The rhythm of the flogger against her skin had become hypnotic, each strike building layers of sensation that rippled through Samantha's body like waves against the shore.
She could feel herself slipping deeper into that familiar headspace where nothing existed beyond the present moment—no thoughts of councils or sanctuaries or even their daughter sleeping safely elsewhere in the building.
There was only Marcus's commanding presence, Callum's careful attention to her responses, and the delicious anticipation of what came next.
Then, without warning, the strikes stopped.
The sudden absence of sensation was almost jarring, leaving her skin tingling and hypersensitive, every nerve ending alert and waiting.
She could hear the soft whisper of the flogger being set aside, followed by the rustle of movement as positions shifted around her.
"How is she responding?" Marcus's voice cut through the silence, pitched low but carrying clearly in the intimate space.
