Chapter 12
The Proposition
Ian
“This isn’t working,” I tell Jenna the next morning after an hour of listening to her sloppy playing.
She’s at her breaking point. Her hands are shaking, her lips trembling, and she’s fighting off tears.
I had planned on waiting until Monday to give her the ultimatum, but she’s already where I want her.
That threat of getting fired was the icing on the cake, making her even more desperate and lost than I could have hoped.
But it’s not just that she’s ready; I also can’t bear to wait one more day to break her out of her misery and hold her in my arms.
She turns on the bench, eyes wide and pleading. “No. No. I’ll do better.”
“You’re tired, unfocused, and you still can’t play the rapid notes with the right wrist movement.”
Her hands clutch the edges of the bench, desperation thinning her voice. “I’m sorry. I’ll do better. I promise. I’ll quit my job. I’ll do anything. Just give me another chance. I’ll make it work.”
I suppress a smile and the urge to say, This is already working beautifully.
Keeping my expression serious, I hold her gaze. “Do you still want to do everything it takes to play?”
“Anything,” she says with fervor.
“Then come with me.” I go to the door and hold it open for her.
She casts a nervous glance at me as she steps into the hall and moves aside to let me to lead the way.
Her entire body is teeming with anxiety as I signal for her to go ahead.
Her head makes a little twitch a few times as if she wants to turn and look at me.
Having me follow right on her heel, towering above her, unnerves her. And it makes me hard.
“In here,” I tell her when we reach my office. I push the door open for her, and she freezes when she looks inside and sees Killian in one of the recliners by the tall window.
Pressing a hand to the small of her back, I spur her inside.
“We have a proposition for you,” I say.
“What kind of proposition?” Her voice thins, and she takes a step away from me, hands nervously clinging to each other.
“Go kneel at Killian’s feet and I’ll tell you.” I gesture toward my son, who spreads his legs, making room for her.
She shakes her head, eyes darting between him and me, biting her lips as the trembling gets worse.
“Go on.” I nod at him, and when she still hesitates, I open the door. “Do it, or leave.”
Her eyes glisten with tears as she watches me, probably hoping it’s all just a cruel joke. When I open the door an inch farther, she drops her gaze and pads over to Killian. Two feet away from him, she sinks to her knees.
“Not good enough,” I tell her. When she scoots a little closer, only almost reaching his knees, I add, “All the way, and then turn your face this way.”
She scoots around and backs up until she’s between his legs. The rapid rise and fall of her chest makes me want to go hug her. Or maybe make her kneel at my feet. Or even between us.
Killian grabs a fistful of her hair, making her yelp. “Finally, there’s my little princess.”
“Control yourself,” I demand.
Killian rolls his eyes but releases her hair.
I go to sit in my chair behind the desk, turning toward them as I interlace my hands over my stomach.
“This proposition only comes once, so I want you to listen very carefully, Jenna. Can you do that?”
Sniffling, Jenna makes a quick nod.
“If you quit your job and move in here with us, I’ll continue teaching you and getting you ready for the competition in September.”
Her eyes dart up to me, shocked and worried but also glimmering with careful hope. While I continue, the concern takes over, tightening her brows and making her hands jitter.
“When you live under my roof, you’ll abide by my rules. You’ll have to pay rent, but instead of a monetary contribution, you may pay in terms of service.”
“What kind of service?” she asks in a small voice.
I lower my chin to imbue my message with seriousness. “Any kind of service we may ask for.”
Shaking her head, she lifts a hand to cover her mouth.
“That’s right, princess, anything,” Killian says, about to reach for her throat, but stopping at my warning look.
Her shoulders draw up to her ears, and the shaking of her head becomes so bad I think she’s about to have a panic attack.
“There are boundaries,” I say, suppressing the urge to go to her.
As much as I want to hold her, she’ll have to get used to the idea of Killian being part of this as well, or it won’t work.
I’m not going to let him unleash his ruthless sadism on her from the start, but she has to show us she can give in to him.
If I’ve read her right, she can. At least, if we ease her into it.
“No blood or permanent scars,” I explain. “No excrement. And nothing so degrading that you can’t come back from it.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It means that we will push you, but we won’t break you beyond repair.”
She keeps shaking her head. “I-I can’t. There’s no… There’s just no way.”
“Are you sure?” I press.
Killian casts me a questioning look, and I give him a go-ahead nod, knowing what he means.
With a bit more eagerness than I’d like, he slips his hand onto her neck. She yelps, jumping like a scared little rabbit.
Carefully, I mouth to him. This is the crucial moment. She might be desperate to play the piano again, but if Killian triggers a trauma response in her, there’s nothing we can do to make her agree. We need to remind her that she liked what he did to her.
Slowly, he moves his hand to the front, wrapping it around her throat in a snug fit that forces her head back. Her fingers tap wildly at her thighs, and she squeezes her eyes shut to avoid eye contact. She’s about to close in on herself, but I won’t let her.
“Look at him,” I demand in a sharp tone.
She draws a shuddery breath, struggling to obey, but her natural submissive instincts kick in—the work I’ve done these past two weeks wins out.
I’ve been conditioning her, rewarding her with my touch when she obeyed a direct order.
Seeing how beautifully it has worked as she slowly peels her eyes open makes me smile.
“He’s not going to hurt you. He’s just going to hold you like that while I talk. So just keep watching him and listen to my voice. Can you do that?”
She gives the tiniest nod against his hand, her nostrils flaring with the speed of her rapid breaths.
“When Killian took you upstairs five years ago, you enjoyed what he did to you.”
“I didn’t,” she blurts.
“You did. I saw the video.”
“No,” she gasps.
Killian lifts his hand to stroke her cheek, and her shoulders soften a little. I’m happy to see that he’s taken some of my advice to heart.
“You asked him to gag you. And from what I saw, that wasn’t a scared girl being pressured into asking. You wanted him to fill your mouth.”
“I didn’t,” she protests again.
Killian moves his hand closer to her mouth, slowly stroking his knuckles over her lips. Her breathing becomes heavier as he drags them back and forth, and I can’t help but marvel a little. Her submission is stronger than her trauma. Despite what he did to her, she’s still attracted to him.
Positioning two fingers against her lips, Killian casts me another silent question. I agree with a nod, and he pushes to gain entrance. Jenna gives a slight shake of her head but parts her lips.
“Such a good little slut,” he croons, sliding his fingers past her lips, into her mouth.
She groans around the intrusion, squeezing her eyes shut as if it could block out the feeling, but her body goes pliant, nonetheless.
I allow her to keep her eyes shut for a while. She doesn’t seem to be closing in on herself this time. Watching him while he invades her mouth is simply overwhelming.
Killian hums as he drags his fingers in and out a few times. “I’ve been waiting for this for so long.”
Her shoulders shudder at those words, and her head falls back, just a smidgen farther. It’s like she’s been waiting too; she just doesn’t want to admit it.
When he pulls out and releases her throat, her eyes are glazed.
“Did you like that?” I ask.
Her attention snaps to me, like she had forgotten I was here. Her mouth forms an ‘O,’ about to deny her desire.
Before she can give voice to the lie, I warn, “Don’t ever lie to me, Jenna. That’s rule number one. Do you understand?”
She gives a quick nod.
“Now, let’s try again. Did you like what Killian just did to you?”
She bites her lips and closes her eyes. Then she gives the tiniest nod.
“Say it,” I demand.
Her lips quiver as she says in a soft, vulnerable voice that goes straight to my dick, “I liked it.”
“Oh yes, you did.” Killian grabs her throat again, and a tear drips from her eyes.
“He’ll use you like that again,” I say. “And more. But instead of sending you away, he’ll send you down to me afterward.”
“What then?” she asks, breathing hard as she struggles to hold back the tears glistening in her eyes.
“I’ll take care of you and let you sleep in my bed.”
She watches me for a minute, and longing deepens her vulnerable gaze. After two weeks of teasing her with my touch, giving her just enough to hint at how good it could be, she’s come to crave it more than anything. And I’ve come to crave her responsive body more than I’ve craved anything for years.