Page 27 of Saint
The feeling of the engine being killed has my eyes opening. I look at the surroundings and groan. “Take me to my place, please, Saint. I just want to sleep.”
“You can stay with me until you’re healed. Those welts will need treating, and you can’t reach them all.”
Okay, that makes some sense, but he could do it all in my flat. I look out of the window and sigh. “Don’t you think tonight has been bad enough for me without having your brother in on my humiliation.”
“He’s not stopping, I want him to do something for me. Wait here.” He hops out of the truck and walks over to his brother. They talk for a few minutes. Royal’s gaze switches to me, and fury takes over his placid expression. He says something, and with a nod, he gets back in his car.
Saint smiles sadly at me. “Come on, let me get you feeling a little better.”
“Only if you drop the act and get angry with me. I’m used to that side of Saint,” I snap at him.
“Trust me, boy, there’s going to be plenty of that. But right now, I need to get you cleaned up and comfortable. You’re going to be in a lot of pain for the next few days.”
We stare at each other, neither wanting to back down. It’s Saint that throws his arms up and unclicks my seatbelt and hauls me out of the cab and over his shoulder. It seems the gentle Saint has evaporated. I don’t even bother to fight him, I stay still as he carries me up to his flat.
He carries me straight into his bathroom and sits me on the edge of the large bath. “Can you take the shirt off, or is it stuck to your back?”
I move my arms and wince as the cotton pulls on my skin. “I think it’s stuck. You don’t need to do this, Saint, I can manage. It’s all my fault anyway. I deserve it to hurt.”
His eyes turn a steely grey, and his lips curl in a snarl. I shrink back, afraid of him when I never have been before. “You may have made a bad decision, Noah, but the blame is on Oscar for you being hurt, for gagging you after you’d used your safe word. He broke too many rules tonight.”
His eyes stay on mine as he reaches for the top of the shirt, silently asking for my permission. I don’t have it in me toargue, so I nod my consent. He slowly pulls my arms out of the sleeves, careful not to let the fabric pull over my back. The next thing he does has me crying, he wets a washcloth and presses it against my back, loosening the fabric, so it eventually comes away easily. His tender actions make it impossible for me to curb the tears. I don’t even care that I’m naked when he picks me back up and carries me to his bedroom.
“Stay still,” he says as he lies me down on my stomach. I watch him disappear, then a cupboard opens and closes. I concentrate on my back, the raw pain has turned into a dull, but very there, throb. Saint comes back in and stands at my side, his eyes on my back, not my face.
“How bad is it? Are there a lot? I lost count, focusing on the fuck up I’d made instead,” I ask, my voice small in the large room.
“I suppose that depends on how many you consider a lot. How long had you been in there before I found you?”
“It felt like a lifetime, but probably only ten minutes. I honestly don’t know.”
“Did he do anything else to you or make you do to him?” His teeth are gritted as his anger towards the arsehole comes back.
“No, he said it was the warm-up, something to make me compliant and learn to be a good sub.”
The anger doesn’t subside, and the longer he stares, the worse I feel. Guilt pours through me, knowing he’s blaming everyone but me for this. “Saint, look at me.” I wait until his eyes meet mine. “This is my fault. I was angry with you. I went there with the intention of finding a Dom that would, what did you say, fuck, fist, and flog? I was stupid, and I’ve paid for it. Now, would you please use the cream you are squeezing to death orlet me get up and go home. Have you got any painkillers, some paracetamol?”
Noah is asleep. The stripes on his back are now bruising, only a couple broke the skin. He’s going to be in a lot of pain for a good few days, but for now, I’ve eased the hurting.
There’s a soft knock on my front door. It will be Royal, so I get up off the edge of the bed and go to let him in.
“How is he?” Royal asks as he comes in.
“Not good. Did you get his clothes and shit? Did you see the video?”
He nods. “It’s not nice. How did he even get in?”
“He joined a few weeks ago. He’s had a couple of visits but hasn’t tried anything.” I was surprised when he shared this, but I hadn’t been much so I’m not sure I would have known.
I walk back to the bedroom. Noah is under the covers but only up to his back, he didn’t want the pressure of the duvet.
Royal follows me and hisses a long, low breath. “Jesus, that nasty. Oscar didn’t take it easy on him. I saw when he said red.”
“Yeah, that’s when the ball gag came out. Oscar admitted it. I don’t know how I stayed calm when really, I wanted to rip his fucking head from his shoulders. He caned him, Royal, there gotta be thirty stripes. It’s gonna hurt like fuck.”
“Has Noah told you why he went there? And why were you there?” Royal steps out of the room, walking towards the kitchen. “Had he planned it?” he asks as I follow him. Royal opens the cupboard for two glasses, then pours two fingers of Jack Daniels into each one.
I take the glass and down half of it in one go. “It’s all my fucking fault. You know he overheard me at the gym and decided to see what being fucked, fisted, and flogged felt like. I don’t know how to help him, how to say sorry to him. That I’m wrong. We belong together, and now, he’s never going to want to step into any club again. And I can’t do that. I love it. I’m a Dom, Royal, it’s in my blood. I crave it, the cries of pleasure from a sub as the leather stings his skin, sweat-soaked skin that glistens with cum. The scent and taste of sex has me hard.”
