Chapter 13
This was the worst way to start off our anniversary trip. We’d pulled ourselves together long enough to welcome Eve off the bus and get her ready for when Leah’s mother picked her up for the sleepover.
But we’d barely said two words to each other since we’d loaded our bags into the trunk over an hour ago. I shifted in my seat, hissing between my teeth because no matter how I moved, I couldn’t escape the pain from the force of that brush.
He’d walloped my ass good.
I shot him a sideways glance. A shadow darkened his jawline. I imagined a dark cloud obscured his eyes as well.
“How many times did you see him?” His question filled up the festering space, piercing my ears louder than the highway rushing beneath us.
“I met with him once,” I said then lowered my voice. “Ran into him twice after that.”
He gripped the steering wheel as if the thing threatened to break off and roll away. “Did you run into him on purpose?”
“No, Gage. It wasn’t on my end.”
“Address me properly.”
I sighed. This was getting us nowhere.
“I mean it, Kayla. Address me properly, or I’ll pull the car over.” He threw me a look full of devious meaning. “After what I put your ass through earlier, trust me—you don’t want more.”
“Yes, Master.”
“Did he touch you?”
Shit. He wasn’t about to let this go any more than I’d been willing to let him off the hook about Katherine and her undone buttons. I recalled how Ian had grabbed my hand, how he’d trapped me between him and the couch. How he’d kissed me for the merest of seconds.
All of those things would jab at Gage’s anger.
“Just tell me the truth, Kayla. Don’t overthink it.”
“He touched me,” I admitted quietly.
“How?”
“Grabbed my hand, mostly.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed in this throat. “Did you touch him?”
“Only to push him away.”
His jaw was so rigid, I wondered if it would split in two.
The remainder of the drive went by in utter disquiet.
Gage focused his attention on getting us safely over the worst part of the snowy pass.
By the time we pulled into the driveway of a secluded cabin, nightfall had descended hours ago.
Fluffy, white snow weighed down the surrounding pine trees, and the inches on the rooftop must have reached a foot or more.
I opened my door, grateful that someone had plowed the driveway and cleared a path to the front door. My boots crunched on packed-down snow, fracturing the cold serenity of winter. Gage popped the trunk, hefted a suitcase and a duffle out, and gestured for me to precede him to the stoop.
“It’s beautiful out here,” I said.
“It’s secluded. I had to pay a premium to get someone out here to ready the place for us. No one’s around for miles.” We reached the front door, and the way his gaze lingered on me sent nervous flutters into my belly.
“For two days, it’s just you and me, Kayla.”
Just the two of us…and me at his mercy. Eve wouldn’t provide a buffer between us. His work wouldn’t save me with a well-timed distraction. Being in the middle of nowhere with him was nerve-wracking enough on its own, but considering how hurt and furious he was…
He set the luggage down long enough to unlock the door. I entered first, and a blast of warmth hit me. A fire raged in the insert. The plush throw rug in front of the flames would be the perfect spot to make love all night.
The thought squeezed my heart. I missed making love with him. These past few weeks, he’d been more dominant than loving.
He dropped our luggage by the front entrance. “No TV, no distractions. I’d planned to make you come all weekend until you begged me to stop.”
Past tense.
Forget making love by the fireplace. I’d ruined this weekend and any chance of that happening.
No, a logical voice in my head piped in. We’d ruined the weekend. I’d been in the wrong, but he wasn’t innocent either. He should have never allowed Katherine inside his office, let alone plant her ass on his desk.
He dragged a hand through his hair. “I want you naked, now.”
Blinking several times, I held it all in, refused to fall apart. But the way he was acting stabbed at my hurt, opening old wounds. I couldn’t take it when he grew cold and distant. I could take just about anything but that.
“Yes, Master,” I choked out, shrugging out of my coat. I reached for the hem of my sweater, but his warm palm on my cheek stopped me. He leaned down and took my mouth. The slow slide of his tongue against mine melted all my doubts, all my fears.
The tears finally broke free, streaming down my cheeks, dampening the stubble on his face. Cleansing us. I clutched his jacket, needing his reassurance more than ever.
“I’m sorry, Master,” I said with a gasp.
“Shhh.” His command feathered across my well-kissed lips. “I know, baby.” The low, sexy tenor of his voice hit me in places where I was most vulnerable. Right at the center of my heart and between my thighs.
“Get naked for me, then go lie down on your stomach on the rug.” He pointed toward the fireplace. “I’ll put our bags in the bedroom.”
Less than five minutes later, he had me sprawled by the fire.
The rhythmic movement of his hands as he rubbed lotion into my skin cast me under a curious spell—one where the pain from the hairbrush ceased.
But his gentleness also widened the crack in my spirit, until every last bit of sorrow and regret gushed from me in a torrential downpour.
As I replayed my punishment, in which he’d extracted each vow, I wasn’t sure if I hurt for him or for me.
He said I’d broken his heart.
“I’m in love with you.” My voice hitched on a sob.
“I know.” He hovered over my back and pressed his lips to my shoulder. “I never doubted that, Kayla.”
“I never meant to hurt you.” My diaphragm spasmed with a hiccup.
“I know that as well.” He scooted down my body, placing kisses along my spine, and his breath heated the small of my back. Gentle fingers kneaded my stinging flesh. Then he ran a finger between my ass cheeks and stalled at my puckered hole.
“Are you done punishing me?” I tensed, waiting for his next move. The simple act of him teasing my asshole made me nervous.
“I’ll never tire of punishing you.” He rolled me to my back and gently wedged my thighs apart. “Every Friday night until the day I die.”
So the ritual was permanent. For the rest of my life, I’d endure his belt. Just because.
Because that’s who he was.
“What if I don’t want that?”
He crawled up my body and grasped my hair. “As long as you’re my wife, you’ll get my belt.” He nipped at my neck, right above the collar. “But you’ll also get me, Kayla. Every part of me. You have my fucking soul.”
“Not every part of you,” I pointed out.
“What do you mean?”
“I want your control.”
“So we’re back to that, are we?”
Wood crackled in the fireplace, drawing my attention. The clock above the mantel ticked.
Tick, tick, tick.
Each second brought us closer to our anniversary when the shackles on my orgasms would unlock and fall to the ground.
“That was the agreement. I make it to our anniversary, you give me what I want.” I gestured toward the clock. “Our anniversary begins in fifteen minutes.”
I expected worry to darken his features. Maybe even resignation. Anything but the devilish grin that widened his mouth.
“Guess that means I’ve got fifteen minutes to make you come.”
As he lowered his head between my thighs, I became dizzy with delirium.
It seemed like weeks instead of days since he’d gone down on me.
His warm breath hit my aching core an instant before his mouth did.
And he didn’t start off slow. Instead of teasing, like he’d been doing for days, he flattened his tongue on my clit and added the perfect amount of pressure.
My spine arched, and I moaned deep in my throat, seconds away from coming undone. My fingers found their way into his hair and clutched him to me. Begged me to push him away. What a dilemma.
I dug my heels into the rug, pushed up on my elbows, and tried to scoot out of reach. His hold on me tightened. Upon my frustrated cry, he raised his head and ensnared me inside blue eyes full of cunning design.
“Don’t move.” His do-as-I-say-or-else tone put an end to the fight in my bones. I froze, my gaze prisoner to his.
“That’s better.” Letting go of one hip, he slowly dipped a finger into my pussy, watching me the whole time. Studying my reaction. Calculating how far he’d have to go to push me over the edge before midnight. “You’re going to come on my tongue, whether you want to or not.”
“If I don’t, will you honor our agreement?”
Rubbing his rough cheek against my inner thigh, he smiled—just a tiny curve of his lips, but I saw it.
“You’ll come.” He sounded way too confident as he thrust another finger inside me, and I wondered if he wasn’t right.
“Don’t move,” he warned again before returning his mouth to my clit and moving his tongue in a steady back and forth rhythm.
My head plopped to the floor, and a soundless breath escaped.
Back and forth, up and down.
Flick, flick, flick.
Pressure…God, the pressure. I was nothing but a throbbing bundle of nerves between my legs.
I clenched my fists at my sides and willed myself not to move. Not to push my mound more firmly into his mouth. Not to let the upsurge of release burst through my faulty barricade.
Because I wanted him underneath me, tied to the bed, his mouth gagged. I wanted him at my mercy, only this time, I wanted to have none.
I wanted to unleash my demons and watch them rain down on him.
But hell, if he kept this up, I had no doubt he’d make me come before midnight.
I cast a glance at the clock. Eight more minutes.
Seemed like forever. I fastened my attention on that slow moving hand as it taunted with its lazy jaunt through each number.
Zeroed in on the constant tick, tick, tick that kept perfect timing with his expertly timed tongue.
“Eyes on me.”