Time had changed her.
Three months had passed since that night when Nyx collapsed in front of Velvet Chains, barely clinging to consciousness.
She had been nothing but a ghost of herself lost, broken, and afraid. But now?
Now, she was healing.
Each day, Raphael had been there. Not pushing, not demanding, just guiding. His presence was a steady anchor, grounding her as she rebuilt herself piece by piece.
Therapy had helped, too. Dr. Langley, a renowned trauma specialist, had been patient yet firm, helping Nyx understand that submission didn't have to mean pain. That trust, real trust, was given freely, not coerced.
She still had moments where her past tried to creep in flashes of Master Dom's cruel voice, the phantom sting of punishment that had never been deserved.
But they were just that phantoms.
Shadows of a past she was no longer shackled to.
Here, in Velvet Chains, she had started to live again.
And Raphael?
He was a presence she no longer feared.
She was no longer afraid of his touch. He had never once forced it upon her, never took without permission. Instead, he waited. And when she kissed him first, he had worshiped her for it.
Tonight, however, would be different.
Tonight, she would be tested.
A test that will show if she's moved on or stuck in her past.
—
A Scene Unfolds
The club was alive with its usual sultry energy, the air thick with perfume, the low hum of conversation blending with the slow beat of the music.
Nyx moved confidently now, weaving through the crowd with Raphael by her side.
She belonged here.
It was a feeling she had never known before.
Her eyes drifted to the main stage, where a public scene was taking place. The sight made her pause.
A woman stood bound, wrists secured above her head with crimson silk restraints. Her body was taut, anticipating the next stroke of the flogger.
The Dom wielding it was precise, his movements controlled, calculated. Each hit landed with a sharp snap, leaving delicate red marks along her back.
The submissive shivered, moaning softly, her body melting into the pain.
Nyx's heart pounded.
She had witnessed pain before brutal, cruel pain that tore rather than built.
But this?
This was different.
There was trust here.
There was desire.
A shiver ran down her spine.
She turned to Raphael, her voice softer than she intended.
"Can we… watch?"
His silver eyes studied her for a moment, searching, reading her like an open book. Then, he nodded. "Of course, little one."
Raphael led her to a velvet sofa near the stage, sitting first before pulling her onto his lap.
The position felt natural now.
There was no hesitation, no lingering fear.
She settled against him, her body resting comfortably against the warmth of his chest.
Her attention returned to the stage.
The Dom traced his fingers along the submissive's reddened skin before delivering another slow, deliberate strike.
A moan spilled from her lips, her body arching into the sensation rather than recoiling from it.
Nyx's breath caught.
The way the woman responded the way she gave herself over completely it was beautiful.
Her stomach tightened, heat unfurling deep within her.
She shifted slightly in Raphael's lap.
A firm hand landed on her hip, stilling her movement.
"Are you enjoying the show?" Raphael's voice was low, filled with something she couldn't quite name.
Nyx swallowed, nodding.
But enjoyment wasn't the right word.
Fascination.
Curiosity.
And...
Need.
She exhaled shakily, pressing her thighs together.
Raphael's grip on her hip tightened.
She felt him now the evidence of his own arousal beneath her.
A dangerous game.
She should stop.
She should pull away.
Instead, she moved again.
Grinding.
Just slightly. Just enough to feel the friction between them.
Raphael's fingers dug into her skin. His breath hitched.
"Little one," he warned.
But she wasn't stopping.
She couldn't.
Something inside her had awakened.
Something that had been locked away, buried beneath layers of fear and conditioning.
And he was letting her explore it.
She did it again.
Slower this time. More deliberate.
A low growl rumbled in Raphael's chest. "You're playing with fire."
Nyx shivered.
And then his lips were at her ear, his breath hot against her skin.
"Then grind harder."
A sharp inhale.
A racing heartbeat.
And then...
She obeyed.
Rolling her hips against him, feeling every inch of him beneath her. A soft whimper escaped her lips, muffled by the pounding of her pulse.
Raphael's grip moved to her waist, guiding her. Encouraging her.
"You feel that?" His voice was gravel and silk, teasing yet commanding. "That's you making me hard."
Nyx let out a shaky breath, fingers gripping his shirt.
He wasn't stopping her.
He wasn't forcing her.
He was letting her take control.
A wicked smirk curled his lips as he tightened his grip, slowing her movements to an achingly slow pace.
His voice was a dangerous whisper.
"Do you want more?"
Her heart pounded. She nodded.
Raphael chuckled, brushing a kiss against her ear.
"Then let's take this somewhere more private."
—
The Playroom
The moment they entered his playroom, Raphael wasted no time.
Nyx barely had a moment to register the dim lighting, the sleek furniture, before she was pressed against the door.
But not trapped.
Never trapped.
Raphael's hands were on either side of her head, his body not touching hers yet, but close.
Waiting.
Always waiting.
Her breathing was uneven, lips parted, skin burning with the remnants of their teasing.
"I need you to use your words, little one," Raphael murmured, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Do you want this?"
There was no fear in her now.
Just hunger.
"Yes," she whispered.
A dark smile spread across his face.
"Good girl."
"What are your safe words" Raphael asked again.
"Red for stop, Yellow for slow down, Green for going on" Nyx replied with a small smile.
His lips claimed hers, and she melted into him.
And this time?
There was no hesitation.