Bryce looked towards the cross.
“Help me set this up.”
A few minutes later it stood on the stage.
Elara stepped up to it while the others brought their drinks closer and settled onto the pews. Bryce fastened the leather cuffs around her wrists, her arms stretched above her head as she faced into the cross. She shifted her weight once, testing the position, then leaned into it.
The murmur behind her gradually faded.
Elara didn’t turn. She knew they were there.
She found Bryce instead.
He stood behind her with the rose-tipped cat in his right hand, the braided leather strands hanging loose.
She smirked over her shoulder. Deliberate. A tilt of her chin that said is that all you’ve got?
Something flickered in his grey-blue eyes.
The first flick landed across her outer thigh with a light, teasing sting.
She held his gaze.
The smirk stayed.
Bryce flicked the cat again, catching the inside of her other thigh. The rose-tipped ends whispered against her skin and pulled away.
“You’re warming up,” she said. “Is that all you’ve got?”
Someone behind her drew a breath.
Bryce didn’t answer.
The next stroke landed harder across the curve of her arse.
Her breath caught.
The smirk remained, but Bryce had seen the reaction.
He waited, letting the sting settle before the cat moved again.
This time it crossed the backs of her thighs.
Elara gasped and leaned more firmly into the cross.
Another followed across her arse.
Heat began gathering beneath her skin, each strike lingering long enough to overlap the one before it.
Bryce moved from one side to the other, never leaving the broad flesh of her arse and thighs.
The next strike made her fingers tighten around the cuffs.
The one after it pulled a low sound from her before she could swallow it.
The smirk had disappeared.
Bryce stopped close behind her.
“Still good?”
“Yes.”
He waited.
Elara looked back at him.
“Don’t fucking stop.”
The cat came down again.
The strokes built slowly.
Not harder every time. Not predictable.
A lighter sweep across her thighs, then something sharper across her arse. A pause long enough for her breathing to settle before the next one arrived.
At first Elara followed every strike.
The lift of Bryce’s arm.
The hiss of leather.
The flash of heat.
She knew exactly where each one landed.
Then she began waiting for the sound instead.
Her shoulders loosened against the cross. Her grip changed. The little movement she had made after every strike became smaller.
Bryce watched her.
The cat landed hard across both cheeks.
Elara cried out.
He waited.
Her head stayed bowed for a few seconds before she looked back at him.
There was no challenge in her face now.
Bryce lowered the cat.
Elara watched him put it aside and reach for the cane.
Her breath caught.
He saw that too.
She gave him the faintest smile.
“Come on.”
The first stroke snapped across the fleshy part of her arse.
Elara jerked against the cross and sucked air through her teeth.
Bryce let the heat settle.
The next landed lower, across the backs of her thighs.
Her gasp came immediately.
Another pause.
Another stroke.
Elara stopped looking back after that.
Her forehead rested against the timber. Her breathing deepened, then slowed again.
Bryce gave her time between each one.
The cane cracked across her arse.
Her body tightened.
Then relaxed.
Another across her thighs.
A quieter sound this time.
Bryce stepped closer.
“Elara.”
She lifted her head.
Her eyes found him over her shoulder, but not as quickly as before.
“You with me?”
“Yes.”
He stayed there another moment.
She looked at the cane in his hand.
“Keep going.”
Bryce stepped back.
The next strike drew a broken moan from her.
Another followed after the heat had begun to fade.
Elara shuddered, then settled into the cross again.
The room behind her had become very quiet.
Bryce lowered the cane.
Elara stayed where she was.
Her arms remained stretched overhead, but the tension had gone from them. Her breathing was slow and deep, her body resting into the cross rather than fighting for position.
Bryce stepped close and put his hands on her hips.
She reacted to the touch, but slowly.
“Elara.”
Her head turned.
His face took a moment to catch her attention.
There.
A faint smile.
Bryce set the cane aside.
His hands moved over her thighs and across the heat he had left behind. Elara shivered beneath his palms.
The sounds behind her seemed farther away now.
Someone shifted on a pew.
A glass touched timber.
She heard both without turning towards either.
Bryce ran his hands up her sides.
Her eyes closed.
“Still with me?”
“Yes.”
The word was soft.
His hands reached her breasts.
Elara drew a shaky breath and pressed herself more firmly against the cross.
Bryce kissed the side of her neck.
She tipped her head enough to give him room.
His hand travelled down her stomach and between her thighs.
Elara gasped.
Her hips moved immediately, seeking more, but everything else about her remained strangely loose.
Bryce touched her slowly.
Her breathing changed again.
The heat from the impact was still everywhere—arse, thighs, the deep throb beneath her skin—but it no longer seemed separate from what his hand was doing.
It all ran together.
“Elara.”
Her eyes opened.
Bryce was in front of her now.
She stared at him for a moment before recognition settled properly.
He smiled.
She smiled back.
When his hand moved away, a small frown appeared.
“Bastard.”
“There you are.”
Her laugh barely made a sound.
Bryce stepped closer.
“I want to fuck you.”
Elara looked at him.
The answer came after a beat.
“Then do it.”
Bryce moved behind her again.
His hands settled at her hips.
Elara felt him press against her, then push inside.
Her breath left her in a long gasp.
He stayed still for a moment.
She shifted against him.
“Bryce.”
He pulled back slowly and pushed into her again.
Elara’s head dropped forward against the cross.
Bryce built the rhythm gradually.
The first few movements she followed.
Then she stopped.
There was Bryce behind her. The cuffs above her. Heat across her arse and thighs. The cross beneath her hands.
Everything else drifted further away.
Bryce said her name.
She heard him.
It took effort to lift her head.
He moved around enough for her to see him.
“Stay with me.”
She nodded.
His hand touched her face.
Elara leaned into it.
Then he was behind her again, moving inside her, his hands steady at her hips.
The sounds she made came without thought now.
Somewhere behind them Holly said something.
Elara didn’t catch it.
Didn’t try.
Bryce’s pace increased.
Her legs began to shake.
“Elara.”
She turned her head.
His eyes were there.
That was enough.
He drove into her again and the orgasm rose through everything else—the lingering impact, the restraint, his hands, his cock—until she couldn’t separate one sensation from another.
She cried out.
Her knees softened.
The cross took the movement while Bryce held her hips.
He stayed close as the tremors moved through her.
Elara opened her eyes.
For a moment she looked past him.
Then her gaze came back.
Bryce touched her cheek.
“I’ve got you.”
She nodded.
Her head rested against the timber again.
Nobody behind them spoke.
Bryce waited until her breathing began to settle before moving away.
Elara remained against the cross, loose and heavy, eyes half closed.
He stayed beside her.
Only when she looked at him again did he reach for the first buckle.