of guilt presses down upon my chest and I suck in a ragged breath. I hate it. I hate it even more because I know it’s true. I wouldn’t be here if Danny hadn’t saved me. For a time, he made me forget the terrible loss I suffered. He made me feel like I’d repented in a way.
The sound of Danny moving again breaks me out of my preoccupation. I almost shake my head and tell him I can’t. No. Not again. I don’t think I can take anymore. I stay half-slouched. I don’t have the energy to stand up straight. I just can’t.
“Raise your ass,” I hear Danny’s deep voice command behind me. Goosebumps rise on my thighs as I tremble at the anger lacing his words. I want to tell him no. I want to tell him that I can’t do this anymore. But the words stick in my throat when I try to speak them. He has my best intentions at heart. He did in the beginning, and this must be my fault. I’m the one holding back. I’m not well, and he knows it.
I try to rise and straighten my body, my legs wobbling like Jello. It’s a chore to arch my back. I manage, but it’s all I can do to keep myself in position. I weakly grip the chains that are holding me up, my limbs completely covered in sweat, my heart racing so fast that the room spins around me. He saved me. He saved me. He saved me, I chant over and over in my mind, mentally preparing myself for this. But the blow never comes. Suddenly I'm being released from the chains, Danny appearing at my side and jerking my cuffs loose. I gasp as he gently lowers me to the floor, hitting the plush carpet with a thud. My hands immediately go to my wrists. There are deep red indentations from when I strained against them, but they’re not as bad as I thought. They still hurt like hell though. I look up, taking in my surroundings, my breathing ragged. We’re in one of Club X’s private rooms, one of Danny’s favorites. It’s absolute luxury, with a king-size bed in the middle of the room adorned with grey and white silk bedding, and ultra-plush pillows. A large canopy frames the sides with gossamer white curtains tied back against each post.
The walls match the colors of the bedding, grey and white, and have intricate designs, adding that much more luxury in the fine details. The floor is covered with thick, soft white carpet and the matching furniture is chic and contemporary, with a large loveseat at the foot of the bed and an oversized chair near the granite fireplace.
Then there are the toys.
A delicate glass china cabinet sits on the left side of the room, filled with whips, riding crops, and other devices. Nearby, there is a grey rack with white shackles.
And above me is the Saint Andrew's Cross that chained me to the wall. Plus, Danny.
His gaze holds nothing but disappointment. I look back at him, unable to control the anxiety I feel along with the pain. Although I’m naked, bared before him, he’s dressed in grey dress pants and a white dress shirt that’s unbuttoned at the chest, his dark blond hair adorned by his cold piercing hazel eyes. “What’s wrong?” I dare ask, my voice sounding like a small, scared child’s. And I truly am scared. I don’t know what to think anymore.
“You,” he says simply. “You’re not behaving. You’re making this harder than it has to be.”
“Sir, I-”
“I only want to help you. I know you need this. You aren’t well, Arianna.”
“I- I-,” I protest, trying to put some strength in my words, but failing. He's right. I’m not okay, but I just don’t know if this is the answer.
“You don’t trust me as a Master. I’ve done so much for you.” I feel tears form in my eyes at his words. “Danny please, it’s not like that. It’s just…”
Danny leans forward, putting his face close to mine. The hurt in his expression is nothing compared to the anger in his blazing eyes. “It’s just what?” he asks.
Tell him. He needs to know.
A lump forms in my throat, but I manage to mumble, “I feel like this isn’t working anymore and it hurts, but there’s no… there’s nothing but pain. I didn’t tell you because I don’t want to upset you.”
“It’s only because you aren’t trusting me.”