Page 41 of Vienna Betrayal

He stepped closer to the spanking bench, towards her upraised ass, and lifted the paddle.

Alena closed her eyes and braced herself.

Smooth cool wood slid across her ass and down the back of her thighs, then reversed course, coming back to her ass.

Alena exhaled noisily. “You asshole.”

“Watch your tongue.” The paddle rubbed in circles over her butt. “You’re a masochist, but not an extreme one. Is pain what helps you feel submissive?”

Lecturing and psychoanalysis were both fairly common Dom pastimes. She hadn’t figured her quiet man was the type to deliberately poke at her limits in order to see how she reacted.

Alena took a breath, considered giving a playful, glib response, but as quickly as she’d considered it, dismissed it.

“There’s a point midway up the pain spectrum where it no longer feels like pain is just a tool that my top is using,” she said quietly.

“You place restrictions in order to stop the pain from rising above that threshold you’ve identified.”

“Yes.” It hadn’t been a question, but she responded anyway. Her throat felt tight almost as if she were about to cry, which was ridiculous.

“What happens if you are pushed past that point?”

“It hurts too much.”

“Physically?”

“Please don’t keep asking me these questions.”

“I thought you enjoyed questions, talking.”

The paddle kept up its smooth circular caress. It had been nothing but gentle, yet she couldn’t relax. Any minute now he could raise that paddle and strike her with it. It would hurt. And the hurt would bring up shit she did not want to think about right now.

“It’s not just the pain you’re afraid of, is it?”

“Stop analyzing me.”

“I’m not.” He paused the paddle’s caress and she tensed. “I’m learning my sub’s limits.”

He laid the paddle down along her spine, then crouched by her head. “What are you protecting with the limit?” He brushed a few errant strands of hair back behind her ear. “What are you really afraid of?”

Alena closed her eyes and lifted her head just enough that she could press her cheek against his palm. Funny, how they both kept repeating that hand-on-cheek caress.

Her throat was now so tight with emotion that she couldn’t talk.

“Alena.”

She shook her head, not ready to speak just yet.

He reached out, running his hand along her side to her hip. He massaged her butt cheek in his big hand, and arousal bloomed inside her.

She shifted a little, trying to press her ass more firmly into his touch.

He patted her butt, the taps not quite hard enough to be a spanking. “What scares you, Alena?”

“My past.” She opened her eyes, her voice under her control, the tears that had almost spilled now safely tucked away.

“Your past?” Alexander’s brow beetled. “You were abused by a Dom who didn’t respect your limits?”

“No, the abuse wasn’t from a Dom.”

---