Page 115 of The Jaded Notes

“Please, sir. I need you to break me.”

The next strike is sharp enough to pull a cry from my throat, and something cracks open inside me. All the emotions I’ve been holding back—the grief over Lehlani Rose, the pressure of success, and the fear that I’m not enough and unlovable—all come pouring out.

“That’s it.” Jax’s voice is rough with emotion. “Let it all go. I’ve got you.”

He continues until I’m weak and can barely stand. I sob as the endorphins crash over me in waves, my body trembling against the restraints.

But instead of being broken, I’m free. Cleansed. Like all the poison I've been carrying has finally been purged.

Jax is beside me immediately, releasing the restraints and gathering me into his arms. His hands are gentle as he checks the marks on me, pressing soft kisses to my shoulders.

“You did so well, Livianna. I’m so proud of you.”

I curl into him, still floating on the aftermath, lighter than I have been in months.

“Thank you.” I peek up at him. “I feel...empty in the best way.”

“That’s the point.” He strokes my hair and holds me close. “Sometimes we need to break a little to rebuild stronger.”

As he tends to me with cool cloths, salve, and gentle touches, I realize this is more than just physical release. This is healing. This is love, even if neither of us has been brave enough to name it yet.

“Jax?”

“Mmm?”

“I love who I am when I’m with you.”

His arms tighten around me. “You’re always perfect, Livianna. I just help you remember.”

And as much as I want to believe this can last forever, something deep inside me has me bracing for my downfall.

After all, I’m not known for being able to keep the man I love all to myself.

Chapter Twenty-Five

JAXON/JAX

Then

Saving A Submissive & Grave Decisions

Anyone can strike. Anyone can take. But it’s what you do when the cuffs come off that shows who you really are.

My touch is gentle as I assess the marks across Livianna’s backside. The welts are perfect, raised but not broken, red but not bleeding.

She responded beautifully, and hopefully the release she found was exactly what she needed. I wrap her in a blanket.

Her skin is damp with sweat, and her body is still trembling from the flood of chemicals I knew would hit her harder than most. She was holding on to too much.

Once I’ve guided her to the bed, I run a cool cloth down her back and over the marks blooming like red roses beneath her skin. I’m in awe of her.

She bursts into tears. Not the quiet kind. Not a fragile slip of a tear down the cheek. These come hard and messy, ripping straight from her chest like the kind she’s been swallowing for years.

I kiss her shoulders, stroke her hair with slow fingers, and hold her tighter. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

She clings to me like I’m the only thing tethering her to the earth, sobbing into my chest. My jaw flexes against the surge of protectiveness that roars through me.

This isn’t weakness. It’s a release. But fuck if it doesn’t tear me open. She curls into herself despite my arms around her, and I recognize the signs immediately.