After thirty-two strikes, I could barely breathe against the pain. I had refused to count out loud, but I had been keeping track of every strike, letting each lash cut away the empty void inside of me. My stamina was not what it once had been. The agony bombarded my mind and made it difficult to find the oblivion I so desperately craved. Why couldn’t I sink into it now? That point of clarity…eluded me.
Instead of pain, I wanted him. Jake’s tender caress. The sweep of his palm over my breast. The heat of his breath as he worshiped me and brought me to fulfillment with pleasure and not pain.