Chapter Seven
Grace
“Hmm…”
I moan softly as I slowly come awake. My body aches in the most pleasurable way, and I gingerly stretch my legs. Images of last night rush back into my mind, and I can’t help the small smile that tugs at my lips.
While I’d always imagined what sex might be like, I knew I’d never be able to gain any kind of experience while living in the home of my twisted fanatic of a father. And since I was closely monitored with no friends, there was no way to learn about sex and how deeply pleasurable and versatile it can be.
I slowly blink my eyes open, and my gaze clashes with a pair of striking cobalt-blue eyes. My immediate shock transforms into a shy blush once I see the absolute tenderness in them.
“Good morning,” Theo murmurs huskily, sending pleasurable shivers down my spine. He leans over slightly, his lips gently grazing mine. “Sleep well, baby?”
I nod, unable to manage a word past the tightness in my throat. My heart is beating so fast, butterflies fluttering around nervously in my stomach.
God, I’m already in so deep…
I sigh softly, taking in his fully covered body and freshly cleaned hair. He is smartly dressed in a black suit similar to the one he wore last night. “Are you going somewhere?” I ask, my heart clenching painfully at the thought of not being around him.
He reaches down to tuck a wayward curl behind my ear, then places his left hand on the other side of me, caging me in the searing heat of his body. “I’m attending a friend’s funeral. Warren Flint.” Pain flitters over his gaze before he masks it with a small smile. “We were friends as kids until my parents moved out of the neighborhood. I lost contact with him until I attended an art showcase a few years back and he was the artist. After that we reconnected,” he explains somberly.
I reach out to stroke his brows with my fingers. I can’t help it. I don’t like to see him unhappy. And the fact that this hard-ass man can be vulnerable with me is humbling. “I’m sorry about your friend,” I whisper.
“It’s alright, sweetheart.”
“What happened to him?” I ask.
“He committed suicide,” he says. “Though, I find that odd.” His brows crease slightly in a frown.
“Why?”
“The last time I saw him at a function, he was planning his retirement exhibition. He was also excited to meet his daughter, because she’d been away for college and would be graduating soon. He seemed happy about his upcoming retirement and spending time with his daughter. So, how can someone like that, who has something to live for, kill himself?”
My heart constricts at the blatant confusion in his gaze. His friend’s death does sound truly odd. Still, no one can ever know what was going through his mind to take such a step. I ask, “What can I do to make you feel better?”
Theo smiles, and in that moment, the sadness in his eyes is replaced with a heart-tugging gentleness. “Having you here, in my arms and in my home, is all I need to feel better. I know it hasn’t been long, but I only have to think about you and my heart eases. You’re quickly becoming my sole reason for happiness.”
My breath hitches at the rawness in those endlessly beautiful eyes of his. No one has ever made me feel so wanted, so important…
I smile up at him. “It makes me happy to know that there’s someone who wants me in their home and in their life. I’ve never felt that way before,” I say softly, thinking of my father and the hurt he caused me.
“You deserve it,” Theo declares softly, leaning down to kiss my lips again. “I have to go, sweetheart. I’ll be back soon.” He caresses my cheek, then rises up and heads out of the room.
After Theo leaves, I let myself savor the warmth of his kisses and his words. I haven’t felt this happy in a long time. My chest feels like it might suddenly combust from joy.
Do I deserve to be this happy? Do I really?
I think back to the times during my childhood when I found joy or excitement in anything, only for my father to cut it short or take it away. My father denied me most things that might cause pleasure, as some kind of self-discipline, a way to keep me “holy.” But Theo makes me feel like I might actually deserve to be happy, to be taken care of, to feel pleasure…
For the past two days, I’ve tried not to acknowledge the little voice of fear in the back of my mind, but it seems louder now, harder to ignore…
What if my father comes looking for me?
I roll out of bed, pushing the thought out of my head. I don’t want his image in my head right now. Instead, my mind drifts back to Theo, and the pain in his eyes when he talked about his late friend. The need to ease his pain tugs at my heart, and suddenly an idea strikes in my mind, stemming from my experience in the kink room. My cheeks heat up as I remember everything that transpired in that room last night.
Unsurprisingly, my sex clenches at the memory of the soft tickling feather heightening my desire, the soft leathery whips that created deep, blooming ache in my core with every tap and flick, the vibrator that caused explosions of sensations… And not to forget the blindfold and the restraints, heightening my desire to an extreme I’ve never felt before.
I certainly wouldn’t mind playing in that room again, especially knowing that Theo needs the release.
With that thought, I head into the bathroom, and my mouth almost falls open at the opulence of it. White, glossy tiles decorate the wall with gold accents, giving a splash of color from the faucets to the mirror frames. I admire the wide space as I fill up the bathtub with warm water. When the tub is filled up, I quickly sink into the soothing warmth.
A relaxing twenty minutes later, I walk out of the bathroom, the scent of lavender trailing after me. I rummage through his closet and pull out a silk green shirt and slip it on, the end hitting mid-thighs. I button it up, leaving about three buttons open at the chest, teasing out my cleavage. It’s not like the red lingerie I wore at the auction house, but it’s something.
I twirl slowly, feeling sexy and excited for what’s to come, and then I head out of the room, gliding my hands over the art pieces in the hallway. I go down the stairs, nervous and excited as I imagine Theo’s reaction to my outfit. I have to admit that it’s extremely bold for me to dress provocatively and wait up for him, but he has made me more confident and comfortable in my skin.
In the living area, I settle into one of the plush black couches, trying to imagine what else Theo has up his sleeves in the bondage room. So far, I’ve enjoyed everything he’s done to me. My core clenches as I remember the intense pleasure and the number of climaxes I had while at his mercy. My breath hitches as the hot and cold feeling washes over me, tightening my nipples.
Suddenly, I remember his words about using nipple clamps on me next time. My insides quiver in anticipation.
Maybe he’ll use the clamps on me tonight…
Just then, the doorbell rings. I break out in a big smile even as my heart thuds violently against my rib cage. I squeeze my thighs together in anticipation, feeling myself already growing damp between my legs.
Theo!
I hurry over to the door, hastily pulling it open without a second thought. My smile freezes on my face at the sight of the person on the other side.
“F-father,” I stutter, my eyes opening wide with shock.
The shock on my father’s face mirrors mine. Or maybe it’s worse. He looks like he’s about to pass out. His usually pale skin grows paler in the resounding silence.
“What in God’s name are you wearing!” he finally explodes, his cheeks turning red in anger.
I squeak loudly, glancing down at my exposed cleavage and the length of the silk shirt, as if I didn’t know I had it on. I look up to find something sinister growing behind his dark gaze.
I gasp, my body instantly springing into action. I spin around quickly and run into the coat room, grabbing one of Theo’s jackets off the rack and yanking it over the shirt. I come back out clenching its edges tightly around my fists.
My father huffs, jabbing his finger in my direction. “You foolish girl! Is this why you left home?” He gestures at my body. “To whore yourself out and prostitute around like a harlot?”
I stare at him in shock, unable to reconcile the fact that he’s really here. I had thought about the possibility of him showing up earlier, but nothing prepared me for his presence in Theo’s house.
“How did you find me?” I blurt.
He pauses his jerky pacing movements. “You think you can hide from me, you Jezebel?” he spits out. “You can run, but you can never go far, girl. I’ll find you wherever you are. This time it’s a private investigator, next time it’ll be a warrant for your arrest.”
His mouth twists bitterly with anger and hatred. “I should have known that you’ve always wanted to sell yourself cheap to men. Just like your stupid mother, you’re always dressing in ways that don’t please God. You just want to be a cunt passed around from one man to another. Or dance like the spawn of the devil that you are,” he rants.
I flinch with every word, pulling into myself. My father has always had way with his words, turning and twisting them until they make sense to only him.
But for the first time, his words don’t sting so bad. Thinking about it now, I realize that I’ve only been with Theo for a short while, and I’ve already experienced what it’s like to be wanted for myself and nothing else.
I have always searched for a missing piece within, thinking there was something wrong inside of me. Something that made my dad such a hateful person, but now I’m starting to see that he’s the problem.
“Now, get up there and find some decent clothes to wear because you’re coming with me,” he grinds out.
I watch him impassively even as my heart thuds in fear. My father can be unpredictable, but I’ve changed too. I’m not the same daughter he knew. “I’m going nowhere with you. I’m happy where I am,” I respond calmly.
“You’re coming with me, or by God, I will strike you. The lord made a man the head of a family and made his word the law. So you will listen to me, you filthy spawn. Get your slutty, whoring self into a good dress or you’ll feel my wrath,” he shouts, jabbing his finger at me with every word.
Inside, I’m a trembling mess, but I refuse to show him how he’s affecting me.
“No,” I say in a low tone.
“I will beat the devil out of you, girl,” he threatens.
And before I can react, his right hand is flying toward my face. I fall back against the wall, reeling from the impact of his slap, but another quickly follows. I cry out in pain, grabbing my cheeks as I fall to my knees.
Hot tears seep out of my eyes as white-hot pain radiates through my face. A loud ringing noise slowly fills my head, drowning out every other sound including my father’s obnoxious voice. I can see his moving mouth, but I can’t hear a word as I watch him unbuckle his belt.
I can’t escape quickly enough, still rooted to the floor from the shock and pain. I lower my head, waiting for the strike of the belt, preparing myself for the searing pain…but nothing comes.
Instead, an unmistakable voice cuts across the room. Deathly quiet. “What the hell is going on here?”