Cowboy Casanova - Lorelei James [120]
“Yes. Sir. Please, Sir.”
“How many?” he murmured to Brian.
“Twenty-three,” Brian whispered back. “You choose the spots. If she stops counting then you stop.”
“Agreed.” Ben walked forward and slowly ran the whip handle down Zoe’s spine and the crack of her ass. Her whole body jerked, the chains rattled and she strained to look over her shoulder at him.
When he moved, her head tried to follow his movement.
“You oughten be watchin’ me, Zoe. You oughta be focused on how you’re gonna breathe through the first blow. ’Cause I guarantee it’s gonna hurt.”
The crowd murmured behind them.
“Blindfold her.”
Zoe gasped and turned to glare at Ben. “What? No, you can’t—”
Ben grabbed her jaw, tilting her face up. “I most certainly can, because you’re the one trussed up in chains, not me. And if you don’t show me respect, since this is now my scene? When I’ve deemed that you are done with the pain portion? I won’t let Brian touch you. At all. All you’ll feel is pain. Nothin’ else. So choose.”
She lowered her eyes. “I apologize for my behavior, Sir.”
Brian tied on the blindfold.
At the first whip crack, the crowd moved back.
“Brian. Distract her.”
As soon as Brian’s lips touched hers, Zoe relaxed. She arched into him, making soft noises as he broke the kiss.
“Count. Starting from one.” Ben placed the first blow on the fleshy part of Zoe’s right shoulder.
“One. Thank you, Sir.”
Ben kept moving, walking closer, letting Brian offer soothing words and caresses as he marked her skin with random stinging blows. He concentrated the hits on her buttocks and the backs of her thighs, remembering those as her hot spots. But he felt no stirring of arousal. No need to caress her skin or take her to the next level. He felt…tired. Maybe a little used. More than ready to be done with this night.
At Zoe’s full body slump, he let his whip fall to the side. Brian moved in and gave his sub what she needed.
The crowd parted for him, but all eyes returned to the action at the front.
Ben wanted a shot of whiskey and the comfort of his own bed. He cut down the hallway when a hand landed on his shoulder, jerking him to a stop. He whirled around and his cousin Dalton was in his face, wearing a look of disgust.
“What the fuck was that I just saw, Bennett?”
“Dalton?” Ben glanced at the crowd to see if a monitor was close by. “How did you get in here?”
“I dropped your name at the door. They let me in with a guest pass.”
He’d asked for that pass for Ainsley. The fact she’d never use it made him lash out. “Go away. I ain’t in the mood to deal with you right now.” Ben sidestepped him.
But Dalton anticipated the move. “What are you in the mood for? Beating on another helpless woman? With a fucking bullwhip, for Christsake?”
“Keep your goddamn voice down.”
“The fuck I will. I want some fuckin’ answers on why you get off whipping women as they cry out for you to stop hitting them! I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw you with that older couple. I looked in the window and watched you beat her. And then I saw you immediately jump at the chance to beat another chick. Jesus. What did either of those women do to you?”
Dalton was more muscle bound, but Ben had more experience dealing with hotheads, so he grabbed his cousin by his shirt and shoved him into room three.
Ben would’ve welcomed Dalton taking a swing at him. But Dalton paced. Muttered to himself. Ben had wondered how he’d handle it if this day came. How he’d explain. If he even wanted to try.
Then Dalton invaded his space. “How long have you been comin’ to this place?”
“I helped start this club six years ago.”
“So how many women have you tortured and raped during that time?”
Ben shoved Dalton and held the whip handle against his throat. “Back the fuck off, Dalton. You don’t have the first fuckin’ clue what you’re talking about. You’re just flapping your gums, spouting bullshit and proving your ignorance.”
“I know what I saw.”
“Do you? If what I was doing was so unwanted or wrong, then why the hell didn’t the woman’s husband stop me? Then why didn’t any one of the fifty