Read Online Apt [Running to Love 6] (Siren Publishing Classic) by Allyson Young - Free Book Online Page A

practicing some kind of revenge that women did. Not that Fiona was that kind of woman. He didn’t think. No, he knew. She would take some training, and he hoped he had the patience, but he was going to have her as his submissive, and enough was enough. He turned to Alistair to tell he was out of there, gone to find his woman, but Andrew quite suddenly stood in front of him, offering the single tail.
    All eyes were on him, and Dave felt himself blanch. Holy shit. He knew this was an extreme honor, and if he hadn’t just decided to go and find his future it would be terrific, but…Alistair bent a look on him, and Dave remembered he was a partner now, the details yet to be sorted out, but still a partner. He also remembered that Andrew was sending them business because it was mutually profitable, so he’d better not fuck it up. He’d show his expertise with this little sub and probably be able to pass the aftercare to Andrew, and he’d be gone. Twenty lashes wouldn’t take much time. He would ask her what she’d learned, bring her off with that vibe laid out on the bench to reward her, and the deal would be cemented. Then he’d be gone.
    He asked Andrew for her safe word and then moved to take his place, hefting the whip, ensuring that it was as well made and balanced as his own so that it could become an extension of his hand. It fit properly in his hold, and his muscle memory stepped up to replace his adrenaline rush of leaving this place to go to Fiona. Dave placed the flat of his hand on the small of the sub’s back to alert her to his presence and then stroked down her spine, taking in her somehow familiar scent, unable to resist the texture of her velvet skin, but then yanked his hand back as if he’d been scorched. What the fuck? His cock surged, and Dave swallowed hard against the arousal. He’d been thinking of Fiona, that was it. He somehow had projected his burning, all-encompassing need for her onto this lovely sub. His voice came out harsher than he intended, unrecognizable even to his own ears.
    “Count them.”
    She tensed, then murmured. “Sir.”
    The hairs on the nape of his neck whispered erect to mirror the state of his cock, and Dave ruthlessly choked his libido off. He laid the first stripe without further ado across the fullest part of her buttocks, reveling in her sharp intake of breath.
    Another whisper, just the barest breath. “One.”
    He should be making her sound it out, but damned if he wasn’t worried that hearing her count louder, the inflection in the word telling him of her need, would somehow interfere with his best-laid plans. He hurried to lay the next two on either side of the first and hardly waited for her to choke out the count before applying one to the glorious expanse of her back.
    “Four.”
    Dave’s brain finally caught up with his body. Holy fuck. Holy mother. He felt faint. The room literally swam before his eyes. His senses had recognized her, and his cock had telegraphed the message to his brain, but somehow the blood exchange between those two competing organs had mitigated it. He threw a wild glance at Alistair, who was looking goddamn complacent, like somebody whose plan had just come together. And at Andrew, whose satisfied face he was going to rearrange in the very near future. He pulled himself together and spoke.
    “You’ve added two, sub, and you’ll add more if you don’t speak up.”
    Her little body tensed, and her head in that concealing hood came up. “Dave?”
    “Count, Fiona.”
    Christ, the arousal now came off her in waves, and he could only believe it was because she’d learned it was him. He could smell her essence, and it drew him like the finest of perfume. He quit trying to sort out how this had all come to pass, this well-played little drama in which he, and hopefully Fiona, had been innocent pawns. The next stripe made her arch and cry out, but she counted and then he got into the pacing. He lashed, and she called in response,