Chapter Sixteen
Control
Kyle
“Is sex your answer to every problem, sir?” Amy’s gaze followed Kyle as he walked around the end of the bed, fastening the trousers he’d collected from the floor and tugged on while she remained bound.
Their latest round of sensual indulgence hadn’t been planned, but when she’d started to protest about the cuff, the simplest way to placate had been with his cock. Fortunately for Kyle, she’d ceded with little more than a few throaty groans, wrapping her legs around him and pulling him closer as he plowed into her slick sex.
Every time with Amy was magnificent, but there were moments like that when he still couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have her.
So damn lucky.
To have found a woman with brains and an amazing body he could worship was incredible. After all the wealth he’d acquired, he recognized a blessing when he saw one. All he needed to do to keep her was convince Amy his murky past wasn’t a deal breaker.
“Maybe.” Kyle chuckled. “It’s a good answer, though, don’t you think?”
Collecting his uneaten omelet from the end of the bed, he carried his plate with hers to the table behind him. After all the effort he’d put into making the dish, he hadn’t even tried his food. In the end, it was his appetite for Amy that had won out. Looking at her, still tangled in his sheets, he reckoned it always would be.
“ Very good, sir.” She sighed. “But that’s not really my point.”
He glanced back, watching her scowl at the cuff still restraining her. In one form or another, he’d kept her tied to that bed for hours, and she’d probably just about had enough of his excuses, but that didn’t mean he’d changed his mind. She was there for good reason. No matter how intense the passion they shared was, he still couldn’t trust her.
“I’m going to need to use the restroom again soon.”
He heard the tension in her voice.
“Please say I don’t have to use the bucket again, sir.”
“Of course, you still have to use the bucket.” Rising to his full height, his hands clung to his hips. “I love you, little girl, but nothing has changed.”
“But this is ridiculous.” She slumped to the edge of the bed, sniffing back her emotion. “You can’t just leave me here like this for the rest of time. I have a life!” She shot him an accusing look, tears burning in her eyes. “I thought we had a life together?”
“We do.” He hesitated, her recrimination stinging more than he cared to admit. “But we both know you’ll only try to flee if I release you, little girl.”
“I won’t run.” She blew out a breath, her shoulders falling as far as the cuff allowed. “I want to be with you, sir, but we can’t pretend I didn’t find those files or what they mean.”
“What do you mean by that?” He edged closer, conscious that the low-lying anxiety, recently quelled by his orgasm, was reknotting in his stomach.
The ball of nerves had formed ever since he’d found her snooping in his study, and he’d been compelled to haul her pretty backside to his bedroom. Whatever he tried to do to alleviate the strain since never seemed to last.
“I mean, our trust issues go both ways, sir.” She wiped her tears with her free hand. “How can I trust you when you didn’t even tell me about Aspen Way?”
“Did we have to know every thing about the other before we fell in love, little girl?” His shin brushed the end of his bed.
“No.” She met his eyes. “But something as fundamental as, ‘I used to be your landlord’ would have been a start.”
Pressing his lips into a hard line, he considered her words. He had kept the information from her on purpose—hadn’t dared tell her the real reason why he’d kept their historic tenancy to himself. If she’d taken the information about Aspen Way so badly, he couldn’t imagine how she’d receive the news that he’d effectively tracked her all the intervening years. All he knew was he couldn’t risk losing her.
I have to be honest with her, though, or what’s the point of any of this?
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” He forced the words out, knowing on some rudimentary level, he meant them. He was sorry—about a lot of things. He wasn’t a good man, and much of his past would be hard to justify, but he couldn’t deny she warranted the truth. “You deserved to know, little girl, and I let fear stop me from telling you.”
Amy’s widening gaze suggested she was as surprised by the confession as he was. “You’re sorry ?” Her jaw dropped. “I mean… thank you, sir, it’s just, I’ve been waiting for even a flicker of remorse from you, and there’s been nothing until now.”
He had no choice but to agree. He’d allowed his ego to get in the way of what was the most important thing in his life— her .
“Yes, I’m sorry.” He closed the distance between them until he was close enough to take her free hand. “I hate to see you so upset.”
“I’m just…” She turned away, frowning. “This is all a lot, you know?”
“Yes.” He took his place beside her on the bed. “I get it.”
It was a lot.
“You said you were afraid?” She turned back to him. “What were you afraid of, sir?”
His insides twisted at her inevitable query. Amy was too smart not to pick up the blatant breadcrumbs he’d thrown. She was always going to notice them and want answers.
“Losing you.” He pulled in a deep breath as though the air was painful. “I suppose I worried how you’d handle the truth.”
“I guess I didn’t let you down, eh?” She laughed, the sound hollow. “Trying to leave after I found the files must have convinced you that you were right not to tell me?”
“Yeah.” He gazed into her watery eyes, rueful to have been the one causing the distress. It was one thing to spank and humiliate her—to know that they both enjoyed those things—but another to be the reason she cried into her pillow. Something had to change if they were going to be happy together. He couldn’t keep being the architect of all her pain. “It was a little triggering, but I know I overreacted.”
He could hardly believe what he was saying, but it seemed once the faucet of honesty had been turned on, it was proving difficult for him to switch it off again. If she wanted the truth, then she could have it all.
“I shouldn’t have treated you that way.” His free hand balled by his side. “I need to do better… and I will.”
“I really appreciate you saying that, sir. Maybe you can start with this?” She motioned to her right hand, which was naturally still caught in his metal cuff. “My shoulder’s aching being forced at this angle.”
“I will.” He dug into his trouser pocket to find the small key that would free his little girl from the cuff that had plagued her. He’d transferred it from his robe pocket earlier. “But first, there’s something else I need to tell you.”
The room started to sway around him, the walls paling to gray and pulsing while he tried to focus on her face.
“Something else?”
Her voice was coming over in waves, sounds he could hear and distinguish but seemed to take a long time for his brain to process. He clung to her hand, aware that even though it hadn’t been his intention, she was grounding him in some fundamental way.
“What, sir?”
“About the past.” He cleared his throat, certain his airway was trying to close and prevent his admission. Brock Hall seemed to contract around him, as though it, too, was reticent to hear his truth. “About our connection.”
“Okay.” Her brow furrowed. “I’m listening.”
“After Aspen Way…” Christ, this was more difficult than he’d thought it would be.
Sitting there, he wondered what on Earth he was doing, opening up about things she didn’t need to know about, but ultimately, the question was easily muted. He was being honest with the woman he loved because he had to be. If the dark hunger inside him was going to be mollified by Amy’s gentle nature, he had to share everything about the man he’d once been—the predator who’d tracked and pursued her—as well as the man who adored her.
She deserved honesty.
They both did.
“When you evicted us?” Her voice trembled.
“Yes.” It sounded terrible when she put it that way. “After then.”
“What about it?” Her stare was glassy. “Those were horrible years of raising the boys alone and gradually running out of money and credit.”
His trepidation surged at the absolute truth. She had suffered while he’d watched her decline like a twisted science experiment.
“I know, little girl.” He paused, taking in the contours of her face. Her skin conveyed her years, but she was still breathtakingly wonderful. “I’m sorry things were so hard then, and I didn’t do anything to help you.”
“None of that was your fault, sir…” Her voice trailed to silence. “Apart from the eviction, maybe, but I know we couldn’t afford the rent, and it was reasonable for you to ask us to leave.”
“You’re being generous.” God knew he didn’t deserve it. “But it’s not true; I could have done more.”
“Oh, sir.” Tugging her delicate hand from his, she encased her palm over his fingers. “You’re a good man, but you’re not a hero. How could you have helped a woman you didn’t even know?”
“But that’s just it, little girl.” The pain in his core tightened until it was almost impossible to ignore. “I did know you, or, at least, I knew of you…”
“Because you asked Graham to share me, you mean?” She screwed her face up at the thought, obviously still appalled by his suggestion.
“Yes.” It hadn’t been his finest hour, “but also because I never really let you go, Amy.”
“I… I don’t know what you mean.”
“I was bewitched by you, little girl.” He ensured their gazes locked, her gaze cementing him as the bedroom spun. “Even then. After Graham turned me down and I started eviction proceedings, I couldn’t get you out of my head.”
She pulled in what seemed like a steadying breath, her tone lower when she finally spoke again.
“ What did you do, sir?”
“I kept an eye on you.” There was no pride in his voice as he told the truth, no sense that he’d been right, only the certainty that he hadn’t acted to help her when he could have—when he should have. “Watched where you moved to and checked on your credit rating.”
“My credit rating?” Her voice was clipped, though she didn’t break his stare.
“Yes.” She might as well know the whole litany of his offense. “I watched from a distance when I could have been there for you.”
“Why?” She tried to pull her hand away, but he caught her wrist, compelling her warm flesh back to his lap. “Why would you w-watch me and not act?”
“Sir,” he prompted, conscious his control over her was starting to slip. “Why would I watch you, sir ?”
Control was the one thing he’d chased his entire life—authority over the people and situations around him—but gazing into her hurt expression, he realized for the first time how futile that power was. In the end, he couldn’t make her do anything. Hell, she was right; he couldn’t keep her chained there forever.
One day soon, he’d have to release her, and on that day, she’d be able to choose whether she stayed with him. Brock Hall wasn’t her prison. It was never supposed to be. He’d brought her there for sanctuary and solace, not isolated incarceration.
His throat dried as the weight of acceptance settled over him like cold water. Love wasn’t something to be chained up and controlled, and until he learned to let go, he could never truly call what they shared loving .
Glancing at her cuffed wrist, it was all suddenly clear to him. He had to set her free to know if she was truly his. She had to remain with him because it was what she wanted, not because he demanded it like an edict.
“You want me to call you sir when you’re telling me all of this?”
He didn’t appreciate the sharp edge to her tone, though he understood why she employed it.
“I want you to call me sir because you know I’m the man who’s mastered you, little girl.” He fought hard to push down the desire to tug her over his lap and punish her delectable ass for the mistake. He was communicating hard truths, most of which she wouldn’t like, and there was bound to be some pushback. For the time being, he’d just have to accept her wrath. “I want you to call me sir because you love me.”
A tense hush stretched out around them as she, presumably, grappled for what to say.
“Okay.” Her gaze narrowed, and he could see how difficult it was for her to reconcile what he had said. She probably detested what she was hearing but knew he had mastered her. No doubt she was struggling to marry the two equally valid concepts. “Will you tell me why , sir?”
“Because I wanted you.” His voice cracked with desperation as he revealed his motivation, his head falling from the weight of his shame. For the first time in his privileged life, indignity simmered within him, a sense that he should have done better. He’d never been short of money, influence, or opportunities, yet he’d always chosen the easy path rather than the ‘right’ one.
“I wanted you in my life, Amy, but it had to be at the right time. I knew you’d lost Graham, and I didn’t want to force myself on you in your grief, but…”
His words dried up, faltering as his wall of truth collided with his blurring lies. If he had been worried about her grief, he’d never given it any thought before. All he’d done was sit on his hands, watching from the sidelines and waiting for the walls of her world to come tumbling down so he could pounce with impunity.
“But?”
“But I couldn’t let you go, little girl.” An odd veil of clarity washed over him as he looked into her big eyes. “I know you didn’t know me then, but I longed for you. You have no idea how you stimulate my life.” He smiled wistfully. “I can’t sleep without you, Amy, can’t think without you.” His free hand rose to rub his temple, his fingertips still clutching at the key. “I can’t function without you.”
She stared at him, not speaking for the longest time, but he noticed how she’d stopped trying to yank her hand away. He hoped it was a good sign.
“So, you just watched me?” Mistrust echoed in her voice. It seemed to have become the soundtrack to their entire relationship. “You watched where I was and saw me sinking…”
“I always wanted to help you.” Jeez, he sounded pathetic. “It just had to be at the right moment, that was all.”
“And in the grocery store that day?” She heaved in air, as though she already knew the answer. “Did you plan that, or did we just run into each other by coincidence?”
“I followed you there.” He grimaced as he said the words aloud. “I wanted to speak to you. I’d decided I couldn’t wait any longer.”
“I was down to my last few pounds.” Her voice broke, though whether it was his truth or her exhaustion from the ordeal he’d put her through that caused the response, he couldn’t be sure. He didn’t know which was the better outcome. “I was desperate.”
“I waited too long,” he confessed, inching closer to hold her. “I’m sorry, Amy. If I could do it again, I’d do it all differently.”
“Would you?” The emotion flashing in her eyes was impossible to read.
“Yes.”
His tone was emphatic, and for the first time, there wasn’t a trace of doubt as he answered. He’d fucked up royally with Amy, and he would have done anything to have done better, to have been a better version of himself.
“It’s not too late, little girl. Don’t give up on us.”