22. Juliet
JULIET
I ’m in too deep. There’s no getting out. That much is clear as I watch Lex walk away from the bed and into his closet. The question I’d been contemplating earlier in the day before Megan had tried her bullshit comes back to me.
Is it possible to fall in love with another person’s darkness?
The answer is yes. It is and I am. I’m in love with the Scorpion Kings.
With Gio and Lex and Nolan. I trust them.
I crave them. I’d been so angry, on the edge, needing something to break the vicious cycle that Megan had caused and that Morpheus had continued by showing up at Silverwood Public.
The buzz of anxiety he’d left beneath my skin is all but gone and it’s thanks to the man striding out of the closet holding a small worn shoebox.
“Lex?” I sit up straight as he comes around the bed and kneels in front of me.
He reaches inside and pulls something familiar out of its depths. Then, without a word, he takes one of my hands and pushes it into my palm.
“This is for you.”
I stare down at the piece of leather and metal in my hand.
It’s handmade, that much is clear. There’s no sign of a label or logo from a brand manufacturer.
I can guess who made it, but what astounds me is that he would make something like this for himself.
I lift my eyes back to the man kneeling in front of me.
“You want me to…” I swallow and try to frame my next words with my lips. “Use this?”
Does he mean for me to put this on him or myself?
Lex’s eyes are on me, no wavering, no nervousness, only anticipation. “I’ve loved you for so long, I no longer know what it feels like to not belong to you,” he says. “I’m not rich. I’m not powerful like your family once was. I have nothing to give you but me.”
“Lex…”
“You saved my life thirteen years ago. It’s been yours since.”
My chest aches. Sweat beads on the back of my neck. My fingers close around the collar until the edges stab into my skin. Mine . I look down at the tool in my hand. It’s more than just a symbol of faith, it’s more than a confession. It’s something I’ve never had before.
I don’t know what to say, so I opt not to say anything just yet. Instead, I press the pad of one fingertip to the edge of the leather collar and trace it around in a circle.
“If you want control, then I can give it to you,” he says. “I can give you anything— everything .” He seems to correct himself at the last part, but it only makes my heart race faster.
Control . I close my eyes. He can’t know…
can he? That I was once so out of control.
That I did something stupid and lost trust with myself.
The punishment that came out of that encounter is still ongoing.
Though, I’ve traded partying with people who never truly loved me for the anger I cling to like a second skin.
It’s still there. The hurt. The fear. The pain.
“Lex…” I croak his name as his hand lands on mine, stopping the tracing.
“There is no secret you could tell me that would make me love you any less, Juliet.”
My vision is watery, but through the unshed tears, I stare back at the man before me. Fucking hell.
It’s the glint of something unhinged in his eyes that tells me the truth that can’t be exposed by words.
Alexio Medicci isn’t quite sane. He’s a beast held in check by a very loose leash.
Perhaps it’s the other Scorpion Kings that have kept him from losing the last vestiges of his mind, but the leash is so frayed by this point he has no other choice but to look for a new master to help him.
My eyes return to the bit of metal and leather. I’m not sure how much I want to control him, but the fact that he’d be willing to let me have it tells me that he’s right for me. He’s made a muzzle for a monster, but he’s mine. My monster. My darkness to love and keep.
If he knows my secrets, he doesn’t say. The hint is there. The suggestion, but I’m too much of a coward to open that door. Even if I wasn’t, I won’t disrupt what we have here with the ugliness of the past.
I’m not like him. I’m not like any of them, but for a night I can pretend.
Taking a halting breath and then another and another, I suck back the anxiety and fear coursing through my veins until it fades enough beneath the surface for me to focus on the man in front of me.
Lex’s head drops back on his shoulders and he gazes up at me even as his hands curl into fists and release, over and over again, on top of his thighs.
“Take off your shirt.”
My command is met with immediate compliance. He reaches back and fists a handful of his t-shirt, dragging it up and over his head before discarding it to the side.
Looking down at him like this, eyes roving over the wide expanse of his bare chest, shadowed by the contours of his muscles, I feel myself grow impossibly wet between my thighs. I glance over to the shoebox.
“What else do you have in there?” I ask when I spot the shiny metal sitting inside.
Lex stiffens and then a blush steals across his cheeks. “It’s not perfect…” he hedges.
“Show it to me.” Neither of us are perfect, but I want to see all that he is regardless.
His blush doesn’t deepen, but it does remain as he hesitantly reaches into the box and pulls out a small cage of metal wiring that’s thin and open on one side. A real, actual muzzle. I hold out my hand and he sets it in my palm.
“Is this for you too?” I ask.
Lex shifts on his knees, but he can’t hide the tent at the crotch of his pants. “It’s for you to decide.”
The muzzle is the same as the collar, missing a logo and brand.
It must also be handmade. I don’t want to put the muzzle on him.
Not yet. I have other plans for his mouth that don’t include caging it.
So, I drop the thing at my feet. His eyes flash to it, disappointment and hurt filling their gray depths, but then my fingers are on his throat and he jerks up as I lace the collar around his throat.
“Leash?”
He practically dives for the shoebox at my soft inquiry. In a split second there’s a long length of leather in my hand and I attach it to the circle of metal at the front of his throat.
My lips twitch as I see the sharp and fast beat of his pulse pounding against the side of his neck. He’s flushed, sweating and panting as I collar and leash him. This big man with wide muscles and arms thick enough to break me in half if he really wanted. He’s the one giving me control.
“You—” he begins, but I jerk him forward, cutting off his words.
“Don’t talk,” I order. “You don’t talk unless I give you permission. Is that clear?”
“Ye—” I jerk the leash again, holding it high and forcing him to arch up as I raise my brow.
“That’s not what dogs say.”
A full-body tremble works through him and all at once, his muscles sag, his hands unclenching and remaining open on his thighs. His mouth opens, lips parting as he gives a low, guttural bark that is far too human for what I see in his eyes.
“Good boy.” I rest a hand on the top of his head, sifting my fingers through the incredibly soft strands of inky black.
I lower the leash down and hold it out for him. Lex leans forward, keeping his eyes on mine as he parts his lips and takes the leather between his pearly white teeth. The connection is incredibly hot. Volcanic. He’s not thinking about anything else. At this moment, there’s just me and him.
Slowly, I stand and his gaze follows. My chest rises and falls with each breath as I carefully tug off my clothes. I toss my shirt on top of his and then unbutton my jeans, pushing them down over my hips. The quiet growl of hunger that erupts from him is muffled by the leash in his mouth.
Reaching around my back, I unclip my bra and let that fall as well.
When I’m down to nothing left but my underwear, I sit back on the bed and cross my legs.
I cup my chin in my hand, letting the weight of my head rest there as I prop my elbow up on my knee.
I watch him. Lex’s entire body is practically vibrating with the need to take over, to take what he wants.
He’s fighting his instincts because he thinks I need this.
The fact is, I want to feel comfortable giving him control.
I’m tired. So fucking tired and I want to trust someone to take care of me for a change.
I lean forward, taking the leash from him and pulling on it.
He doesn’t need to be told twice or at all.
His hands hit the floor and he moves forward, on his hands and knees, his animalistic look trails up my body, over my tits and to my face.
I tighten my hand around his leash and stare at him.
Long coal-dark lashes lift as he returns the look.
What do you want? I silently ask him. What will make you happy?
I’ve spent far too many years trying to make others happy to no avail.
I shouldn’t want to try this again. Yet, I can’t seem to help myself.
Lex is different from anyone else. He doesn’t hide or prevaricate, doesn’t put his desires behind curtains and obstacles, demanding that I hunt for the answers I seek.
He hands them over on a silver platter and begs me to love him.
I can’t be sure that what we have is real love. I don’t even know if I’ve ever felt what constitutes as real . If what we have isn’t real, I’ll still shove that false love down my throat. I’ll choke on it. Kill myself with it. If it’s a deception then I’ll die by that lie.
The real world sucks anyway.
Lex nuzzles his face against my legs hard enough to make me unlink them together.
Then he’s between them, sliding his big body—far too much to be a real dog—against me until I have to force my legs farther apart to accommodate him.
Then he’s kissing my inner thigh and I hate that I left my underwear on even if I had my reasons.