Chapter 5 Grant #2
“He said the worst things about me,” she goes on, voice dropping a few degrees.
“Every day there was something else to pick on. The house was never clean enough. My cooking was terrible. I was getting fat. I was stupid. I was awful in bed.” She swallows.
“He started having affairs—or, at least, he told me he was. He liked to tell me how much better the other women were, how useless I was in comparison to everyone else.”
She laughs and the sound breaks my heart. “I have no idea if he was actually with anyone else. Jane never found any evidence of adultery to use in the divorce. For all I know he just got off on saying it to me. Knowing that he could do the worst things and I would still stay.”
“But you didn’t stay,” I point out. “You were brave and you left.”
She shudders in my arms, looking away. “One day, he locked me in the bathroom without my phone.” She swallows hard. “Said I needed to learn that he was in charge of where I went and what I did. Then he left the house. For two days.”
“Two fucking days?” I burst out. “Did he leave you food?”
She barely shakes her head no. “He said I had a toilet and plenty of water from the tap, and that’s better than I deserved.”
Fuck. I thought I wanted to kill the bastard before.
“It’s ridiculous,” she goes on. “That it took that much to get me to finally go. He was right, you know? I really was as pathetic as he always said.”
“Stop that," I bark out. “There’s nothing pathetic about you. He abused and controlled you, Kensie. That’s not your fault.”
“Logically I know that,” she whispers. “But sometimes its hard to actually believe it, you know?”
Of course it would be hard. That fucker tortured her, mentally and emotionally, for years. The fact that she overcame it is a miracle.
And I know I would spend the rest of my life trying to convince her of that—if she would only give me a chance.
Anyway. When I finally left, he didn’t take it well.
Called me incessantly. Showed up at my job, screaming and acting crazy.
Tried to pay a clerk at the hotel I was staying at to get into my room.
Jane found security cam footage of him slashing my car tires.
So the judge granted a protective order. ”
“And your ex broke the order this week,” I say, forcing myself to focus on the present moment. “You were upset. And that’s why you wanted to come here tonight?”
She shifts in my lap, clearly uncomfortable. “I thought it might ground me. It usually does.”
That sends a jolt of victory through me. “I’m so fucking glad I can be that for you sweetheart.” But I can’t let it go yet. “Tell me why you wanted to visit the dungeon tonight. That’s not your usual style.”
Again, she won’t meet my eyes. “I don’t know how to explain it. I just…I was feeling so awful. As soon as I saw those flowers it was like all the things he ever said came rushing back. I couldn’t get it out of my head, that I was stupid and useless. That I deserved bad things to happen to me.”
Suddenly, her begging me to punish her makes a lot more sense. And she asked me to degrade her. Why in the hell hadn’t I caught on that something was wrong? Fuck.
As if she’s reading my mind, Kensie dips her chin. “You probably think I’m disgusting,” she whispers. “Like, seriously fucked up. Wanting you to do those things to me just because my ex made me think I deserved it.”
“You’re not fucked up,” I say firmly. “Desire can be a complicated thing, Kense. People get into this lifestyle for all different reasons. I can guarantee that plenty of the people in this building right now are working through something pretty damn heavy.” I cradle the side of her face.
“You needed a release this week so you came to me. I’m fucking proud of you for that. ”
She looks like she’s not sure if she should believe me or not.
“But in the future,” I go on. “I need you to be honest with me, okay? I need you to tell me what’s going on with you. That’s the only way I can take care of you.”
She scoffs. “I shouldn’t need you to take care of me. I’m a grown-ass adult, I should be able to—”
“Stop,” I insist. “Taking care of you is my fucking job. That’s the whole point of being a Dom.”
She doesn’t say anything and I know she’s not buying it.
“Do you know if your lawyer has been in touch with Jane about the flowers?” If she hasn’t, I sure as hell am going to be. If there’s anyone who can prove the flowers came from him, it’s Jane.
“I think she was going to call her, but I doubt she’ll be able to do anything. Fred is very good at covering his tracks.” She sighs. “I shouldn’t have gotten so upset. It’s not like he hurt me. They were just flowers, right?”
“It wasn’t just fucking flowers,” I growl.
“It’s just…my apartment is my safe place, you know?” Her voice is so small, so fucking sad, and it breaks my heart. “Seeing those flowers made it feel…disgusting there. Tainted or something.”
“That’s perfectly understandable.”
“But I played right into his hands,” she argues. “I know what he’s doing—just trying to get a reaction out of me.” She gives a sad little laugh. “And I did exactly what he wanted. I couldn’t even stay in my apartment this weekend, I was so shaken up.”
“Where the hell did you go?”
She shrugs. “A hotel.”
The urge to break things grows. She shouldn’t have been in a hotel, she should have been with me. She should have let me take care of her. That’s what would have happened with any of my past subs—it’s the entire fucking point. My submissive should always know that I’m there to take care of her.
But I haven’t treated Kensie like any of my other submissives. I’ve been allowing her to call the shots this entire time. It’s so out of character for me I could laugh. But there’s no doubt why I was willing to do it.
I’m crazy about this girl. I have been since the very first day Joan introduced us.
I’d taken one look at those bottomless ocean eyes and known that I would do whatever it took to be with her.
The idea of any other man at Wyld being the one to help her made me see red—and that was all before I’d even touched her.
But I’ve been going against my instincts, against my very nature, for weeks now. I was willing to do it for Kensie because I thought it was the only way I could have her. But now I’m realizing my mistake.
The woman in my arms hasn’t needed me just to provide her with exciting sex and orgasms. She needs me to guide her. To take control of the situation. To fucking protect her.
That starts right now.
It might freak her out, the way I want to take care of her. My girl is skittish. She doesn’t trust easily and she’s told me in no uncertain terms that she doesn’t want a relationship outside of the club. But that’s okay. I’m a patient motherfucker when it comes to getting what I want.
And there’s never been anything I want more than Kensie.