. “I want to watch your face.” His smile broadened. “As you scream.”
Fallon winced, hating the fear that widened her eyes. Anger tightened her mouth. Sadistic ...
Khan nodded. “Yes, yes, I know. I’m a sadistic bastard.”
Fallon flinched. The collar. He was listening in on her thoughts through the damned collar.
Khan’s eye narrowed. Yes. No more secrets. He moved behind her, and his warm hands cupped her shoulders. The whip was a cool length dangling down the side of her arm. He leaned closer, his mouth brushing against her ear. “The point you were missing is that I am beating you because it pleases me to do so.”
Fallon lifted her chin, exposing her throat, and swallowed. It would please him ... A small shiver raced across her skin. She wanted to please him. To her complete surprise, her belly clenched with sudden hunger, and moisture pooled.
“Yes, now you understand.” His lips curved in a smile. His mouth slid down the side of her throat, his hot breath scorching her skin. His left hand slid down her arm and swept across her belly. “I fully intended to whip you, all along.” He pressed against her back. He was urgently hard under his kilt. His copper eyes gleamed with hunger in the mirror before them. “Your disobedience was merely a convenient excuse.”
Sudden, demanding erotic heat scorched through her. Fallon shivered hard and her knees wobbled. She grabbed for the rail to keep from falling.
His hand swept up her belly to cup her bare breast. Her nipple hardened in his palm. He smiled. “Ah ... yes.” He closed both arms around her, his whip a cool length falling against her bare belly to curl around her feet. “You want to feel the kiss of my whip as much as I want to hear you scream.” He pressed a soft kiss on her throat. Mine .
Chapter Twenty-Four
Fallon shivered in Khan’s arms. His cocks were hot, rigid lengths against the small of her back even as the whip in his hand was a cool threat against her belly. And yet, erotic anticipation coiled within her and tightened. Her body both feared and hungered for what he was about to give her.
Reflected in the glass, Fallon’s eyes widened to dark pits framed by thin rings of bright emerald and color flushed her cheeks. There was no mistaking that her body was looking forward to the pain he was about to unleash. She vibrated with the feral need for pain at his hand, driven by an instinct that demanded he touch her, that he mark her with his possession. Some part of her needed him to prove to her that he wanted her. That she was his.
It was not love, it was instinct. And somehow, that hurt.
Khan’s reflected gaze caught hers. His eyes were bright rings of copper around blackness. His cheeks were warm with color and his lips looked flushed and rich.
And she had caused it. She had brought the scent of arousal rising from his skin. He wanted her. She could see it in his hot gaze, feel it in the erections pressing against her backside and in the pressure of his fingers against her belly.
Impulsively, she turned toward him and lifted her mouth to his, pressing a sudden kiss to his lips.
Khan received her kiss and replied gently, then hungrily. His arms tightened, and he growled into her mouth, his tongue lashing and his teeth clicking against hers.
She replied with a trace of that odd vibration, her purr.
His hand left her belly. “Hold tight to the rail.” His voice was deeper than usual and rumbled with a touch of a growl. “Stay upright but keep your head down, and keep your feet together.” He brushed her black braid over her shoulder, and it swept against the top of her breast. “My target is your back, ass, and thighs.” His lips pressed against the base of her neck. “If you wish the whip to kiss your breasts and belly, extend your arms.”
Fallon nodded. She simply couldn’t find the breath to speak.
He stepped back, and the whip snaked across the blood red carpet as he placed himself behind her.
Fallon stared at what she could see of his reflection. Her hands closed tight on the rail. Moisture slicked her thighs and dribbled down.
The whip cracked loud and sharp.
Fallon jumped. He hadn’t touched her.
Khan smiled. “Ready?”
Impatience and a touch of annoyance at her cowardice spurred her mouth before she thought. “Do I need to be?”
Khan’s brows rose. “No, not really.” His hand moved, just barely. The whip didn’t make more than a whisper of sound as it flicked through the air.
Fire erupted across her left hip.
Fallon’s head shot up and she hissed. “Shit!” She dropped her head and arched her back, stomping her foot in reaction.
The whip cracked.
Her right hip flared with pain.
Fallon choked, but kept her head down that time. She could not stop the instinctive arch and twist of her spine.
“Oh, very pretty.” Khan stepped to the side and smiled into her mirrored gaze. “You dance well under the whip.”
Fallon clenched her teeth and shot a glare at his reflection. “Gee, thanks, ‘Syr.”
He grinned. “You’re welcome.” He nodded. “Hold tight and try to stay still. I’m going to stripe you, shoulder to ass, very fast.”
Fast ... Fallon cringed. “Great.”
His hand rose and fell, and rose ... over and over with incredible speed. The whip snapped almost continuously.
He stopped.
Huh? Fallon took a startled breath. She’d barely felt a whisper. Her entire right side abruptly bloomed with ferocious heat, and then blazed with fire. She took a deep breath. And then another. And then another ...
“Isabeau, breathe!” His voice lashed through her, cutting through the white heat of her back. “Don’t hold it! Let it go!”
Let it go? She threw back her head a
nd shouted every obscenity she could think of. She arched and twisted to relieve the searing burn of her scorched skin, knowing damned well that it wouldn’t do a drop of good. She didn’t let go of the bar.
“Breathe!”
Fallon pressed her brow to the cool mirror before her and breathed. There was a slight tightening in the back of her mind -- and then a loosening. Her entire body followed, her muscles releasing and relaxing. A calmness seemed to steal over her, and her thoughts drifted apart. It felt like she was getting just a little ... high. The pain on her back didn’t fade exactly, but it seemed to matter less. Oh ...
“That’s it. Breathe deep and slow.” Khan’s brow rose. “Ready for the other side?”
Fallon eyed his reflection and considered a number of rude comments. She discarded them all. She was actually feeling too ... relaxed to put any real energy into them. She pushed upright and braced herself. “Fast again?”
Khan’s smile was slow and malicious. “Not quite. This time I want you feel each one.”
He wanted her to feel each one? Fallon had to remember to breathe. Temper surged, and slipped away. It was hard to be angry in this odd frame of mind. “Fine, whatever.”
Khan grinned. “Good.” He drew his arm back, letting the whip slide across the carpet. “Hold as still as you can, and shout or scream to let the pain go through you. Don’t try to hold onto it.”
Crack!
A thin line of fire sliced across the meat of her left shoulder blade. She gasped and gripped the rail tighter.
“Relax, don’t hold it.”
Fallon loosened her hands and took a breath. The pain faded.
Crack!
Another line of fire erupted exactly under the first. She gasped and squelched the small cry that tried to escape with it.
“Let the pain out with your voice.” His voice was calm and firm. “Breathe.”
She breathed.
Crack! Burn ...
She yelped and arched, only a little.
“Let the pain out with your voice.”
Crack! Burn ...
She yelped louder and her toes curled.
“Better. Keep your feet flat on the floor.”
She dropped to her heels. “Yes, ‘Syr.” Her voice sounded a little high.
“Breathe deeper between the strikes. ”
She sucked in a breath. “Yes, ‘Syr.”
Crack! Burn ...
Fallon cried out and gasped for breath.
“Louder, and breathe deeper.”
She took a deeper breath. She was definitely feeling light-headed.
Crack! Burn ...
She shouted. He was right, the pain seemed to move faster through her with her shouts.
Crack! Burn ... Crack! Burn ... Crack! Burn ...
She was forced to take deeper breaths between the strokes that slashed down her left side. One after the other, after the other, after the other ... Her shouts gained in volume. Her spine curved slowly from side to side, not twisting to avoid him but simply because her body needed to move.
Crack! Burn ... Crack! Burn ... Crack! Burn ...
She wasn’t quite sure when her shouts became small screams. Nor was she sure exactly when she was forced to close her eyes because she couldn’t see past the tears. She had no idea why she was crying. She didn’t feel unhappy. It just ... happened.
Crack! Burn ... Crack! Burn ... Crack! Burn ...
Her screams increased in volume until she couldn’t gain a full breath fast enough to scream loud enough. But she didn’t ask him to stop, and she didn’t let go of the rail.
He stopped.
She gasped, wavered, and dropped to one knee. “Oh, shit, oh, shit ... Oh, fuck!”
Khan was at her side in two long steps. He knelt. “Are you still with me?” His palm swept across her damp cheeks, and two fingers pressed into the pulse on the side of her throat.
Fallon nodded and winced. Her entire back was on freaking fire! “Shit!”
He caught her face and stared into her eyes. He smiled. “Very bravely done.”
Fallon’s heart contracted and ached. He thought her brave. She closed her eyes. Fresh, hot tears slid down her cheeks in a sudden rush. She blinked in surprise. Tears? What the ...?
He smiled as his thumbs brushed her damp cheeks. “That’s it, that’s good.” His voice was very soft.
“Good?” She leaned close and pressed her brow against his. “But I don’t know why ...” She sniffed. “Why I’m ...”
“Why are you crying?”
“Yeah ... that.”
“It’s release, catharsis. Everything you had pent up in you, escaping. Pain does that. It releases all the emotions at once.” He took a deep breath and released it on a sigh. “If the emotions run deep, sometimes pain is the only release.”
She leaned back to look up at him. “You ...?”
“Of course.” Khan smiled. “Let’s put it this way, neither my nipples nor my dick piercings happened by accident.”
Fallon cringed. “I couldn’t imagine ...”
Khan snorted. “I doubt you’ll ever have that level of ... frustration, to need that kind of pain.” He caught her by the elbows. “Stand up. Stand up and look.” He lifted her, holding her against his chest. “Turn and see.”
Fallon brushed the tears from her cheeks and looked over her shoulder. In the mirror, she saw herself curled into Khan’s embrace. Bright red lines framed her spine in a downward feather-like pattern, one atop the other, decorating her entire back from shoulder to upper thigh. It was actually somewhat ... pretty, in a kinky kind of way. She frowned. “That’s damned precise.”
Khan smiled in the mirror. “Thank you.” His palm slid across the welts that burned down her back.
Fallon’s head came up and her breath exploded in a groan. “Oh, you just had to rub it, too!”
His cheek pressed against hers. “It feels wonderful. And hot, very hot.” His palm slid across her back again.
Fallon let a small whimper escape. “Yeah, I bet.”
His arms closed around her, both palms wide open and pressing against the welts. “How brave are you feeling?”
Fallon panted for breath to hold back the moan. “How brave do you need me to be?”
“Good answer.” Khan chuckled. “I was thinking that while we have thoroughly adorned your back, your front is rather naked.”
What? She jerked back and stared up at him. “I don’t think I can take that on my front.”
Khan pursed his lips and raised his brow. “I was thinking more on the lines of three.”
“Three?”
“On each side.”
Fallon swallowed. Six then. “Where?”
He caught her elbows and pushed her back. Her back met the rail. It was icy against her overheated skin. It actually felt so good it hurt. She hissed.
Khan released her and raised his hands. “I was thinking, here.” His thumbs traced along the outer edges of both breasts. “And here.” His thumbs slid under and up to the inside curve of her breasts. “And here.” His gaze dropped and his hands fell to cup the gentle curve of her belly. “One on either side of the navel.” He raised his eyes and caught her gaze. “These would have to be far lighter. The skin is far more tender. Can you take it?”
Could she? Fallon took a deep breath. And then another. She looked up at him. “And that’s all?”
Khan folded his arms and raised a brow. “And then I fuck the shit out of you.”
Fallon felt the weirdest bubble of humor erupt from nowhere. She almost laughed out loud.
Khan frowned. “What?”
Fallon dropped her chin and smiled. “I could really use the fuck.”
Khan rolled his eyes. “I believe that goes without saying. You’re dripping on the carpet.”
Fallon looked down. Excitement was a wet trail down the insides of her thighs. Spots of damp marked the deep-red carpeting at her feet. “Oh ...”
“Can you handle more?”
Fallon look
ed up at Khan’s face. His kilt was tented with his erections, but his knuckles were white around the handle of the whip and his gaze was very bright. He clearly wanted to inflict little more pain before he fucked her.
Fallon wanted to please him. She liked pleasing him. She smiled. “I can take it.”
He smiled, showing his teeth. “Good.” It was not a pleasant smile.
Oh, shit ... The hair rose on Fallon’s neck, and her chin jerked up, baring her throat. She knew it was a submissive gesture, but she was too alarmed to care.
He caught the length of the whip in his free hand, caressing it. “Grab the rail behind you, and tilt your head back.”
Fallon did as asked and did not bother to ask if he was going to go fast. She strongly suspected that he was going to draw this out very slowly.
The whip cracked.
A thin whisper of air caressed the outside of her right breast. Then it burned. A lot. She closed her eyes tighter, arched, and moaned.
“Heels down, and don’t hold it in.”
Panting, Fallon dropped her heels on the deck.
The whip cracked.
A thin whisper of air caressed the outside of her left breast. Then it burned ... even more.
Fallon opened her mouth releasing a gasp and its accompanying yelp. Great Maker, when will I learn to stop while I’m ahead?
The whip cracked.
A thin whisper of air caressed the inside of her right breast. Then it blazed white-hot. She shouted. “Son of a fucking bitch!” She stomped her foot twice for good measure.
“Oh, that was pretty, and it made your breasts jiggle nicely.”
Fallon spat out another curse. “I’m glad it pleased you.” She stomped her foot one more time. “‘Syr.”
The whip cracked.
A thin whisper of air caressed the left side of her belly. It felt like a knife slash.
Fallon gasped, and gasped again, while tears streamed from her eyes. She hadn’t gotten enough air to scream. She very nearly dropped to her knees. Her grip on the bar behind her was the only thing that kept her up. Her breath exploded from her. “Bastard!” She dropped her chin to glare at him. “That fucking hurt .”
Khan nearly laughed. “I see that, and you forgot to let your breath out. Chin up, two more to go, and breathe.”