Dom Wars - Round Four

by Lucian Bane

  I had to make her mine, she had to be mine. Now. Yesterday. Tomorrow. Every fucking tomorrow. No games, no more pain. Just me and her, loving and laughing. Living. Really living. Fuck, I could live if I had her. I could really live.

  ****

  “Where are we?” Tara looked around. She’d not gone to the far end of the car after we made love but she wasn’t glued to my side either. It was progress.

  “Not sure,” I lied. “Looks like some kind of mall. Maybe Steve needs to stop.”

  “Oh.” She scanned the area like a child happening along a carnival.

  “You…want to go in?”

  She turned to me with a look on her face that made me want to give her the world. “Can we?”

  “I don’t see why not if you really want to.”

  She tossed her head a bit from side to side with indecision. Odd that she didn’t want me to know how badly she wanted it.

  “First time at a big mall?”

  The question drew her brows together. “What? No,” followed with a “pfft. Of course not. We have a mall.”

  “One?”

  “A big one.”

  I smiled. “Let’s go explore.”

  We entered a large department store and she gasped. “An escalator.”

  I smiled down at her. “You like those?”

  She smiled back, unashamed as she hurried to it. “I do.”

  “Well we better go see what’s upstairs then.”

  We stepped on and she gasped about halfway up. “There’s three of them!”

  I laughed. “Yes. Ginormous.” I leaned in and kissed her on the lips and she shied away, not keen on the whole public show of affection. Or was she embarrassed with me?

  The idea stabbed me just as my phone vibrated in my pocket and slammed me with dread. Fuck. No. God.

  We made our way to the next escalator and I looked around. “Wonder what floor the bathroom is on?”

  “Let’s ask.” We got off the escalator and got directions from the woman at the first counter, then headed to the wall she pointed to. We both went to the bathroom and I pulled out my stupid fucking phone. Make Tara jealous.

  My breakfast rushed up and I hurried to the toilet, holding it back with ragged gasps. I gripped the wall and fought the fury boiling inside me, grasping desperately for reasons to go on. To not quit. A million dollars was the least fucking enticing. Tara. She needed family. Her grandmother. She needed her only family put back together. But she fucking needed me too. I knew she did. No matter what she looked like, said, faked, or pretended.

  I shoved out of the stall and went to the sink. She would get over it once she knew, she was strong and stubborn. A true Dom. I knew this deeply. It was me that needed to be strong. It was me that needed to Dom the fuck up. Play out the lie. She’d be okay. Once she knew it wasn’t my fault, she’d be okay.

  It was perfect timing if I needed to be an optimist. And I really fucking did. Steve was out getting my next sorry gift and planting it in the car. I was to wait for his call before heading back to the limo. I needed to do this bullshit and get it done.

  Our one hour honeymoon was already over.

  I headed out of the bathroom realizing one final thing. I’d need to make it count or all this fucking bullshit would be for nothing. I couldn’t half ass this one. I needed to saw off the leg entirely. Quickly. No stopping halfway through to whine about it. Sabotage the operation and make us suffer this agony for nothing. No fucking way. We had to win, losing was not an option. And playing nice wasn’t an option if that was to happen.

  “I’d like to buy you something.” I hooked my arm in Tara’s and led her back down the escalators.

  “Oh, you don’t need to do that. I mean, like what?”

  I ignored the excitement in her voice that said she lied, resisted the pain it wanted to inflict on me. “Something intimate.”

  “Oh?” She smiled and I led her to the lingerie department on the first floor. While we browsed the garments, I kept an eye out for an attractive worker. Finally, a woman the size of three Taras came to our assistance and I kindly declined her help.

  I finally spotted a woman shopping the panties nearby who would work for the job. I headed over to her and browsed the garments next to her.

  “Looking for anything in particular?” Tara whispered, sounding embarrassed.

  “Yes, I am.” I turned to the woman. “Excuse me. Can you help me?”

  She paused and looked up, attraction immediately registering in her face. At seeing Tara, it nearly disappeared. Nearly. “I can try?”

  I lowered my voice to intimate but still loud enough for Tara to hear. “I hope I’m not being too forward but, I’m looking for a particular garment. It needs to have easy access at the breasts, a slit for the nipples to peek through when I make them hard…. And I’d like an open slit at the pussy as well. For indulging my every fantasy.”

  The woman had turned ten shades of red by the time I was done. She blinked several times before halfway gaining her composure. “I…I’m not sure they have that here.”

  “But you’re familiar with what I’m describing?” I moved closer to her and put my arm on the rack, putting Tara at my back. “You seem like you might be. You certainly have the body type for it.”

  “Oh my, I…I think I know what you’re talking about. And I’m pretty sure they don’t carry that here.”

  “Can you direct me where I can find that? I’m in the mood for something…a little wild. Do you feel what I’m saying?”

  She cleared her throat and angled her head, pointing a little. “You’re um…friend is…”

  I slowly closed my eyes, not needing to look to know she was leaving. “Sorry for my inappropriate behavior.” I barely managed the words. “I didn’t mean one fucking word of it.”

  I hurried after Tara, following her to the car. Shit, Steve hadn’t called.

  “Tara!” I yelled as she began to half run out the store. Jesus Christ.

  I hurried to catch her and then decided why the fuck. It was useless. I finished my trek at a regular pace not surprised to find she’d locked me out. Out of the car, out of her heart. Her fucking life.

  At least it was over. Another murder committed and done. I leaned my back against the door, looking around, hanging my head in disgust. Couldn’t even say I was sorry.

  Fifteen minutes later, Steve half ran to the car, awkwardly clutching a white stuffed cat half his body size. He didn’t notice me until he got to the limo. “Jumping Joseph on a pogo stick!” he exclaimed with wide eyes.

  I shook my head in defeat.

  “She’s…”

  “I got an assignment. She locked me out. And I don’t fucking blame her.”

  “What about…”

  “A two story stuffed donkey kong named I’m fucked wouldn’t even fix this!” I kept my words to a hiss and resisted the urge to slam my fist on the car. “And now I have to go in there and play saint fucking Lucifer.”

  He handed me the giant kitten. “Do what you can. We’re late to the final domination.”

  “Final?”

  He nodded, grim. “I can tell you now. The last two dominations happen at the same address.” He added a pained frown.

  “Do I know this address well?”

  He grimaced a bit. “You do, my friend.” He put a hand on my shoulder and nodded once. “You know it very well.”

  I rolled my eyes and dropped my head. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

  Steve hit the button on his keys and the locks disengaged. I opened the door and climbed in, only to have the giant cat get stuck in the door. I angled it tail first and pulled it in. “A gift for you.” I sat it on the floor between me and Tara and pointed to the name tag as I shut the door. “Sari is its name. I thought you’d like it.”

  “Sorry? Are you apologizing with this gift?”

  Wow. Gun to head. “Apologizing for what?”

  “Fuck you,” she muttered.

  “Okay,” I said, softly.

&nb
sp; Fifteen minutes into the dreadful ride there, her phone rang. She took it out and threw it at me. I looked at the text, dread making me sick. Make love to Lucian.

  Fucking bastards. No, fucking bitch. I knew without a doubt Danielle was behind this twisted bullshit. No fucking way anyone else would be so brutal.

  “I have to make love to you.”

  “You don’t have to do a damn thing,” she muttered.

  “Are you quitting?”

  “Fucking yes I am.”

  “Really? Fantastic. Let me tell Steve to stop now.”

  “You’re so thrilled to not have to make love to me.”

  “No, I’m so thrilled to not play this fucking game anymore.”

  She spun in her seat. “I get a make love to Lucian text, and you’re suddenly so sick of this game?” She spun back forward, her arms crossed over her chest, glaring out the window. “We’re not quitting dip-shit. We’re playing. You don’t want to make love to me? Too goddamn bad, you have no fucking choice.”

  “Oh now that is where you’re wrong, sweetheart. I have always had a choice and I can make it right fucking now.” I banged on the divider between me and Steve and the window lowered. “I’m done, I quit this game. Take me back.”

  She looked at me and I glared at her.

  “You thought I was stuck in this? Doing all this bullshit for me princess?”

  “Then why? Don’t fucking say for me mister, I think I’m not stupid. This is not for me.”

  “You’d be wrong.”

  “So this is all for me while you practically fuck that bitch in the lingerie department right in front of me!” She slammed her fists on the seat and Steve rolled the window back up, continuing to drive.

  “I was asking an innocent question. Why should that upset you if you trust me? Don’t you trust me? Don’t you know that I fucking love you?” God, I prayed, let her know.

  “Love!?” she shrieked, fury in her eyes. She launched at me, fists flying. I blocked her with my forearms, fighting to restrain her. She landed several punches in my face before I had my arms around her.

  “You busted my lip, sweetheart.”

  “Good!” she sobbed. “I hope I did! I hope it hurts, you bastard!” The final words barely squeaked out.

  I fought with all my might not to say sorry. “I love you baby, how can you doubt me?” I gasped in her ear. “How the fuck?”

  “Because—”

  “Shhhhhh, shh. Don’t fucking say it. Just know that, no matter what, I love you.” I rocked her in my arms until she was still. Dead still.

  “We better do this assignment,” she said, her tone flat.

  “Are you sure?” I asked.

  She removed her clothes and laid on the seat like a slab of meat offering. And yet all I could think of was taking that offering. Showing her what she meant to me.

  I got undressed and began at her feet. I worshipped her sweet body with my lips and tongue, letting my fingers dance softly and reverently along her skin. Her body betrayed her resistance, raising goosebumps on her flesh. I bypassed the juncture of her thighs, and I bypassed her breasts, hoping she knew it wasn’t sexual for me. It was her. All her.

  I kissed along her face, willing the flood of my emotions into her. Silently begging her to believe in me. Trust in me. I finally covered her body with mine and she didn’t embrace me.

  I put my forehead on her shoulder and stroked along her entrance. Amazing how my body refused to not be aroused even while my soul wept in agony. I entered her quickly, hoping to break through, needing to. For both of us. We were fucking drowning together. Don’t drown baby. Please hold on.

  I commanded her desire with deep kisses and thrusts until she was my Tara again. Clawing, moaning, devouring me back. Like she needed me. Wanted me. Loved me.

  I pressed my face into hers and clenched my eyes shut, moving inside her heat, thankful her body realized what her mind didn’t. This might be a small victory, but I clutched at it with everything in me.

  Too soon, she came undone around me, shuddering in her orgasm, and my body refused to be left behind. The freight trained slammed into me and I poured into her before the final spasms left her.

  Fearing my weight would crush her, I shifted to my side, tugging her with me until she lay half on me, her head pillowed on my chest. “Don’t forget, I love you, baby.”

  Tara didn’t reply and exhaustion from the past… I had no clue how many days, rolled over me, insisting I stay still for a bit. I closed my eyes and let my breathing even out, hoping for a little sleep. Just before I surrendered, I felt dampness on my chest. Oh God. I realized she was crying. Hot tears burning my skin and heart. All while she didn’t make a sound.

  Chapter Twelve

  After we woke, Steve stopped at yet another convenience store so we could clean up a little. Couldn’t show up for my crucifixion smelling like sex. I put on the khakis and polo they’d directed I wear for this. Could they get any further from what I’d normally wear? Despite my disgust, I couldn’t help the little thrill of anticipation from wondering what they’d given Tara to wear.

  I left the restroom and headed for the car, dread dogging my steps. Every instant drew me closer to the kind of misery that drove people insane. Between what the game was doing to Tara and me, and having to face my father, confront him even, I couldn’t imagine much of anything worse. I was sure there must be something, but fuck if I knew what it was.

  I waited beside the rental car, reluctant to get inside it one instant before I had to. So I stood in the hot early evening sun and just waited. I would miss the limo for this part of the journey. No more privacy, no more of Tara’s scent filling the air.

  Tara came out of the store and my heart stood still. She was in an almost sheer white blouse and a blue skirt that flowed about her lower calves, swaying with every step she took. She’d slicked her hair into an elegant style and applied makeup. She fucking took my breath away.

  Struck entirely dumb, all I could do was open the car door for her. She slid inside without a word and all the way over to the other side. I climbed in after her as Steve left the store, dressed so casually I hardly recognized him. He got behind the wheel and we were under way once more, the tires eating the miles way too quickly.

  My heart sped up when we turned into the long drive leading to my parent’s ranch. Seven in the evening. We had to spend the fucking night. Steve had come with a cover story for his presence. He was Tara’s chaperone, paid for by her grandmother since it was a sleep over. Not allowed to sleep together, fucking stupid cover story. Tara kept her normal life story, I kept mine. Oh and it was my mother’s birthday party, the one I’d been invited to the day I found the Dom Wars ad in the paper. How fucking quaint and convenient that turned out. Almost…planned. By that bitch named Danielle, I was more sure than ever.

  Tara sat once again at the far side of the car and I sat like granite on my side. It was me, all me, on this. I never needed anybody before and I wasn’t going to start needing them now. Even I wasn’t dumb enough to believe the lies I kept telling myself, but it wasn’t like I had much choice.

  The drive to the house caught me by surprise. Nothing had changed in the several years since my last visit. The orchard to the left was still carefully pruned, obviously still producing, judging by the braces ready to support the heavy branches as the fruit grew larger. The live oaks along the drive were the same as always.

  “Beautiful,” Tara whispered, looking all around. “Just beautiful.”

  It should be an amazing evening, my first time bringing her home. The woman I loved. And I couldn’t even enjoy it. But I’d have to pretend I was having a joyful good time. I welcomed the anger burning in my bones and mind, igniting my thoughts and making them into fire whips of blame. I mentally lashed out at my bastard father. Ex-military religious nut. He was like a fucking…Hitler Dom. Women were to be seen not heard, possessions to be kept not treasured. To be controlled, not nurtured. To be forced, not inspired. A reflection of hi
s needs and desires. Never hers. Unless it made him feel good.

  And my brother. Couldn’t wait to introduce the narcissistic, sexual predator, drug jock pig to Tara. And here I was, the prodigal son. Only, Jared was the one loafing off of dad’s fortunes while I made a living with the swine. Yet, I was the prodigal fucking son? Fuck them.

  My nerves settled a little when I thought of mom. Turning sixty. Wow. How time flied. I bet she was still beautiful as ever though. Miss Texas in 1976. Lucky me, I was the only child that had taken after her looks. The oddball.

  Lucky me, I inherited nothing of my father. And boy did he resent that. No way was I his son. No son of mine doesn’t play sports. No son of mine is into girl things. That qualified as books. Music. Philosophy. But that would be his fault and I had that to thank him for. From the earliest that I could remember, he made sure to tell me I didn’t fit into the family. Only my mother cared and encouraged me. And she took heat for that shit too. Everything I did brought bad, no matter who or what I was, it wasn’t right. Ever. And I paid for it physically, mentally, and emotionally.

  And yet, I was still Lucian fucking Bane. And that was because I’d inherited one thing from him. His dominance. And thank fuck, I’d used it to make sure I would never be like him. Thank fuck I’d learned to control who I was with my intellect, not my religious dick.

  Steve whistled when the Texas style mansion came into view. “Wow. What a place.” His Georgian accent came through as he put the car in park and turned to us. “Remember the cover story?” He went over the details like a gentle father talking to his favored children. I realized suddenly that was why I liked Steve. He was a nice man. Genuinely. “Oh and don’t be alarmed with any information I dish out. I had to create an entire fictional life for myself to make this look authentic.” I could swear he paled, just a little. “You called them, correct?”