Chapter 16
Gideon
S he’s distracting me, trying to hide her feelings from me, but I’m an old hand at this and I know what she’s doing. I shouldn’t have said anything about Gabrielle, shouldn’t have shared that with her, yet I did. And now it’s too late.
With you I feel found…
Fuck, the look in her eyes when she said that.
She was… glowing, her whole soul in her gaze, and she let me see it.
She held nothing back. And all I could think was that it’s been such a long fucking time since I’ve made anyone feel anything beyond physical pleasure.
A long time since I’ve made anyone feel anything beyond grief and pain.
You don’t have to stay lost if you don’t want to be…
Her mouth on mine is hot and desperate, and I know what she’s trying to do.
She said too much and now she’s trying to distract me, and I should let her.
Because she’s starting to feel something for me and that isn’t supposed to happen.
I’ve had subs who did even though I told them I couldn’t offer them anything more— these things can happen no matter how careful you are — and the situation always gets messy and painful in the end.
I don’t want to hurt Odette, and I’m a fucking bastard for liking how I made her feel. For seeing the silver flame of her soul burning in her eyes as she told me I didn’t have to stay lost if I didn’t want to be. And it’s such a beautiful, generous soul, too.
But there can be nothing between us. Not here, not with her. All I want is a sub for the night and that’s all I’ll ever want. I had a wife once and I loved her, but I’m a different man now, a harder man, a colder man. I won’t ever be anyone’s husband or partner again, and I don’t want to be.
So I take her offer of distraction, pulling her hands from my chest and sliding her off my lap. I don’t look at her, yet I can still feel the warmth of her hands against my skin, and it lingers like the heat from a burn.
I go over to the coffee table, looking down at the toys all laid out there.
I’ve been going easy on her so far, so perhaps now it’s time to up the stakes, show her who she’s really dealing with, make her see me for who I am.
Which is not the grieving widower she needs to heal or find, but a cold, dominating bastard who’ll push her unmercifully no matter how softly she looks at me.
That’s a poor reward for what she’s given you.
I ignore that thought. She gave me a great blow job, and now I’m going to blow her fucking mind. That’s not a poor reward. That’s why she’s here.
After a moment’s consideration, I note the lube I left in the box, then pick up the flogger.
First a little light whipping, then I’ll fuck her in the ass.
It won’t be what she’s expecting, and it might be too much for her, but she’s got her safe word.
All she needs to do is say it and all of this will end, and she can leave.
You don’t want it to end, though.
No, I don’t. But it has to. For her sake.
I grit my teeth and turn back to her. She’s sitting on the couch, watching me with big eyes that only get bigger when they see the flogger in my hand.
“Get up and bend over the arm of the couch,” I order bluntly. “Quickly now.”
There’s no hesitation as she slips off the couch, going down to one end of it and laying herself gracefully over the arm. The rounded curve of her ass is in the air, her hair draping over the sofa fabric, her hands braced on the cushions.
I come to stand behind her, studying the arched bow of her body, noting the pink flesh I can see between her thighs and how wet she is.
Giving me that blow job turned her on, and she hasn’t had any relief, yet.
Well, she won’t be getting any relief soon either.
I’ll push her as hard as I can, get her to safe word out, then I’ll let her go.
She’s shivering with anticipation and when I gently trail the leather falls of the flogger over her back and ass, teasing her, she jerks.
She’s so responsive. Finding another sub as honest and open and as beautifully reactive as her is going to be tough. But I’m sure there are plenty of subs out there who are. I just need to find them.
“This is going to hurt,” I tell her. “But I think you can take it.”
I begin slowly and gently, laying light strokes over the curve of her ass, going soft at first. She gasps and jerks at the first strike, but I don’t give her time to process it, I bring the flogger down again and again, the falls hitting the same place, building the pain.
She cries out, her body shaking, her ass getting pinker and pinker.
You can’t punish her for telling you something you didn’t want to hear.
Something in me tenses, but I try to ignore the thought. I’m not punishing her for telling me how I made her feel, that would make me a piss-poor fucking Dom. I’m pushing her, yes, but only to?—
Make her safe word out? That makes you a piss-poor fucking Dom too.
I pause for a moment, ignoring the thought and ignoring, too, the tight feeling in my chest. I need to check her boundaries, that’s all. This is about her, not me, it’s all about her.
Furious with myself and trying not to be, I glance down at her face to check on her. She’s got her cheek pressed to the couch cushion, her head turned to the side, and I catch the sheen of wetness on her pink skin.
Are these tears of pain and pleasure? Or are they from something more? Perhaps from me taking the distraction she offered after her confession? Me not giving her anything in return?
My chest is tight, a thread of self-loathing creeping through me. Fuck, I don’t want her to cry, not over me. I’m not worth anyone’s tears, especially not hers.
“You want to use your safe word?” I ask, my tone rougher than usual.
“No,” she says, her voice a thready whisper that pierces my chest like a fucking arrow.
It’s wrong of me to keep her here. It’s just fucking wrong, especially given what she told me about how I make her feel. Especially when she’s offering the same thing to me.
You don’t have to stay lost…
My chest aches. She shouldn’t be saying such things. She has no idea what she’s offering. She has no idea how many times and ways a heart can break until it’s shattered beyond repair. She knows nothing about anything, so why she should be saying this bullshit to me, I have no idea.
I stare down at her, trying to force away the feelings of anger and self-loathing. Trying to find the focused, hard strength of the Dom. “Don’t fucking lie to me, sub,” I growl.
She turns her head to the side, her cheek on the couch cushions, and her eyes meet mine. They’re dark with arousal and yet there’s pain there too. Physical yes, but it’s more than that. I know it’s more than that, because she’s not looking at the Dom. She’s looking at the man.
“I’m sorry,” she says hoarsely. “I should never have said?—”
“Don’t,” I interrupt, because I can’t let her think it was her mistake. “You don’t need to apologize. You did nothing wrong.”
She blinks, tears sliding down her cheek and dripping onto the couch cushions.
“It’s me who should be sorry,” I add, unable to stop myself. “Because there’s no way out, Odette, not for me. I have to stay lost.”
“No you don’t.” Her gaze is level and I can see a fierce determination burning there, seeing all the way into me. “Not if you don’t want to be.”
I can’t stand the way she’s looking at me. It’s like she can see past all the bullshit, see right into the heart of me.
See past all the lies you tell yourself.
I straighten, shoving the thought aside, gripping the flogger once again.
I bring it down on her backside a couple more times, trying to find my center, trying not to let the coiling, toxic mix of anger and self-loathing in my gut get the better of me.
But I can’t seem to find it. The cold, sharp focus of the Dom keeps slipping out of reach, which is dangerous.
Forcing myself to stand back, I let the flogger fall onto the floor.
She’s panting, little sobs escaping her, but she doesn’t move. Her ass is bright pink, the marks of the flogger standing out sharply against her paler skin, and between her thighs I can see how wet she is.
I don’t know why she’s letting me do this to her. I don’t know why she won’t leave. I can’t give her what she wants and she knows that, and yet she’s still here.
I move to stand beside her, looking down at her once again. She has her eyes closed, her lashes wet with tears, and the tight feeling in my chest tightens even more. “What the fuck are you doing, Odette?” I demand, unable to stop myself. “Say your fucking safe word.”
Her eyes stay closed. “No.”
There’s no give in the word. It’s hard, strong, determined. Just like her.
My jaw aches. The cold stone in my chest, the one that took the place of my heart, nudges its sharp edges against my ribs.
I don’t feel lost with you…
Jesus, what did I do to make her feel like that? Pulled her hair, flogged her, put nipple clamps on her, made her beg. There’s nothing about me that should have made her feel that way. Not one fucking thing.
You should send her away. Now.
I should, especially when I’m feeling like this.
I should be fully in control of myself, because it’s dangerous if I’m not, and yet I can’t bring myself to tell her she should leave.
I need her to do it. I need her to say her safe word, to give me the excuse to send her away.
And it’s ironic that in the space of a few hours, the power balance has slowly tipped in her favor and I’m left with nothing.
Gritting my teeth, I pick the tube of lube out of the box before going back to the couch.
She’s draped over the arm, her pink ass in the air.
I flick the cap off the tube and squeeze some of the cool gel onto my fingers.
Then I slide my hand between her ass cheeks, finding her tight little asshole and easing a finger inside, spreading the lube around.
She jerks as my fingers touch her, then she gasps as my finger slides in and she’s squirming around on the sofa arm, shuddering as I manage to stretch her a little.
“I’m going to fuck your ass, sub,” I say flatly, a current of rough heat in my voice.
“And you’ll take me, won’t you? You’ll take all of me. ”
“Y-Yes, Master,” she says hoarsely, her whole body trembling.
“You can say your safe word.” I work my finger deeper, leaning over the arm so I can watch her face as I do. “You know what it is?”
Her cheeks are scarlet now and wet with tears, but her darkened silver gaze is still blazing. “Yes,” she says thickly. “I remember, Master.”
But she’s not going to say it, is she? I can the determination in her eyes and the certainty. She’s not going to give it to me and I have no one to blame for that but myself. I was the one who demanded her trust and her surrender, and she gave them both to me.
You can’t throw them away as if they mean nothing.
I shove the thought from my head, working her ass with my finger, getting her nice and slippery in preparation. And she shivers and trembles, the sound of her soft moans filling the room.
I should send her away right now, especially since she’s not going to give her safe word, but I’m hard and spreading all the lube around has gotten me even harder. So I’ll take what I want first, get her off a couple of times as a nice reward, and only then will I send her away.
Coward.
A wave of anger crashes through my defenses.
I’m not a coward, fuck that. Sending her away isn’t about me, it’s about her.
She’s not meant for me. She’s meant for something better, some one better.
A younger man who hasn’t been tarnished and broken by loss.
A man more honest with himself than I am, more adept at keeping relationships than I am.
A man who hasn’t burned his whole life to the ground due to grief.
I pull my finger out of her then reach to grip her hips, hauling them back so the soft, hot flesh of her ass is pressing against my groin.
She feels so fucking good. I wanted a whole night to explore her, but after this I’ll send her away.
She won’t like it, she might even fight me, but in the end she’ll thank me.
“Brace yourself, sub,” I say roughly. “I’m going to fuck you now.”