Page 2 of Bloody Savage God
Without hesitation, I approach her, resisting the urge to look around. Even if Gianna were here, it wouldn’t be smart to approach her. Not yet anyway.
I might prefer action, but Gianna is special. I don’t know how I know, but there is some instinct that drives my actions now, and I’m not about to mess with whatever is left of the primal hunting instinct we humans have inherited from our ancestors.
I’m a hunter and she’s worthy prey.
First, I need to study her. Learn her habits. Get a feel for what she needs and wants.
Ensure that I hold the power.
I stop in front of the woman I’ve chosen as my distraction and she looks me up and down, a pleased smile on her face.
“What can I do for you, darling?” she purrs, running a hand over my chest, and I allow it, not intent on passing up the opportunity tonight.
“I want to feel pain. A lot of pain.”
I can see the flash of surprise in her expression at my directness, but then she nods, a glint of approval in her eyes. Not that I care about what this stranger thinks. She’s a tool. A means to an end.
“I think I can arrange that,” she says, before leading me to a nearby St. Andrew’s cross. Because yeah, this place is a full-blown sex club with all the fun little toys that come with that.
She fastens me to the cross, my arms and legs spread wide, and starts to work her magic with the bullwhip. The pain is intense, but it is also exhilarating. At least this woman knows what she’s doing, which is more than I can say about most people I meet.
I close my eyes and let out a moan, reveling in the sensation. Feeling some of that nervous energy leave my body.
It gives me the relief I crave. The outlet I’ve long ago embraced.
But even as the Mistress continues her assault, I can’t help but feel my thoughts drifting back to Gianna. I imagine her standing across the room, watching me with a mix of curiosity and amusement.
I force my eyes open, scanning the room for her once more. And, fuck me, there she is, standing at the bar, a glass of whiskey in her hand. Our eyes meet for a moment, and in that instant, everything else fades away.
I don’t even feel the whip anymore. All I focus on is Gianna.
The Mistress’s words fade into the background–she is irrelevant, only useful for the pain she’s delivering. Each strike of the whip across my flesh is nothing compared to the electric jolt I feel when Gianna’s gaze meets mine.
I’m transfixed by her, by the power she exudes, by the way she commands the room without even trying. And my eyes aren’t the only ones drawn to her. Despite my intense focus, I notice several other men similarly mesmerized by her.
Yeah, I wasn’t wrong about this. She is special.
And she’ll be mine.
I need her to be.
She might be the pretty face of the Bruno syndicate, but I’d eat my own cock if she isn’t more than that. My father doesn’t believe it. Thinks she’s just a pawn used by her father, the way he uses my sister. But the woman I see doesn’t look like a pawn. She looks like a shark.
A fucking beauty who means trouble. But I don’t care.
All I want is to feel her touch, to know what it’s like to have her hold that damn whip.
I break eye contact, not ready to give away my plans just yet, but even as I turn back to the stranger I picked as my distraction, I know I will come back for her. That I will seek her out, again and again, until she finally gives in to me.
Eventually, the Mistress stops, and I am left panting and gasping for breath. She did a decent job, even if she came nowhere near the threshold of my capacity to embrace pain. She unfastens me from the cross and hands me a glass of water, like I’m some kid that requires a mommy to care for him.
“Did you enjoy that?” she asks, a hint of concern in her voice. “We could continue with something else?”
I didn’t bother faking the emotions other people go through during the scene. Didn’t care enough about the charade I’m putting on. I wanted the pain, and I got it.
Already elsewhere with my thoughts, I just nod. It’s the easiest way to be done with her. “This was fine. Thank you,” I say, before turning and walking away, my eyes fixed on Gianna as I head to the exit.
Staying would be better, watching her, stalking her, but there are still things my father expects me to get done tonight, so Gianna will have to wait.
