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waist, her feet bound to the ends. The third supported her hips, higher than her head, forcing her butt skyward and vulnerable to the movement behind her.
    A heavy palm settled on the arch of one spread cheek. Violent shudders bombarded her body, making the chains groan against the wood beam above as she swayed.
    “I missed you, Charlee.” The voice, oily and pungent like octane, produced a rush of saliva over her tongue. She gagged, retching up water, stringy with spit, on the ebony hardwoods.
    His touch vanished.
    Slap.
    A sting rippled over her butt. It was nothing. He was just warming up.
    Anguish gripped her insides. Any semblance of hope she’d held onto shriveled with that first strike. It was only the beginning of the pain she would endure for the next few hours, perhaps for the rest of her life.
    The palm returned to her hip, fevered and sweaty, sliding over her back, her shoulders, and dipped to cup her breast. “You’ve kept yourself beautiful for me, Charlee, my good girl.”
    She narrowed all thoughts on building her armor. She’d created the mental barrier at sixteen, and over the two years that followed, she thickened her skin with it, layer after layer, training her subconscious to unleash it. If she could figure out how to hold it through the worst parts, perhaps nothing would penetrate it. Not his words, nor his eyes. Not even the cut of his cane.
    The stroking continued, down her breastbone, along her ribs, and backtracked to capture each nipple. Goosebumps trailed the path.
    Her shield sparked in her mind’s eye and shaped an ethereal coat over her body. The invading hand was still there, but the notional space beneath it buffered the sensation.
    Oh God, she didn’t want to be there. She trembled to be back in St. Louis with Noah, at his house, in his bed, just like they’d planned. He’d be wrapped around her, protecting her.
    Her stomach bucked. Did he live? Was he angry at her for lying to him? Would she ever feel the tenderness of his touch again?
    Finality coiled around her, constricting and choking. Her life with Noah was over, an unanswered wish. She couldn’t think of him. Not in this place, where no one would be looking for her. Longing for him would destroy her.
    “I’m talking to you. I expect an acknowledgement.”
    Smack. Smack.
    “Unh.” Fuck. Her armor shuddered beneath the sturdier strike, the lingering bite. The fucking paddle. She flexed the muscles in her backside, longing to rub out the sting. “Y-yes, Sir.”
    Smack.
“Yes, Sir, what?”
    He wanted her to say she missed him. Not just reciprocate but put her heart in the words. She could do it. She could look into his vile eyes and impart the words. She coughed, tried to clear the panic amassing in her throat. “May I…may I look at you, Sir?”
    Einstein claimed that physical concepts were creations of the mind. The brain was power. She tried to focus on that, on her shield, and not on his shadow moving over her, around her.
    Then he was there, nude from the belt up with his wool-stretching arousal an inch from her face. She’d watched clueless fucking women stare at his beauty, flock to him with ignorant desire. They wouldn’t salivate over his strength if they were trapped beneath it.
    The musculature in his torso stretched as he crouched to eye level. Despite the brawn on display, the pasty complexion gave him a sickly appearance. His eyes, violet in daylight, were as dark as the energy emanating off him.
    Her armor rose from her skin and outlined her body. She kept herself safe beneath it where he couldn’t see her or hurt her. On the outside, she arranged her mouth into a smile, her cheeks shaking with the effort, and held his gaze. “I missed you, Sir.”
    His pupils dilated, and his hands swung up, caging her face, fingers pressing into her temples. Then his mouth was on her, tongue knifing its way in, slashing, impaling. She held stock-still, mouth agape, and let his teeth scrape and pierce, his lips suck