The closet doors are open in my bedroom. Some of my clothes are on the floor, the hangers in a pile along with my dress shirts and pants. I check the open chest drawers, all of them empty. She left nothing behind, nothing I can use as an excuse to see her again.
Scarlett hates me for what I have done. And she should. I am a bastard. My soul is so dark and hardened, blackened from the years of physical and mental abuse from my father. I’m incapable of love because I have no clue what it feels like to love someone who loves me back.
All of my submissives had developed feelings for me over time. Just like Scarlett. They always want more. But I never felt a thing for them in return. Not until now. The pain that stirs in my chest is nothing more than fear, longing, and loss. It will go away.
I finish scanning the bedroom, hopeful for something of Scarlett’s. She left one thing. Her ring. The tungsten ring I gave her, the piece of jewelry that declares her as mine. My submissive. My property. And now, she’s gone.
I lift the band from the nightstand on her side of the bed and sit down on the mattress. Scarlett left ten minutes ago, and I miss her already. I fucked up. She deserves someone who can love her the way she needs to be loved. Not an animal that fucks her until she bleeds. Not a man who bruises almost every inch of her skin and has the nerve to call them love marks.
Nothing is loving about the things I did to her. The things I will continue to do to her if she stays with me. I shouldn’t want her, but I do. She completes me in ways I never thought possible.
Pressing the tiny band between my fingers, I sink back onto the mattress and lay my head on Scarlett’s pillow. It still smells of vanilla and the perfect scent of her skin. Now, I’m the one who is fucked. I have to get her back.
Scarlett
With my head lowered in shame, I drove to the nearest hotel and booked a room for the week. I couldn’t drive to my parents’ house after what Aiden did to me. I’m a sobbing, disgusting mess, with my hair all over the place and makeup caked on my face. Even the hotel clerk gave me a strange look when she took in my appearance.
I look about as good as I feel on the inside, which isn’t saying much. Aiden left marks that go further than my skin. He pierced my soul, took a part of me that I wasn’t sure I wanted to give, and made me live to regret the decision. I told him it was okay, but was it?
He took things too far. Aiden claimed a part of me that had never been claimed by another man. I gave myself to him willingly. Along with my body and heart, I gave him my trust. And he abused it. Now, I understand the purpose of the safeword. Still, being able to use a word to bring him back to reality wasn’t enough when he had already taken things too far.
I lean back against the warm porcelain, soaking in the oversized tub. My body aches from the number Aiden did on me. It took me a while to get the bleeding to go down, the pain from our rough anal sex too much for me to bear. The water helps to relieve me of some of the aches and pains. Too bad it can’t take away the ones in my heart.
Aiden wrecked me from the inside out, and then had the nerve to dismiss me, tell me to leave. I knew from our sessions that he had a dark past. But I thought I could fix him. I had hoped that by sacrificing my body we could build a bond between us, one that would heal us both.
The Lowes Hotel is my new home until I find someplace better to move. At least Aiden doesn’t know how to find me. He’s already called my cell phone ten times and left apologies on my voicemail. I stopped listening to the messages after the third one. His words mean nothing. Words without actions to back them up have no value. They just become words.
My back throbs from the pain of being bent over and fucked senseless. I didn’t want to use my safeword, but Aiden had left me no choice. I could feel my body tearing along with every shred of my sanity. The warmth of the water helps to take the edge off though I doubt the stinging aftereffects will dissipate anytime soon.
The ding of my cell phone causes me to jump. Aiden hasn’t given up since I left the apartment. Is this a game to him? Does he only want me back to prove a point? That I am his property. When he gave me that ring, he claimed me, and I allowed him to put his marks on me. He exerted his dominance in every way he knew how, all while stripping me of my dignity. Aiden Shaw broke me. I never thought I would allow someone to hurt me in such a way.
I was never meant to be submissive when I am dominant by nature. But I lowered my guard, all for the sake of finding a cure for Aiden. My experiment proved that people like Aiden do not change. He doesn’t have a sex addiction. There’s no course of treatment for deranged asshole.
Until he comes to terms with his past, Aiden is a lost cause. I’ve treated plenty of men like him, but none that require this level of sexual gratification. Unless he can control the entire situation and everything in it, he has no power. And that lack of power drives him crazy. That’s why he punished me for Mark showing up at my office. I had no say in the matter.
After another missed call, I push myself up from the tub and almost fall forward. I grab hold of the wall to stabilize myself, my legs still too shaky to stand on my own. I doubt even Aiden realizes how much damage he has done this time. Scars and bruises in hidden places are one thing, but my pride is another.
I wish I could turn back time and go back to when I gave Aiden permission to hurt me. Because I would tell him no. I would set my own rules. We would do things my way.
After I dry myself off, I wrap the towel around me and take in the sight of myself in the mirror. The black-and-blue marks on my shoulders remind me of when Aiden fucked me a few nights ago. They match the ones he imprinted on my hips and thighs.
I touch my shoulder and drag my fingers along my collarbone, thinking of Aiden. Even after what he did, I can still feel him on my skin. Heat travels beneath my fingers, the burning fire I have for Aiden setting my body ablaze. Despite the fear and pain that rushes through my body, pleasure spreads through me like wildfire as I run my hands over my chest. The towel falls to the floor, as I continue to navigate every place Aiden ever touched.
Why do I want a man who has the power to make me bend to his will? I never thought I could be so turned on by his sadistic ways. Maybe we have more in common than I realize. I like it when Aiden pulls my hair, spanks my ass, and tells me that I am his good girl. I shouldn’t, though.
As a doctor, I know better. His tendencies are part of a much larger problem, one that I keep feeding. The hunger that burns inside Aiden has transferred to me. I run my hands down my breasts and tug at my nipples, loving how much it hurts when I squeezing them between my fingers. They’re still slightly discolored from Aiden pinching them to death with nipple clamps. But I love the pain.
The things he has convinced me to do with him and to him still amaze me. I suck in a deep breath from the pleasure that rushes over me, my body still belonging to Aiden. I should hate Aiden and everything about him, but I don’t. Not even a little bit. Missing him already, I slide my hand down my stomach and between my legs. Rolling my thumb over my clit, I stare in the mirror and watch myself.
I study the rise and fall of my chest, the hardening of my nipples, and the power Aiden still has over me. Aiden did this to me. He made me wet and hungry with greed. But I can’t go back to him. Not until he makes a few changes in his life. I want him so bad I can practically feel his tongue, as I glide my fingers along my slick folds, testing my wetness. His fingers become mine once I slip them into my pussy.
I lean forward and press my palm to the countertop, bracing myself for the surge of adrenaline that floods my veins, commanding control over me. My heart speeds up, and a pulse-pounding rush of energy causes my body to tingle.
“Fuck you, Aiden,” I whisper, out of breath. “Fuck. You.”
His name on my lips only forces me to work harder. I curse myself for loving Aiden and for wishing he was here to fuck me. Like Aiden, I am high from the power, consumed by my lust for him. I’ve pleasured myself plenty of times, all with Aiden in mind, but never like this. Sweat
drips from my brows, forming on my forehead, as I push my fingers further into me, working a feverish pace.
My fingers hit every pleasure point at once. The sensation is painful, almost too much to bear once my gums go numb and the sheer power of my orgasm takes hold of me. I moan Aiden’s name, the words heavy on my lips. I scream them so loud to purge him and everything about him from my system. With this orgasm, I cleanse myself of Aiden Shaw.
Aiden will not own me.
He will not break me.
* * *
After my last patient of the day, Brittany knocks on my door and pushes her way into my office. She closes the door behind her and comes toward my desk, focused, determined, and with a purpose. Brittany sinks into one of the chairs in front of my desk and crosses one leg over the other.
“Will you please talk to Dr. Sexy Voice already? I can’t take any more of his phone calls.”
I laugh at her comment. “Is Aiden still calling?”
“Yes. He’s so bossy and hot. I don’t know how you can resist him.”
I shrug against the chair. “It’s easy. I ignore him.”
“What did he do to piss you off this much?”
I turn my head away from her, refusing to respond. Brittany and I are close but not that friendly.
How could I ever admit to the things I let Aiden do to me? I’m too ashamed to tell anyone about our dark and destructive relationship. No one would understand. Only people like us would get the thrill that comes with handing over control to someone for the sake of pleasure.
“Sorry, that’s none of my business.”
“You’re right. It’s not. Aiden and I have a past. We couldn’t work out our differences.”
“You could still treat him. He’s your patient.”
“He was my patient. I discontinued his treatment. Aiden wasn’t getting better. In fact, he was getting worse. Some people you cannot fix. As a doctor, I hate to admit that, but it’s true. I can’t save everyone. They have to want to help themselves.”
“I will miss seeing his fine ass in this office.” Brittany licks her lips, as she thinks about Aiden in inappropriate ways, and then flashes me a bright smile.
Watching her drool over Aiden annoys me. As much as he wants to claim me, I want to do the same to him. Aiden is mine. I am his. We are meant for each other. But how can we fix what he broke? I can’t endure another week of the torture, let alone months or years. If I go back, what would that make me? His live-in whore, his submissive, his fuck toy for him to use and abuse.
I rub the spot where my submissive ring used to be and sigh. Not only do I miss Aiden, but I also miss the feeling of the cool metal against my skin. I would turn the ring every time I would think of Aiden. Now, all I feel is the void left behind by my loss. He wants me back. But is he willing to change? I doubt it.
The front doorbell chimes, the sound snapping me out of my Aiden induced coma. All week, I have been like this, unable to function and too sick to even eat. My thoughts constantly wander back to Aiden. I wonder if he’s with other women, which is none of my business anymore. I dream about his cock inside me. I imagine his hands on my body, his touch rough and possessive. Most of all, I hope he’s okay and hasn’t gone back to his destructive ways.
Brittany gets up from the chair and peeks down at me. “I’ll be right back.”
I nod, daydreaming about Aiden as she walks away. For the longest time, Aiden was obsessed with me. It’s funny how the tables have turned. No matter how hard I try, I can’t get him out of my head.
A few minutes later, Brittany strolls back into my office with a massive bouquet of black roses. The arrangement is so wide I can’t even see her face.
I shake my head at the present from Aiden. Who else would send something so ridiculous? Of all the colors, he had to choose black. This is about as close to romance as Aiden will ever get.
“Special delivery,” Brittany says, as she sets the flowers on my desk. “Who the heck sends black roses to someone? What an odd choice.”
“I have an idea,” I mutter, laughing to myself.
I lean across the desk to pluck the card from the plastic stem and smile as I lift the note. Nervous energy shoots through my body, pouring over me in waves. I haven’t listened to a single message from Aiden in days. But this time, his words mean something.
You get me, Scarlett, down to the blackest part of my soul. I miss you. I’m a bastard. Please forgive me.
-Aiden
I hug the card against my chest, the chills from his words sending a shiver down my spine.
“Who are they from?” Brittany hovers over the flowers, trying to peek at the card as if she could even read Aiden’s note from a distance.
“Dr. Shaw,” I confess.
“He has a thing for you, huh?”
I nod. “We have a complicated relationship. I’ve known Aiden for over seven years. He was always different. Why would his flowers be?”
She laughs. “Black roses are cool but also a bit creepy. They remind me of Edgar Allan Poe and death.”
“And they remind me of dark love and obsession.”
“That must be a therapist thing that you and Dr. Shaw have going on.”
“You could say that.”
She chuckles to herself. “I would be freaked out if a man sent me black roses. I’d think he was plotting my death or trying to send me a message.”
I shake my head. “Not with Aiden. He’s not like other men.”
Aiden’s ring is black tungsten. Mine was, too, only thinner in width. The roses have so much meaning, even more so than his words. His actions are a start, but I’m not ready to forgive him. We can’t move forward if I go running back to Aiden after a week. He needs to understand that his actions have consequences.
Every bone in my body aches for Aiden and craves his touch. I am not submissive, yet I want to be his.
How can I be something I am not?
Aiden
Fifteen days, seven hours, ten minutes, and thirty-six seconds have passed since I pushed Scarlett away. I began apologizing by sending flowers and progressed to jewelry and clothes. None of it has worked. Scarlett hasn’t returned a single text message, voicemail, or email. I don’t blame her for hating me when I hate myself enough for both of us.
If only I could be different, the man she needs and wants in her life. Everything Scarlett did with and to me was all for my benefit. Did she ever get anything from our sick and twisted relationship? Does she love me or were those just words said in the heat of the moment? How could she love me and still walk away?
I glance at the stack of boxes in the corner of my office and sigh. Scarlett returned everything but the black roses. Maybe I should send another bouquet. Either she liked them or didn’t see the point in returning flowers that could wilt before someone had the chance to pick them up from her office.
A loud beep pulls me out of my thoughts that were supposed to be on the patient I am scheduled to treat in the next hour.
“Dr. Shaw,” Erica says, “what would you like for lunch? I’m thinking about picking up some sushi.”
“A bottle of pills and a fifth of whiskey,” I deadpan.
“Stop being such a weirdo before I have to come in there and set you straight,” she counters.
I’ve always loved the fight in Erica. She reminds me so much of Scarlett that depending on the day I either take comfort in her presence or loathe the sight of her. Every day is different. As each night passes without Scarlett in my bed, I crave her even more. She was the missing piece in my life. I just didn’t know it until she was gone.
“Can you fix me a coffee?” I sink back into the leather chair behind my desk and press my fingers over my eyes, sucking in a deep breath. “And add some Jack to it.”
She laughs. “One coffee, minus the Jack coming up.”
The line goes dead, but Erica works fast. She pushes open my door a few minutes later, strolling toward me with a mug in her hand and a smile on her lips. I used to love f
antasizing about Erica, especially on the days when she would wear too much clothing for my liking. But today, Erica does nothing for me. Scarlett has single-handedly killed my usual robust sex drive.
My dreams and fantasies are all filled with Scarlett and her delicious body. When I close my eyes at night, I imagine her face down on my bed with her ass up and my cock thrusting into her. Surprisingly enough, I don’t act on those thoughts. Just knowing how disappointed Scarlett would be in me eases my desires. All I want is her pussy. My hand is no match for how wet Scarlett gets for me.
Erica sets the mug on the desk in front of me with a smile. “Here you go, Boss.”
“You defied my order,” I spit back.
She rolls her eyes at me. “You are not supposed to be drinking in the middle of the day when you have a patient coming to see you. I was starting to like the new and improved Dr. Shaw. Don’t mess it up by day drinking.”
I raise my eyebrows at her. “New and improved? I haven’t changed.”
She sits in the chair across from me and crosses one leg over the other, holding her hand on her knee. “Yes, you have, Dr. Shaw. I’ve noticed a few differences since you started seeing Dr. O’Brien. She’s doing a good job.”
I take a sip of my coffee, my gaze fixed on her. “I haven’t changed one bit, Erica.”
“You stopped going out to lunch to meet women. That was a start.”
I snicker. “Who said I was meeting women?”
“Are you serious? I know you better than you think, Dr. Shaw.”
“Since you know me so well, what other changes have I made?”
This should be interesting.
“You stopped hitting on me, which was a relief. Some days, you were a bit too much for me. Now that you don’t run out on your lunch breaks, you’re on time for your patients. I know they appreciate that as much as I do because covering for you was becoming a job in and of itself.”
His to Break Page 14
