Chapter 8
EIGHT
DOMHNALL
We've settled into bed for the night after what's become the usual routine with Anna: dinner, and then quiet conversation, with her usually tucked on my lap. I crave the sense of peace that settles over me when I'm with her.
I'm almost asleep, arm draped over her soft waist, when the bed shifts, and I know before my eyes even open—Mads.
Sure enough, Mads flips in my arms, a flash of movement. "Hi, baby, it's me. Have a long day?"
I tense for a beat before forcing my body to relax. I've been trying not to do that, to not make her feel like I'm pushing her away.
"Mads. Hi." I squeeze her waist, a reflex and silent assurance. I don't reject you. But I don't know how to hold you without breaking... everything.
She notices, of course. She always notices. And just as quick, she yanks off the silk nightie Anna wore to bed, the fabric whispering away in the dark.
Then she's pressing against me, her bare skin like fire against my own. A leg hitches over my waist. My cock hardens before I can stop it, a traitor to the constant battle I wage against myself.
Anna says she wants this. She says it's okay for me to take what's mine. That it's okay for me to take Mads. She looks at me with those calm, knowing eyes and tells me I don't have to choose—she accepts all of herself and wants me to do the same.
So why am I still fighting it?
Because the truth is, I am still pushing Mads away. Not for Anna's sake. Not anymore. Now, I'm my own prison guard, locked in a cage of my own making.
It feels like giving in means losing control.
My hands find her thighs, fingers digging in. She gasps, her breath stuttering, and the sound is pure sin. But before she can go further, before I let myself sink into this, I slide her leg back off me to put space between us.
She huffs in frustration. "Why can't you give in?" Her nails drag lightly down my thighs, teasing, tempting. "You waited so long to have me. Now you've got me. What are you fighting against?"
Myself. The darkest parts of me. The ones I swore I'd never let loose again.
Before she came back into my life, I'd stopped questioning why I was like this. Why I could only get the most satisfying pleasure when I was causing someone else pain. Only when they wanted it, of course, but still.
The truth is, I've been trying so hard to take it gentle with Anna at night, only to find it wasn't Anna at all. It was satisfying, in its way, because it was her. And I'd rather drive a screwdriver through my own eyeball than hurt her.
But I crave her. I crave this. And that hunger has been clawing at me for too long without me letting my beast out of his cage.
I exhale and roll onto my back, covering my face with my forearm. "I'm just trying to figure out what's right."
"What's right?" Mads lets out a sharp laugh. "What about what you need? And what I fucking need?" She yanks the sheet up over herself, pulling away from me. "Or do you not want me anymore?"
My stomach clenches. "You know I do."
She turns toward me, those wide, knowing eyes scanning my face. "You either want me, or you don't," she continues. "It's your body. Do with it what you want." She starts to pull away again.
My hand snaps around her wrist, firm but not unkind. I tug her back. "You know that's not true."
She shivers. I feel it in my grip and in the way her breath catches.
"I want you to be my wife, Madison," I say, my voice rough, worn. "If I had it my way, you already would be. My body is yours." I exhale, long and slow. "Look, I know this is complicated."
"It's not, really. It's not." She laughs, but it's bitter and raw. "It's the easiest thing in the world."
Then she moves faster than I expect, yanking me forward as she slides to her knees beside the bed. I nearly stumble but catch myself as I climb out of bed, looking down at her as she kneels at my feet.
"I'm still your good kitty," she purrs, nuzzling against my knees. "Don't you remember how we used to play?"
My breathing hitches.
"When do you get to let the darkness out, Donny?" she whispers. "You pretend it's not still inside of you, but I know it is."
I clench my jaw.
"You've spent so many years of your life as a sadist," she continues, softer now. "And now you just pretend it's gone?"
My jaw clenches as I glance away. But she's relentless. She always is.
"Why are you lying to both of us?" she whispers. "What's going to happen when you can't bury it any longer?"
Then she leans in and presses her face against my groin, nipping at my balls through my boxers.
A dare.
My hand drops to her throat. An instinct I can't suppress. A growl rumbles deep in my chest.
Her lips part, and she chuckles, her breath warm against my skin. "There he is."
"Hands and knees," I growl.
She moves instantly, without hesitation.
For a second, my hand at her throat disappears. I step back. This is a test. A choice. But she just stays there, perfectly on her hands and knees.
So I reach into the nightstand, fingers finding the familiar leather of her collar. The one I had made just for her, with the diamond in the center.
How long have I been holding on to this? How long have I been waiting for this moment? Because I have been waiting for it, haven't I? Without even letting myself admit it.
I kneel, wrapping the collar around her throat, fastening it in place. She shudders under my touch, a tremor running through her entire body.
I don't want to hurt her. I don't want to break her. But she's right about one thing—I can't keep pretending. I can't keep shoving this part of myself away.
Anna wants me to be whole. She says she wants me to have this. She says Mads needs this just as much as I do.
And yet, I still hesitate, my hands trembling with the weight of it.
"Once I start, I won't stop. I won't hold back."
She tilts her head up at me, eyes gleaming. "You want to make me cry pretty tears. You always did."
I don't deny it. I can't. It just never made me hate myself before. I love her. So, how can I want to hurt her? That's fucked up. Is this something she really wants, or is this just Mads trying to manipulate me in some way? Is she trying to hurt Anna through this somehow?
"I don't want to hurt you," I lie even as I tug her forward by the leash attached to her collar.
She crawls easily beside me, occasionally nuzzling my knees.
"Oh, Donny," she murmurs, seeing through me like always. "Yes, you do."
My breath stills.
She pauses, craning her neck to look up at me. "And I want you to make me feel something."
I stop in the hallway. She stops with me.
"Do you?" My grip on the leash tightens. "Do you even feel emotions?" I don't mean for it to come out cruel.
She starts moving down the hallway again, and I can tell she's genuinely considering my question. Part of me hopes that inquiring about anything emotional will have her instantly switching back to Anna so we can just go back to sleep and forget all this nonsense.
But for once, Madison allows the silence, finally letting out a little sigh. "I know what love for you feels like," she answers. "But I'm not sure I ever feel anything else."
She lifts her head to meet my eyes again.
"And I know that pain lets me feel like I'm at least alive."
I swallow hard.
"It makes me feel real," she continues. "I want to feel real with you, Donny. I need to."
My grip on the leash tightens.
"If you won't fuck me," she says finally, "at least give me this."
My ragged breath is the only staggered sound in the hallway.
"I can give you both," I finally say, low.
I feel her shiver through the leash.
"Then we can both get what we need," she whispers. "Because we're perfect for each other."
I grunt low in my throat, then open the door that rarely gets to see any light in this new house I bought for my would-be wife.
Not another bedroom.
Not the primary suite.
The other room.
The dungeon.
It's not in the basement in this house, in case there were any bad memories left over, and I made it bright in here instead of dark.
With one flick of a light switch, the gray walls are lit with warm, yellow glowing sconces at intervals all along the wall, highlighting the equipment like works of art.
My stomach clenches, having Madison here with me, collared.
"Has Anna seen it yet?" she asks.
But I won't play that game.
She clicks her teeth at me. "So protective."
When I glance down, she's looking up at me again. "But I don't want to be protected tonight. I want you to hurt me."
I feel myself frown. She's so beautiful and so vulnerable there on the ground. I can't be the completely cold, sadistic bastard I once was. I see that now.
Which, again, she must read on my face because I hear her exhale. "Wow. We really have changed you, haven't we?"
"At least make me cry," she amends, voice softer. "Loving you hurts too much without the pain to balance it out."
My jaw clenches. She's the only person in the world who makes me feel so vulnerable and can call me out on my shit. But maybe it's only fair. For once, she's baring herself to me. Wasn't that what always made me fall for her? Because, as good a liar as she is, I believe her right now.
The next words out of her mouth only cement all the reasons I love her.
"Without some bitter to balance the sweet," she whispers, "it starts to not feel real."
She searches my face. "But you already know that, don't you?"
I swallow hard and nod. I do.
My eyes lock on her dark ones, and like always, I feel the arcing energy spark between us.
I reach down and cup her jaw—
But not sweetly.
My voice is husky, thick with promise.
"Stand," I command. "Hands above your head."
She rises in one fluid motion, and I quickly lock her wrists in the hanging cuffs I had installed on the ceiling in the center of the room.
She has to go up on her tiptoes to have any contact with the floor, and her eyes go bright as she drops her head back, giggling and lifting her legs off the floor.
So that she's dangling completely from the ceiling.
My ready sacrifice.