Keeping my head bowed, I peeked at Rafe, and the tribal tattoo covering the left side of his heaving chest drew my focus. The black lines danced over his abs as he tried to catch his breath from his eventual dive into ecstasy.

My heart wouldn’t stop galloping, and a flush bathed my skin in sweat. I was hot and wet between my thighs. Rafe did that. We did that to each other. His release still echoed in my mind, an arousing whisper that infiltrated my system until I wanted to squirm.

I couldn’t bring myself to look at his face. I knew I’d find only shame and self-hate. He hadn’t been capable of holding back, and though that thrilled some sadistic part of me, it would douse him in guilt because Cleft and his men would punish me for it.

But wasn’t that the point? They were doing this to fuck with his head, with both of our heads.

Someone grabbed my shoulders and hoisted me to my feet.

“Leave her alone!” Rafe shouted.

I didn’t bother fighting. There was no point, but beyond that, I refused to give them the satisfaction. Firm fingers turned my head, and I met Brock’s eyes. He leaned forward and dragged his tongue up my cheek.

“Stop tasting the bitch and chain her up,” Cleft said.

Brock wrenched my arms behind me and forced my body into a bent over position. I spread my feet for traction and lifted my head, finally peering at Rafe through my thick, messy curls.

He pulled at the chains mercilessly, and panic strained his features. He looked ready to rip out of his skin to get to me.

The heavy thump of Brock’s footsteps halted behind me. He took his time, prolonging the torture of waiting for that first strike.

It was going to hurt. I knew it before the whip sliced the air. The leather cut across my ass with scorching impact, and I locked my gaze on Rafe, pretending he’d ordered the lashing.

I’d been bad. Maybe I’d come before he’d given me permission, or I’d done something more serious, like piss him off with some sort of reckless behavior. I could see myself doing that. I was, after all, the girl who’d tried to kill herself in an attempt to escape a psychopath.

My scattered thoughts were on the brink of reality. Even acknowledging that didn’t slow the wheels of my mind. We had no way out, no way of knowing how long either of us would live.

I wouldn’t let them take this from us. Pain…pain between Rafe and I was supposed to be good, so with each thwack of that whip, I pretended it was from him. Squeezing my legs together, I hoped they wouldn’t notice the evidence of my arousal.