Page 7 of Crave Me
“I know.” Stunned at the quietness in the room, I whipped around.
Gabby hurried toward me. She was the slave to Dylan, the club owner. In her hands, she held a thick, gray blanket. “I’m so sorry, sir,” she said, her voice quick and hoarse. “I’m so sorry this happened. Everything was just fine a few moments ago. Dylan and Zeke have that asshole contained.”
“They better,” I growled. “And I want a fucking turn at him before he’s let loose.”
It was clear to anyone in the room Chloe didn’t want this, not to be lashed until she was bleeding. How could no one have stopped it in time? The major requirements of BDSM and playtime were having it be safe, sane, and consensual. Dylan prided himself on running a club firm on rules and expectations. All members went through background checks, whether Dom or sub, and instances like this never happened.
At least, they hadn’t before.
“Come here,” I whispered to Chloe. She sobbed again, holding onto the wooden cross with her hands. Gently, I lifted her braided hair from her back before it could get stuck on her sweat or in one of her bloodied, caned lashes, and draped it over her shoulder.
I ran my hand along her shoulder, fury seething inside me. She needed medical attention and care. Carefully draping the blanket over her shoulders, another sob poured from her. I turned her gently until her head collapsed against my chest and her knees buckled.
She was in my arms, and I was cradling her, as she continued to cry. “Be still, Chloe. I’ve got you. I’ll take care of you.”
