by Skylar Kade
“What are you doing here?” Her voice sounded tired, deadened.
“You left your door open,” he said, reaching his hand out to hers inch by inch. “You had me worried.” Hell, he still was.
“Oh. Thank you.” She moved to rise but didn’t get far before pausing. Her eyes darted to him then to the floor. “I seem to be having trouble… My legs…” Her jaw clenched so hard he thought he could hear her teeth grinding.
“Well, it just so happens that I’m in the business of helping damsels in distress.” Her tenuous smile reassured him. He slipped his arms under her back and knees and lifted her from the floor. God, it felt good to have her back in his arms, to be helping instead of frustrating her. “Couch or bed?”
“Couch, please.” Her words were muffled by his shirt. She had buried her face against his chest and, boy, did that boil the fear from his veins. He deposited her on the deep green couch, missing her warmth as soon as it was gone.
He rubbed his shirt where her head had rested. “Is there anything else I can do?” He wanted to make her talk about what happened.
She cleared her throat and ducked her head. “Don’t leave.”
“I’ll stay as long as you need, sweetheart.”
She was putting on a brave front, but he could feel the tiny tremors racking her body. He sat on the couch and stroked her hair. She’d always liked that during aftercare, for about two seconds before she decided she was done. It had always felt as if she were humoring him, allowing post-session cuddles to make him feel better.
Her eyes squeezed shut. “I’m cold,” she whispered.
He laid a hand against her cheek and it chilled him. He pulled the blanket from under the solid oak coffee table and wrapped her in it, thankful Kat kept thoughtfully stocked rooms. She tucked her head down and away from him. He tried not to feel hurt, but that failed as completely as the rest of his day had.
The room was silent as he slid one arm around her back and wrapped the other around her waist. Snow, illuminated by the balcony lights, fell in big, fat flakes to pile on the metal scrollwork railing.
“Snow’s coming down hard. Looks like no one will be leaving early this weekend.”
A strangled laugh worked free of her tight lips. “He’s here and I’m stuck.”
Alarm bells shrieked in his head but he silenced them, keeping his focus on soothing Hope. He ran his hand in circles across her back, worming his way under the blanket and then her blouse to touch bare skin. He buried his face in her neck and reveled in her sweet smell. Lavender, still.
He hardened in spite of the situation. Not the right time or place. Or woman, he reminded himself. “Baby, who’s here?”
“Master Joseph.”
A wave of hatred swamped him.
Gabe stayed silent, hoping she’d spill some information for once. “C’mere, baby, lie back.” She obliged and he enveloped her in his arms, watching the snow drift down.
This could have been heaven in other circumstances.
Her words broke the silence, but just barely. “He was my Master when I was young and stupid.”
He bit back a growl and waited for the rest.
“I was eighteen and he seemed so worldly. He guided me and protected me, at first. I felt loved.”
Her words made him burn with anger and jealousy.
“And then he said the real work was starting, that he needed to break me before I’d be of any use to him.” She laughed, but it was full of bitterness. “All I wanted to do was please him. Little did I know, all he wanted was a mindless slave to fuck and beat.” She slammed her fist against the couch. “How could I have been so stupid?”
“Baby, no.” He kissed the side of her forehead. “This was not your fault.”
“Yes, it was. I should have left, should have reported him, and now he’s got another slave, and who knows how many more before her, and what if he’s hurt them like he hurt me and it would be all my fault!” She beat her fists again and again, breaking his heart with each blow.
He lifted her onto his lap and held her wrists still in one hand. “It’s not your fault,” he snarled in her face. Her eyes went wide. In a softer tone, he finished, “And I don’t ever want to hear that again from you, do you understand, cara?” She nodded. “That’s my girl.” He let go of her wrists and tucked her head against his chest. “You’re safe now. Just relax.”
He reveled in the feel of her, rubbing his hands across her body. Whether to soothe her or himself, he wasn’t sure. Time passed and he felt some of the tension ease from her muscles.
“Why did you leave him?” he finally asked.
The fight seemed to go out of her. She laughed, a slightly crazed sound that broke at the end. “Why not tell? You know the rest of my fuck ups. The scar on my thigh. That was my breaking point.”
The silent, warm room stood in contrast to her agony and it nearly killed him.
“I was chained. He’d been flogging me, back and ass already aching. He decided to pull out the bullwhip.”
“Shit, baby, that’s no plaything.”
Another bitter laugh. “It was a hard limit for me. I like pain, but not like that. I safe worded after the first strike. That one hit my back, only left a welt.”
“Only left a… Dammit, Hope, I’m glad he’s here so I can beat the sick fuck.”
She gave the barest hint of a smile before it faded and she continued. “He said bad slaves don’t get to safe word. They need to take their punishments and deal with it. He laid a couple more strikes on my back before telling me to spread my legs. By that time, the pain had me cowering away in my mind, and not in a good way.”
He didn’t want to hear any more. It was no wonder Hope hadn’t wanted to talk about this.
“Got a nice hard slap for not moving fast enough. He chained my legs apart and the next whip landed on my thigh. Lucky for me,” she snorted. “Lucky, yeah. Master Joseph can’t stand the sight of blood. I should have gotten stitches, but he just unchained me and left. I asked for aftercare, for the first-aid kit, but all he said was ‘Damn shame, disobedient slaves don’t get aftercare’ before he stormed out.”
“Shit.” Gabe wanted to punch something, and he knew exactly who. That would have to wait. First, he wanted to make up for all the cuddles, the tenderness she’d missed out on. “Why were you being punished in the first place?”
She tucked her head against his chest, muffling her reply. “I’d asked him to make love to me.”
His blood chilled. “Baby…”
“Yeah. I was never allowed sex face-to-face, and it was never tender.”
He felt like the biggest bastard. “Is that why you left me?” He felt her nod. “Shit, I…that last night, I just wanted to see your beautiful face, watch you writhe and come under me, wrap you in my arms afterward, even though I could tell you weren’t comfortable with it. I’d never, ah, never wanted that before.” He rubbed a hand across his face.
“It wasn’t just that, Gabe. You saw too much. The questions were building in your eyes and I wasn’t ready to answer them. Took two years of therapy for me to even think about it myself.”
“I’m a selfish bastard.”
“And I’m relieved that I finally got to tell you. You were right—keeping secrets isn’t good for any relationship.”
His mother’s face floated across his mind but he shoved it aside. “What changed? Why share this now?”
She shrugged beneath his arm. “Self-preservation, maybe.”
“That’s not an answer. Try again.”
She looked up at him, reluctance painted across her face. “Before I passed out, all I could think of was you. That you could make it all better.”
Tears constricted his throat. “Hope…” He pulled her in tighter and kissed her forehead and her cheeks and her lips, savoring the taste of her skin, the flavor he hadn’t been able to erase from his memory. He so didn’t deserve her.
She sighed in his arms and snuggled closer to him. Her muffled voice said, �
��And you were right. I hit a situation I couldn’t run from.”
He smiled and tilted her chin up. “Wanna say that again?”
She attempted a laugh. That was his resilient girl.
“This is kind of my worst-case scenario. I can’t drive away from this mess, from him. Blasted snow. And…” She paused before cupping his cheek and meeting his eyes. Hers were so green and deep and open he wanted to fall right in and never leave. “Talking earlier helped. I’ve known for a while that I had to tell someone other than the woman I paid to listen to my whining. Well, she told me that, but I agreed. I’m glad it was you.”
He gave her a good squeeze, never breaking eye contact. He had his answers, his closure. Now would be the time to share his own secrets, but logic rebelled.
Gently pulling his arm from underneath her head, he shifted her from his lap back to the couch.
“Gabe, I…” She looked so small wrapped up in that soft, thick blanket. Innocent.
“I know.” He stood. “It’s time for me to go, and I think we both know that.” His chest tightened.
She rose and wrapped her arms around his waist. “See, I was going to say ‘I think I need you here with me.’” She bit her lip and looked at the floor. “I may have told you everything, but that doesn’t mean I’m all hunky-dory.”
He smiled, ignoring her first statement for the moment. “You know, you’re the only person who still uses that phrase.”
“Am not!” She smacked his chest, right where she’d been twining around his heart once again.
Oh, she was so asking for a little discipline. He froze, gave her a good, long stare, then grabbed her hand and pulled it behind her back. “Baby, did you just hit me?” he growled into her ear.
She shivered in his arms. “I, uh, well, I didn’t mean it like that—”
Her breathy words went straight to his groin and he ached to press himself against her. But there would be time for that later.
“Naughty girls don’t get to walk around free in this place, you know.”
Her breath whooshed out and her eyes fluttered closed. It looked as if she had been serious about keeping him there. He tightened his grip on her wrist, and her mouth parted in a soft, erotic sigh.
“Am I staying or going, baby?”
“Stay.” She popped open her eyes and he was drowning in green, unable to look away.
He let her go and took a step back. “Are you sure?” His heart sank at the betrayed look in her eyes. “No, honey, don’t think I’m rejecting you. I just want you to know what you’re getting yourself into.”
He pulled the cuff from his pocket. The light danced off the silver links and shiny green leather. When he’d made it, finding the perfect shade of green had taken weeks. “You’ll be mine until we leave. I won’t go easy on you or shy away from your past, because you know as well as I do you’ve still got shit to deal with. You’ll have your ass warmed and your nipples pinched and your hair pulled.” He knew this might not end well, but for two days with Hope? He’d take the chance of pain.
She swayed on her feet. “Yes.”
“Hold out your hand.”
He clasped the band around her pale wrist, the delicate veins beneath her skin seducing him. He wanted to find every blue line and trace it with his tongue. God, her creamy skin was beyond sexy.
“Thank you, Gabe.” Her lust-roughened voice, the way she said his name, drilled straight to his cock. He set aside the effect it had on his heart.
Katrina thought he’d been crazy, going so long without a woman, but now it made sense. His body knew what it wanted—Hope, and no one else. He didn’t know whether to laugh or lash out. Preferably at Master Asshole.
One arm wrapped around her tiny waist and the other grabbed her hair and tilted her head back. The beautiful line of her neck, the indentations of her collarbone made his cock throb.
He nipped her earlobe and her moan vibrated through his body. “One more thing, cara.”
“Yes, Gabe?” Another pulse of blood to his prick.
He licked the rim of her ear and she wrapped her arms around his neck and went boneless against him.
“Before we truly start, you have to know I won’t just play with you this weekend.”
“Oh no? Have plans for a Parcheesi tournament, do you?”
He let go of her hair to smack her ass. The crack, dulled by her pants, echoed through the room in time with her yelp. “I’ve missed your sense of humor. It provides so many opportunities for discipline.” He swatted her again and she yelped. “That was for your little smack on my chest earlier.” For a third time, his hand came down on her sweet rear and she sighed and arched into the spanking. “And that was just for me.” His grin felt feral, even to him. “And no, Parcheesi will have to wait, because when you’re not bound and getting punished, I’ll be fucking you silly. Starting now.”
She whimpered and it was the sweetest sound. He was afraid he’d bust the zipper on his jeans if she didn’t agree soon. She pressed herself against him and started lifting his shirt, but he needed to hear the words. “Yes or no, Hope.”
“Yes, Gabe,” she purred.
Hot damn, the weekend was looking up.
Chapter Seven
As soon as she’d agreed to his weekend terms, he’d carried her into the bedroom and settled her on the bed. Hope was dizzy with lust and joy. Telling Gabe about Master Joseph and her mother felt so good—but not as good as she’d feel in a bit.
She turned to him, wet with anticipation, wondering what would come next. He was always deliciously unpredictable. It was one reason why she’d been so enamored with him. Had been?
She ran from that thought faster than a seam ripped and yanked her brain to the here and now. Gabe snapped his fingers and pointed to the floor between his knees. Time to sink into that clear, pure part of her mind where nothing mattered but pleasing Gabe.
He could throw her into subspace with a look, a touch, a word. And he was the only one who’d been capable of doing so. Damn, had she missed it. Submission gave her an unparalleled freedom.
Sinking onto her knees, she couldn’t help but notice the uncomfortable-looking bulge behind his slacks. She rested her head on his leg as she used to when he was working at his desk, sketching his newest designs. He stroked her hair and everything drifted away but the feel of his muscled thigh, his hands running through her hair, and the arousal she could just barely smell.
He let her revel in the moment, and that, more than anything, reminded her of why she’d been broken when she left him in California. He was a Dominant who understood that it wasn’t all about his desires. She had loved him for it. Did love him for it.
And in that moment, cushioned by Gabe’s gentle dominance, the thought didn’t scare her at all.
“Okay, cara.” His voice barely broke the silence. “Wrists.”
She knew this routine by rote. Placing her hands against his chest, she held her breath until one then both leather cuffs buckled shut against her skin. Their weight grounded her in the moment.
They were the same cuffs she’d worn at home with him every night, the cuffs he’d made just for her after learning collars made her uncomfortable—Thanks, Master Joseph. Lighter than most but still substantial, the cuffs suited her in every way.
She tried not to wonder if any other sub had worn them in her absence, but the thought crept in and turned her stomach. They were hers, dammit, and so was he.
“You’re wearing too many clothes.”
The interruption of his command was welcome. And a thrill of excitement zipped through her, replacing her unpleasant thoughts. “Oh? Whatever will we do about that, Sir?”
Gabe froze and she tried to remember why he’d react like that, but her brain was all melty. She looked up at him, loving the view.
“So. You’re using ‘Sir’, now?” His eyes were cautious, waiting for her response.
“Mmm, I guess so.” She nuzzled into his leg, feeling small and protected.
“Eye
s up.” Her chin snapped up and she saw desire burned into every line of his face. “You never wanted to use that before.”
So much for sinking away into subspace. She gathered her wits about her. “It seemed to fit. Felt right. But I’m sorry if I—”
He yanked her to her feet and kissed her silly. “No,” he growled, “it’s just right. Now let’s get you naked.”
Hit with that tone, she’d have done anything he asked. Her nipples pressed against the lace of her bra, begging to be released. She reached for them through her shirt, rubbing the sensitive points…for about two seconds before Gabe snapped, “Hands behind your back.”
She twined her fingers together to make extra sure she didn’t reach for something, like Gabe’s zipper, and waited for his next move. She didn’t have to wait long.
Like a madman, he unbuttoned her shirt and flicked open her bra. The cool bedroom air on her nipples hardened them into little points. Gabe circled her like a hunter with its prey. Once he moved out of her sight, Hope let her eyes sink closed. She focused on the soft swish of his pants as he moved, the displaced air brushing across her flesh, the delicious smell of him.
Then his hands were on her, unclasping her fingers to remove her top and bra before he replaced her hands behind her back. A metallic snap later, and her wrists weren’t going anywhere.
“Damn you.” He knew how much restraints aroused her. He cleared his throat and she added, “Sir.”
“I warned you we were playing my game, baby.”
Warm hands landed on her skin, and Hope let her head fall back against Gabe’s strong chest. His fingers slid up and down her sides before landing on her breasts, heating the places the air had chilled.
He always felt warm to her, a luxury for someone who always wanted to wrap up in a blanket on a Los Angeles summer night.
The nights she spent with Gabe, she wrapped up in him instead.
His fingers drew ever-tightening circles on her breasts, and every pass he didn’t brush against her nipples made her wetter with anticipation.
