The Love She Craves: Selling Her Soul to Declan

by Gemma Jenkins

He lowered his head until his forehead touched hers. “If you ever talk about yourself like that again, I’m going to cane you so hard you won’t sit for a week,” he said into her ear. “You are none of those things your parents were. You did not turn out like your sister. And how you managed that, I don’t know. You deserve nice things because you have lived through it all and come out a good person with a loving heart.”

  She sobbed into his shoulder. “N-no,” she hiccupped. “Cody got hurt because I neglected him. I-I knew I shouldn’t leave them alone. I deserved to have them taken away.”

  “Dang,” the waiter said from behind Declan. “Usually people only cry when the food’s gone.”

  Although Declan appreciated the man’s attempt at humor in an awkward moment, he barely glanced in his direction. “Please, package that up to-go for us with two teas no lemon and extra ice.”

  “Sure, did you want to cut into them and make sure the steaks are cooked the way you like?”

  “No.” His tone was curt.

  “Unsweet tea, right?”

  Declan felt Nyxie’s body hiccup as if she chuckled through her tears. “Right.” He waited until the man left before he turned his attention back to her. “Well, I could punish you for letting Cody get hit by a car if it would make you feel better. But frankly, my heart wouldn’t be in it. Or we could think of this logically. If you hadn’t been working, would you have been outside watching him or in the house?”

  “I-I don’t know,” she said trying to stem the tears. “I usually let him go ride his bike alone with Levi and give him some boy-time away from the girls.”

  “Do Levi’s parents watch over them?”

  “No, not unless they’re out working in the yard.”

  “And if you had been out there, would it have changed anything? Could you have stopped that truck?”

  “Maybe I would’ve seen it coming and been able to shout to him or maybe I could’ve pushed him out of the way.”

  “Or maybe you couldn’t change a thing,” he said gently. “Or maybe you would have jumped out there and been killed. Thankfully, he wore that helmet. It saved his life. If you had been there, nothing would have changed, not one damn thing, Nyxie. The state was wrong to take them away.”

  She pushed away from him. “But when you spanked me with the belt….”

  “I knew you felt guilty. I thought if you felt like you had been punished, you’d feel better.”

  She laughed shakily. “That’s sweet in a warped kind of way.”

  “Warped? Wait until I get you home.”

  He kissed her briefly and dried her cheeks with his thumbs. “Feel better, baby?”

  She nodded. “Big baby is more like it. I think I’ve done more crying in the last few days than I have in the last few years.”

  “It’s been a rough time and I’m sure the implant in your arm has your hormones all confused, too.”

  “You have a medical reason for everything,” she said sniffling.

  “Wait until you see how I put my medical knowledge to work tonight,” he said sliding out of the bench as he saw the waiter approaching with their boxed up meals and drinks.

  “I slipped you a few fresh rolls,” he said rifling through his folder for their ticket.

  Declan barely glanced at it before pulling three twenties out of his wallet. “Keep the change.”

  Nyxie stared at the money until the waiter tucked it away in his folder. There were weeks when she fed her whole family for less than that and Declan thought nothing of spending that much on one meal for two people.

  21

  As they drove to his townhouse, Nyxie tried to think of something to talk about, but other than apologizing for ruining supper, her mind was a blank—or more accurately her mind was fixated on what they would be doing later. When she realized her hands were shaking, she tucked them under her thighs.

  “You’re not fixin’ to freak out on me, are you?” he asked.

  “Do I look like I’m fixin’ to freak out?” she asked curious why he thought so. In many ways, he seemed more attuned than she was to the inner workings of her mind.

  “When CPS took the girls, you folded yourself in two, hugged your legs and rocked. You just put your hands under your legs and started rocking.”

  “Shit,” she said as she withdrew her hands and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m nervous.”

  “Would it help if I admitted I’m nervous, too?”

  Her eyes grew wide as she eyed him. “You?”

  He reached his open hand across the console and waited for her to uncross her arms to take his hand. He gave her hand a little squeeze. “Sure. Not only do I have the responsibility of initiating you into the lifestyle, I am also going to be your first sexual encounter of any kind. I know a lot of the baggage you’re carrying, so I’m worried I’ll unintentionally hit on some trigger that’ll send your brain into zombie mode. Plus, you hide your pain so I’m afraid I might push you over your limits.”

  “Oh.”

  "Promise me you’ll always remember to use the safe words; yellow if you’re getting to your limit and red if you want me to stop immediately.”

  “I’ll remember,” she said sounding more nervous than before.

  “Not that we’ll even attempt to test limits anytime soon. That’s a challenge for us when I’ve earned your complete trust.”

  She laughed nervously. “Thank God, you had me worried with all this talk of safe words and pushing my pain limits.”

  “I also told you we weren’t going to have intercourse until you’re more ready and we have something to celebrate. Today, I think we’ll work on your trust. Are you up for that?”

  “I don’t know if I’ll ever be up for that,” she said. “But I’ll try.”

  He exhaled in an over-exaggerated sigh of exasperation. “This is my place,” he said stopping at a four-way stop and pointing to a three-story pseudo-Victorian reproduction house like many in the neighborhood—the result of urban renewal. It looked a bit out of place in a city founded in the early twentieth century.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said looking through the light cast by the antique-replica streetlight to the large house with its white picket fence.”

  He turned the corner and pulled into the alley behind the house, hitting the remote for the garage. As he pulled in, Nyxie realized it wasn’t a single residence.

  “It’s a duplex?”

  “Semi-detached townhouse.”

  “What’s the difference?” she asked as he parked next to his Jeep.

  “I own it,” he said with a wry smile realizing there really was no difference and if the realtor had called it a duplex, he probably wouldn’t have bought it.

  “Oh. Do you have good neighbors?”

  He smiled with a rather enigmatic grin. “The best.”

  Declan climbed out of the sports car and came around to open her door. He took the meals from her and helped her out.

  “Mi casa es su casa,” he said. “Come on. I’ll show you around.”

  The garage door closed as they entered into a utilitarian mud room. He sat down on the bench and removed his shoes. “Take your shoes off. Stay for a while.”

  Nyxie never untied her shoes. She toed the heel with one foot and pulled her foot out and did the same with the other.

  There was a large rectangular wire basket under the bench containing various sports equipment mostly different balls, but also a pair of bats and a baseball glove. Empty brass coat hooks protruded from an oak board, suspended over the bench.

  He pushed her shoes next to his and led her into the kitchen. The kitchen was ultramodern with appliances concealed in cabinetry.

  “Fridge, dishwasher, trash,” he said pointing in various locations. “Oh, let me show you the pantry. This is where you go for a tornado. It has concrete walls. There’s also a steel door with a deadbolt and door bar so I suppose if there were ever a home invasion, it’s a safe place to hide if you can get in here.”

  “Oh, okay. Goo
d to know.”

  He moved further into the small room. “Down here, on this shelf that’s half hidden by the freezer, is a lantern, a wind-up flashlight and a weather radio. I don’t turn it on unless the TV goes out—the thing drives me nuts, but there is also an old cell phone in here, too. Even ones with no service can be used to call 9-1-1.”

  Nyxie nodded. She already knew about old cell phones calling 9-1-1, but realized he thought because she’d never had one before, she couldn’t have known. She read about it in the newspaper when the Women’s Protective Services held a cell phone drive.

  “Do you suppose we can finish the tour later? I’m starving.”

  “Of course.”

  They were soon eating at the dining room table, straight out of the foam containers using utensils from a drawer.

  After she ate about two-thirds of her meal, she set her fork and knife down. “I’m stuffed,” she said putting her hand over her stomach. Her eyes widened with surprise as a giggle percolated to the surface. “I swear I can feel my stomach protruding. Here, give me your hand.”

  As he stretched his hand towards her, he gave her a dubious look which turned into surprise when he realized the hollow beneath her sternum was not so hollow—in fact, it stuck out ever so slightly beyond her ribs.

  He slowly began untying the dress shirt he’d put her in and when it was laid open he pushed up the ribbed tank top until he could see her abdomen. With a soft chuckle, he kissed the swell of her stomach.

  She laughed pushing him away. “You act like you put a baby in me not a meal.”

  “It feels good to know you had enough to eat and it was healthy for you. It would surprise you to know, I’ve wondered many times since I left Chimera Flats about whether you were getting enough to eat. Anytime I went to see my folks I kept my eyes open for you.”

  “Stalker.”

  He shrugged. “I wish I had been. Maybe I would have been able to help if I knew everything.”

  “It was only really bad after Mama disappeared until I got a job. I can’t say a lot of nice things about her, but she kept us fed and the rent paid.”

  Declan sighed not wanting to point out that Nyxie still didn’t have enough to feed them all. He needed to do what he could to make sure she and her family never went hungry again.

  Declan stood up and held his hand out to her.

  “I’d throw you over my shoulder and cart you upstairs, but I’m afraid you’d ralph down my back.”

  She held her hand over her stomach taking in a deep breath. “I probably would,” she admitted with a nervous laugh.

  He led her up to his bedroom on the third floor. The door to his room was on the second floor, but immediately opened to a staircase. The steps came up at the edge of the room completely walled off for privacy as there was no hallway or other bedrooms on the third floor. The main part of the room was L-shaped; one area used as a seating area, the rest a traditional bedroom.

  It was no playroom—like the book she was reading, but instead a rather ordinary bedroom with a huge four-poster bed. A leather bench had been placed at the foot of the bed and an armoire broke up the space on an otherwise empty wall.

  “Why don’t you go shower while I get things ready. Leave your hair the way it is. You can wash it in the morning.”

  She started to ask him where her clothes were but realized she wasn’t going to need them until morning.

  It barely took ten minutes to shower without washing her hair. The water wet the braid but she didn’t unplait it. She stepped out feeling clean and smelling of his body wash. Her clothing had been taken away and a large soft towel had been placed within easy reach of the huge multi-headed shower. She dried herself as slowly as possible with trembling hands, putting off emerging as long as she could. With the towel wrapped around herself, she finally came out.

  “Go hang the towel on the rack in there.”

  “But….”

  “Are you going to start arguing with me already? You are not going to like the consequences.”

  “No, sir. Sorry,” she called as she scurried to do his bidding.

  After putting up the towel, she stood slightly out of sight trying to figure out a way to cover up before entering. If her hair was down….

  “Nyxie, get the fuck out here. I already saw you naked once. This stalling is pissing me off. Do you really want to piss off your Dom?”

  Her reaction was immediate. She stepped out of the bathroom quickly.

  “Come here.”

  As she approached, she spotted several bundles of red rope on the bed. Her mouth went dry. “I-I don’t know if I can do this.”

  “What are the safe words?”

  “Red and yellow.”

  He stepped behind her and clamped one hand on each side of her head tilting it down. Raising her hands behind her head, he told her to lace her fingers together. His large hands ran along the length of her arms and stopped when he came to the wet Band-Aid covering the butterfly bandage where she’d gotten her birth control implant. He pulled off the plastic strip then disappeared down the stairs and returned with a clean dry bandage which he expertly applied.

  “You’re going to hyperventilate if you keep breathing that fast. Slow it down. Long, slow breaths. Better.”

  He gave her a playful smack on her tush with his open hand.

  “Normally,” he said, “you’ll kneel down if you have to wait for me, but I think we’ve both waited long enough already.”

  “I could wait longer,” she said and received a not so playful smack on her ass and a quick peck on the lips which only confused her.

  Declan picked up his first rope. When he unbundled it, she was amazed at how long it was and how much pooled on the floor. He doubled it over as he worked, tying the soft rope around her in a bra-like harness—over her shoulders, above, below and between her breasts—tightly tied and expertly knotted.

  “Were you a Boy Scout?”

  “Goddammit, Nyxie, I may not like ball gags, but I have no objection to duct tape.”

  “Sorry, I make jokes when I’m nervous.”

  “Funny, your jokes sound an awful lot like your usual smartass comments,” he said giving the rope a hard tug to tighten it before he tied the final knot. He reached for the next rope. “Put your arms behind your back.”

  She clasped her hands just above her bottom and Declan quickly bound her wrists together and then tied her elbows together, making her arch her back in a decidedly uncomfortable position. She looked down at her relatively flat chest.

  “I don’t think it made any improvements,” she said.

  “Open your mouth, sub,” he said coolly.

  She opened her mouth and he wrapped her damp braid around her head and used a rope to secure her hair gag in place.

  “Kneel on the bed.”

  Normally, he would have helped his sub maneuver in the awkwardly bound position, but Nyxie always seemed to want to fight him at every turn.

  She managed to get her first leg on the bed with no trouble, but fell forward across the mattress when she tried to get the other leg in position. He watched in amusement as she pulled her legs under her and pushed herself to a sitting position using her head.

  “Face me.”

  She whipped her head around and he saw the you’ve-got-to-be-fucking-kidding-me look she gave him before she could hide it. It earned her another slap on her ass.

  She inched her way around the shifting surface of the mattress, nearly falling off at one point when her knee was at the edge. Luckily, Declan caught her and put her to rights, helping her into position facing him.

  “Sit back on your feet,” he ordered.

  She watched the concentration in his face as he bound her lower leg to her upper leg. The ropes bit into the soft tissues of her thigh. Without question, the intensity with which he tied her, was the same passion and focus he brought to the football field and medical school; so type-A, so the opposite of her.

  When he finished tying her second leg the
same as the first, frog-style, she found the only things she could move were her head and her hips. He pushed her backwards with a grin. She winced slightly when her shoulders pulled as she landed on her elbows and forearms. Declan moved her knees apart and lowered his head between her legs. He licked the outer lips of her sex then delved his tongue between the folds and licked again.

  A moan, soft and husky, came from behind her gag as she experienced her first forays into oral sex.

  He chuckled and lifted his head. “That was to be your reward for being good while I tied you up. But as I remember it, you are nothing but lippy.”

  He grinned at her, seemingly pleased by her silence and his small revenge. He took a large throw pillow off the bed and tossed it on the floor at his feet, then reach for her, grabbing handfuls of rope. Easily hefting her up, he paused, the ropes preventing her from dangling unwieldily.

  “I keep forgetting how light you are. I could just throw away my barbells and use you.”

  Her eyes met his as if she wanted to say something. His grin became a smirk knowing not being able to comment undoubtedly annoyed her as much as her constant chatter irritated him.

  He set her down on her knees on the pillow.

  “Nyxie, you look so sexy like that. I’d love to take a picture and use it as wallpaper on my computer.”

  Her eyes open wide as she tried to verbally protest. He bent down and kissed the top of her head.

  “Don’t worry, baby. I’m just as reluctant to have this come out as you are. I would never take a picture of you like this where you were recognizable. If I were to take pictures, they would either be super close-up or they’d be ones where your face was obscured. Either way, I’d only take them after you learn to trust me.”

  He left her there as he crossed to the open armoire. Inside were hooks with a belt, a riding crop, two different floggers, an eerily familiar-looking paddle and a few other tools of the trade. Her sex clenched with fear and excitement. Her eyes fixated on one item and then the next, wondering what it felt like to be struck with each one. Was the pain from one, the same as the next? She doubted it.

  Nyxie was so fixated on the implements; she barely registered Declan’s return to her side until he began untying the rope that held her braid in her mouth.