Chapter 17
MASON
“You don’t need to be back on the boat until Monday.
Stay here with me.” I hear the words drop from my lips, and I immediately want to take them back.
Only the ingrained poker face, which I perfected before I took my first step, keeps my expression neutral, even as my inner voice snarls, What the fuck is wrong with you ?
Her face, fresh and make-up free from the shower we took after our sweaty session in the kitchen, twists with indecision. Ninety-five per cent of me hopes she says no. That insane five per cent leans forward eagerly, awaiting her answer.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea. I have a lot of work to do before Monday. Besides, I don’t have a toothbrush, or a change of clothes.”
I listen to the words, and I want to laugh at the pathetic excuses. The cruel freak inside wants to do just that. It wants to taunt, jibe. It doesn’t like the idea of her no . Hell, it rejects the idea of her leaving, period.
I silence the freak, say nothing and just watch her.
She stops eating the grilled turbot I had delivered and puts her fork down. “Why do you do that?”
“What do you mean?”
A flash of irritation crosses her face. “You know what I mean. Those silences .”
“What silences?” I let the taunt monster out a little, and I feel a touch juvenile, but what the hell…
“Don’t fuck with me, Mason?—”
Her eyes widen at the slip, and another dark, cruel feeling curls through me.
Silence and the expectation of retribution pulses in the air.
She licks her lips and stares at me across the breakfast bar.
“Dammit, you can’t drive me to the point of exasperation and then—” She stops and blinks those incredible eyes.
“Are you going to give me a pass?” she asks.
“No.”
Her face twists. “Mason?—”
“No.”
She worries her lip, then straightens her shoulders. “You know what… I’m a grown-ass woman. I don’t have to take this shit punishment.”
“But you will.”
“Even if it tips the balance of my staying here to a no rather than a yes?”
“I won’t be negotiated with. Not when it comes to this.”
“Why is it so important to you?”
“Because outside of the bedroom, you’re better than crude words.”
She studies me for a few seconds, although she knows by now that I won’t change my mind. She’s a quick study like that. My cock still throbs from having her go down on me in the bathroom. She learned very quickly what pleases me and gave double what I demanded.
Three orgasms in three hours, and I’m still nowhere near ready to call it a night. Quite the opposite. I want to pound her, hard and relentlessly, until one of us breaks.
Slowly, she stands and walks round to my side.
She’s wearing my T-shirt, which covers her from neck to knee, but she’s naked underneath.
My gaze stays on her face, and I read anger in her eyes.
But there’s also anticipation. I see it in the flush of her cheeks, her soft pants and the tiny twitches in her fingers.
I smile inwardly. “You do enjoy being spanked.”
Her mouth twists. “Um, that would be a definite no to that, sir.”
My breath strangles in my lungs, but I maintain my expression and pat the surface of the counter next to my plate.
She pulls the T-shirt over her head and slides onto the cold granite top. The chill makes her nipples pucker, and my mouth waters at the sight. The edge of my hunger is as feral and insane as ever, and the urge to rip into her overwhelms me.
I stay seated as she curls her knees beneath her and positions herself on all fours, her eyes on mine and her mouth open on a noiseless pant.
My heart picks up its beat and races. Thick, pulsing blood rushes through my veins, sending a roar to my head.
Tingles jerk through my fingers in anticipation of contact with her firm, supple flesh.
My cock doesn’t seem to care that it’s in danger of falling off from overuse. It’s eager and hard and rearing to go.
The stool slides back as I rise and smooth my hand down her soft, graceful back.
Her skin feels like warm silk and when she trembles beneath my touch, I swallow against the pressure that climbs into my head.
“You take my breath away. You’re so strong, so fierce.
” My fingers slowly trace her spine, testing the ridges down to the small of her back.
“But you’re also so fragile. Breakable.”
She tenses and I blink, pull myself back from the edge. “Mason?”
I shake my head to clear it, then slide my hand to her ass. “Let’s agree on something, okay?”
Unease lingers in her eyes. “Okay.”
“No half-truths. I prefer silence to lies.”
“I don’t lie.”
“You said you don’t enjoy being spanked.” My fingers glide between her ass cheeks and her wetness coats my fingers.
Her moan is jagged, as if she doesn’t want to give it full life. “I don’t… but I like what comes after… when you soothe me.”
“Ah.” I play with her clit and stop myself from diving in between her legs and gorging myself on her. “I’ll always soothe you. That’s a promise.”
“Thank you. And Mason?”
“Yes?”
“I’ll always tell you the truth, because that silence thing? It doesn’t work for me.”
“Understood.”
She nods in return, then nudges her ass against my fingers. I suppress another smile, right before I bring my hand down hard, once on each cheek.
She jerks and almost lands on my plate. I toy with the idea of punishing her, then eating my dinner off her stomach, but I catch her around the waist and ease her to the ground before I cup her flesh and rub the sting away.
She blinks rapidly and breathes hard for a full minute, then her eyes defiantly meet mine.
“Are you done?”
“I’m done. You okay?” I ask.
A single nod. “Yes.”
She returns to her seat, and we resume eating. When I’m done with my steak, I carry my plate to the sink. “You didn’t answer me about staying over.” I still want her to say no , take the matter out of my hands.
“I’ll stay if you answer my question. Why do you use your silences like that?”
I turn and lean against the sink with my arms folded. I debate the pros and cons of granting her this morsel and mentally shrug.
“My mother once told me when I was about four that children were meant to be seen and not heard. She was annoyed with me for some slight or other. I took the suggestion a step further and hid in our mansion’s attic for a week.
When they found me, she was out of her mind with worry.
I was somewhat appeased, but I still wanted her to pay, especially when she sealed the attic off so I couldn’t hide there again.
With that hiding place no longer an option, and not really efficient in the long term, I adopted silence as my recourse.
I would go days at a stretch without speaking to her and I found that, in those times, she was nicer to me. ”
Keely’s face is a picture of confused wariness. “So you’re saying you were deliberately cruel so she would be nice?”
“Yes.”
“And it worked for you then, so you’ve carried that trait into adulthood?”
“Yes.”
She places her cutlery carefully on her plate before she pushes it away. “Did she… hurt you in other ways?”
This time, I don’t stop my amusement from showing. “Are you trying to explain away my asshole-ness, Keely?”
“I’m trying to understand why you chose cruelty instead of, say… rebellion or the occasional brattish behavior.”
“I found it more effective.”
Sharp green eyes stare back at me. “Did you kick puppies too?”
“No. My puppy grew into a cherished companion who died fat, happy and of old age.”
“So your mother was the sole recipient of your mind-fuckery?”
“No. My father was invited to the party when the occasion demanded it. And later, my wife. I’d say she bore the harshest brunt of it.
” I hear the dull roar in my head as the pressure increases, but I ignore it.
I haven’t loosened the chains of my past for so long, it’s almost a relief to be having this conversation.
She slowly rises to her feet, but grips the edge of the counter, much like she did when I was fucking her ass. The reminder sends blood surging into my cock, but I concentrate on what she’s saying with an intensity that almost scares me.
“And being cruel to them made you feel better about yourself?”
A bark of laughter rips from my throat. “Rarely.”
Her face creases. “Then why? And why the hell did they stand for it?”
“Because I was the genius son who was the answer to all their problems. The proverbial golden goose who laid basketfuls of golden eggs. As long as they were bathed in gold, they didn’t much care how I treated them. I held the power. They reaped the rewards of my power. A win-win situation.”
“But you’re divorced now, so I guess your wife decided she had enough?”
“No, enough was never enough for her. She relished being a pathological victim. She didn’t leave me. I left her.”
“Why?”
Why? I wonder for a second what she’ll do if I tell her about Toby. That look of bewildered confusion on her face would change to horror. And then she would leave. I’m still not decided how I feel about her leaving, so I amend my answer.
“I decided to try not being a masochist for a change.”
“So you didn’t leave her for another woman?”
“That’s the definition of ultimate cruelty in your book?”
Her eyelids sweep down and I straighten, not at all pleased that I can’t read her expression.
“No, I’m very familiar with how cruel people can be.”
The heavy ache behind the words jerks through me. I start to walk toward her, but she picks up her plate and approaches. I take it from her and toss it into the sink.
The sound of glass breaking makes her jump, but my hands capturing her wrists divert her attention to me.