by Sarah Mosby
Table of Contents
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
DIRTY
DESIRES
Book Two: Crossed Lines
Sarah Mosby
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER 1 - Recall
CHAPTER 2 - Rebirth
CHAPTER 3 - Rewards
CHAPTER 4 - Return
CHAPTER 5- Restored
CHAPTER 6 - Reunion
CHAPTER 7 - Revealed
Summary: Getting Emily to go back to California was supposed to be the hardest part of Matthew’s mission to win back Amanda’s heart and for a while, it was. The Don had finally found a sub he wanted to collar; he was ready to move on. Their short time together had seen her quick initiation into her master’s ways and it was all going good until...
One phone call, one hour, and one night was all it took for everything to come crashing right down. When Amanda discovers a hidden envelope and Emily gets taken by Matthew’s older brother, untold secrets are revealed, the mended heart is yet again broken, and Matthew’s seduction comes to a screeching halt.
CHAPTER 1
He should have known that karma won’t play out in his favor. She has flirted with him for ten years and now that he finally has the opportunity to have everything he ever wanted, she is fucking with him again.
“Drive” Matt growls as he enters his car and glances back, through the heavy tint of the window at Emily and Amanda, who are still staring at the car as it pulls away.
He has waited so long for this moment. He has survived so much, searched for so long and now, he is certain he will lose the woman he wants to claim as his own.
She won’t be an ordinary sub. He has learned from Demarco that finding a well-trained submissive or breaking a newbie makes you hard in ways that seem unnatural, but neither can compare to having your soul mate depend entirely on you to provide protection, provision, and pleasure. He craves that kind of control; the kind of obedience and willingness that he has gotten for free, from all the submissives he has enjoyed before.
His mentor has taught him how to truly appreciate a woman and to have her truly appreciate him. He wants nothing more than a life with Amanda and when she called him Master, in the middle of an apartment that was way too small for the light she brought, his cock jumped up and took notice. He knew she was his. He knew it when he was sixteen, the night he told her he would leave her and he knew it two years later when he promised her he would come back. He meant every word of his promise to her then, but again, karma dealt him a serious blow; all it took was a shivering bitter drunk driver on a rainy night in California, and his ten-year memory of his life with her, was ripped away.
***
He wakes up in a room that was too dimly lit and with no idea where he is. As his eyes fight to adjust to the poor lighting in the room he realizes that it isn’t the light that is making his vision blurry.
“I can’t see,” He tries to say but his words come out instead in a garbled whisper of incoherent sounds. From the corner of the room, he hears shuffling before a strong male voice calmly informs someone close by that he is awake.
His jaw feels like he has been slapped by an eighteen-wheeler and the more he tries to move, the more frustrating he finds himself.
“What is going on?” More garbled nonsense. He tries to figure out where he is. He tries to remember who he is. He tries to remember the last thing he was doing that day and comes up completely empty, on all three attempts.
A bright red balloon starts expanding in his chest as he fights to dig himself out of whatever nightmare he is in.
“Hey, buddy, how you doing?” There is that steady male voice again. “It’s okay. You’re okay. Just relax.”
That doesn’t make him feel any better. He doesn’t feel like relaxing. He can’t see!
“How’s my patient doing?” A woman with a bird-like voice wearing very light perfume walks into the room. He follows her movements with his ears until he feels her cool fingers rest on his arm.
He mumbles again, louder this time and can feel a warm tear slip down his cheek as he tries to demand some clarity on just what exactly was going on.
“We’re sorry about that Matthew,” she whispers and he toys with the name as a puppy with a tennis ball would, in his mind. Matthew. That’s his name. He isn’t sure how he knows but he does, and he can feel that balloon slowly deflate. This woman is here to give him answers. He can feel her calming energy and it only works for a few more seconds before she starts talking again.
“My name is Doctor Anoushka. You’re in the hospital. Please don’t try to speak.” Her tone remains soothing but Matthew has always hated hospitals. He can sense that in the pit of his stomach. He doesn’t need his memories to tell him why.
“You were in a car accident. We had to reset your jaw, so it’s currently wired shut to help speed up the healing process and keep the jaw in place so it can heal properly.”
The balloon gets bigger the more she explains how his immobility is due to him being in a full-body cast and the temporary blindness, due to his eyes being bandaged after surgery.
He can’t keep track of the injuries listed or decide what inside him hasn’t been broken. He isn’t a kid that believes in miracles, but it does sound like him being alive, fits the bill of the miracles he has heard so many people talking about. If only he can just remember what happened.
He has so many questions that remain unanswered but he resigns himself to the silence that whatever wreck he has been in, leaves him in. And he stays that way, in and out of consciousness for more than a month.
The day his bandages come off is beyond emotional. The doctors have instructed that his eye bandages be removed last to prevent him from having to watch everything else happen.
Seeing the stark white room around him, and smelling the subtle fragrances of legacy cleaners that are not too harsh or even remotely acidic enough to be a public hospital. He slowly scans the room and pauses when he sees a man, standing at the edge of his bed, dressed in a business coat, with a light gray mustache and silver hair.
“We’re going to cut your wires now.” Says a woman with warm honey eyes, smooth brown skin, and silky black hair as she smiles down at him. The pin on her coat says Dr. Anoushka and he nods as they go to work freeing him from his cage. He slowly opens his mouth and rotates his jaw. He is free; all bandages, wires, and restraints removed, yet he has never felt so lost in his entire life.
“How are you feeling?” the man asks and Matthew stares at him, trying to figure out who he is.
“Do I know you?” he asks, speaking softly, afraid that the vibrations of his words will lead to his mouth falling apart.
The man nods and walks over to him. There is something commanding about the way he walks; as though he never has the need to rush for anything in his life; an air of control. Dominance. Power.
“We’ll work up to that. Do you remember what happened to you?”
Matthew shakes his head, “No.”
“Do you know where you are?”
“Hospital.”
“Yes, but so you know where the hospital is?”
Matthew thinks about it then shakes his head. He can’t remember what state he was in, besides confusion.
The doctor walks over to him and shines a light in his eyes, seemingly concerned by his responses.
“We’re going to have to do an MRI to get a better look at what’s going on up there,” she smiles but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. The man nods and the doctor fills out her clipboard before disappearing out of the room.
“Who are you?” Matthew asks the man, who
is now sitting with his leg crossed on the sofa across from his bed.
“My name is Demarco O’Donoghue.”
“Okay.” Matthew shrugs.
“Do you remember your name?” Demarco asks him.
“Matthew?”
“Your name is Matthew-Sean O’Donoghue.”
“Are we related somehow?” Matthew asks and Demarco nods.
“Yes. I’m your father.”
***
The confusion that greets Matthew on his first day of full consciousness, doesn’t get much better when he is released into Demarco’s care. The ride back to his mansion has been quiet and he catches the driver looking back at him several times.
When they arrive at Demarco’s estate, they drive down a long brick driveway lined with palm trees, passing beautiful gardens and artificial ponds. Matthew thought the California beaches he saw as they drove along the highway, will be the highlight of his day, but he is even more overwhelmed by the obvious wealth of his supposed father.
He can’t remember having a father and still can’t remember much even after a week of being held under observation. The doctors have found lesions in his brain as a result of the accident and minor swellings that have progressively improved.
By the middle of the week, he is starting to remember a few things, that all seem to be insignificant. He remembers playing with some kids in an old-looking house and having sleepovers in bunk beds. He remembers doing that a lot and figures Demarco must be a pretty cool rich man, to let his son associate with people that are so obviously lesser off than they are. For that, he earns brownie points.
When they enter the mansion, Matthew cranes his neck to see the highest point of the ceiling and admire the crystals of the chandelier.
“This way,” Demarco beacons and Matthew follows him up a set of stairs, cordoned off by the shiniest banister he has ever seen.
“This is your room.” Demarco opens the door to a room that looks nothing like his. There is no evidence that he has ever been there, but he walks in anyway.
“I’ll be downstairs if you need anything. Sophia is also available to assist you with anything you need.”
“Thanks.”
The world around him starts to spin as he sits on the bed. He leans back and closes his eyes to steady himself with a deep breath and that’s when he sees her for the first time.
Bright blue eyes staring up at him with admiration and soft lips that curve up into a smile. There are leaves in her brown hair as she shows him a ladybug she found on her shorts.
He digs around in his swollen brain for her name but comes up empty. The smile on her tiny face pulls at his heart. Maybe she is his sister. He promises himself to ask Demarco about her when he musters up the strength to go downstairs. And he does, except Demarco doesn’t seem to know who she is either.
As the weeks pass and his memories start to fall into place, he remains plagued by her face, her smile, her eyes, everything but her name or who she truly is and what she means to him.
***
Matthew spends his nineteenth birthday in a mansion with a man who proves to have more layers than society could ever predict. Demarco has explained that just a few weeks before his collision, Matthew had turned up at a restaurant he had been having dinner, with a letter from his mother, a photograph and a lot of questions.
“Young man, I have had several persons try to do what you’re doing right now. I’m not sure where the confusion started, but I am not that enviable a father. I don’t know who you are or what you want but I’m going to ask you to leave.”
“Amelia Stevens”
Demarco’s eyes twitched at the sound of her name. “What did you say?”
“Amelia Stevens. My mother was Amelia Stevens. I don’t know much about her. I know she cared about me enough to give me away and I know she cared about you enough to not tell you that I existed. It seems that dear old mother cared about everybody more than she cared about herself.”
Demarco had wrestled with the information before dismissing him and Matthew hadn’t bothered to chase after a father who didn’t want him. He had come in search of the family but he wasn’t desperate for acceptance. He was surprised when he got a phone call from Demarco a few days after their first encounter and things had progressed from there.
It seemed Karma didn’t want any family reunions, because the day after his meeting with Demarco, his taxi got thrown halfway across the highway and was wrapped around a pole thanks to a drunk driver. Matthew was the only one who survived the collision.
Now, as he sits in one of the living rooms of this 50,000 square feet property, with a chilled beer in his hand and a photograph of his mother, he wonders how differently, things would have turned out for him, if he was raised here instead of whatever dump he left some time ago. After a year, he has recalled most of his childhood experiences, but not all. He is solid up to about twelve years old but things get blotchy after that. He figures out that the girl with the blue eyes must be someone from the foster home, and simply lays that thought to rest. Demarco has introduced him to his brothers, Nathan, a tall lean muscled man of 26 years old, who stands at 6 ft. 2” and Jayd, a smaller version of Nathan with just as menacing a scowl. They aren’t keen on having a new brother, or the idea that their father apparently cheated on their mother, who has passed away a few years ago.
Matthew has asked Demarco about his relationship with his mother, but he is stone-walled every time. Demarco refuses to share any information, “it’s not yet time,” he always says, and Matthew leaves it there. He’ll have his answers eventually. He has gone his entire life without them. He can go on a while longer. There is no rush. He’ll get to know this man and figure out where he fits into his enormous world.
His answer comes two years later and it completely blows his mind.
CHAPTER 2
Music vibrates the cushioned walls of the dimly lit night club as Demarco and Matthew walk in. Matthew can feel the stares of the women strewn across the floor, as they cross the room. The air hangs heavy with the smell of perspiration and a strong combination of spirits. Bodies part like the red sea to grant them passage, as they make their way to the back of the club, where the real event will go down.
Loudness gives way to silence and the sudden shift in the temperature as the door closes brings all his senses into focus. From one corner of the room, he hears someone moan and his heart rate spikes instantly.
Demarco doesn’t seem to flinch as he continues walking, inching closer to a steel door.
“Welcome Mr. O’Donoghue,” a gentleman with a slight Irish accent and a trimmed ginger beard nods as they approach, “She’s inside.”
Demarco nods then turns to face Mathew who is still trying to put pieces together.
“There’s a theory I would like to test,” his voice is as low and controlled as it always is. Matthew raises an eyebrow, stares the man in the eye, and Demarco smirks.
“Behind this door, there’s a gift for you. If my theory is correct, you’ll know exactly what to do. If I’m wrong, we’ll move on from tonight as though it never happened. Are we clear?”
Matthew nods and the doorman slides the latch open.
Inside the room is pitch black and in the darkness, he hears the door close behind him.
What kind of gift is this? He stands there by the wall, steadying his breath before feeling along the walls for a switch. The walls are soft to the touch which confuses him even more. He is about to turn and head in the direction of the door when he hears a muffled sound across the room. He remembers the doorman’s words, “she’s inside” and turns his ears towards the sound.
“This is fucking ridiculous,” he mumbles after feeling around in the darkness for a few more minutes. “I need light!” He barks and the room floods with light immediately, temporarily blinding him. He hears the muffled sound again and as his eyes adjust, he sees her.
A small little thing with hair like a siren, falling all around her shoulders, down her chest,
barely covering her naked breasts. Matthew’s eyes grow wide at the sight before him.
What the hell is she supposed to be? A hooker? Has his dad really gotten him a hooker for his birthday?
“Demarco you are too rich for your own god,” he chuckles to himself as he slowly walks over to her. Her blindfolds are black, red and pure silk which go perfectly with the red lipstick she has chosen to wear. As he gets closer, he sees what appears to be a collar of some sort, wrapped around her neck and a red ball strapped into her mouth. Both of her hands are behind her, which only pushes her chest further out, making those perky tits even more inviting. Her feet are spread open and chained to the ground by links with Velcro straps on her skin. He can feel himself getting hard as his eyes wander from her breasts down to the dip of her navel. He appreciates the smoothness of her skin and the way it flushes with color as he gets closer to her. Her chest rises and falls with intensity as she tries to use all her available senses to find where he is in the room. His feet stop quietly beside her and he can see her shiver, before trying to inch in his direction. From behind her, he gets a better view of her restraints. The collar around her neck extends down her back and branches off into two small cuffs, which hold her hands firmly in place, just above her wrists. He gently strokes his finger just shy of the restraints and she jumps at the closeness of him. His cock jumps with her.
Matthew walks past her to examine the display on the wall before taking a second to examine the room. The walls are lined with dark navy blue velvet tufts and the ceiling has rails running along the full length, with links attached. There is a glass case about as tall as he is, filled with sex toys and implements along the entire right wall.
She is no hooker. He doesn’t yet know the term for what she is, but he has heard about women like her from other guys during his freshman year in college, and about the whole underground society. Clearly, those guys knew what they were talking about. Matthew can’t imagine Demarco taking part in anything underground. He seems too powerful to resort to hiding away from anyone. Still, as his fingers study the ridges and leather of the floggers behind little miss ‘trussed up and ready for whatever’, he can’t help but wonder. What is the theory he wants to test anyhow? That he knows how to fuck? That will be quite an insult. He may not have been born with a boner but he has figured a few things out along the way. He picks up a flogger and tests the weight in his hand. It feels light, easy to wield, with long leather lashes that look like they could do some serious damage.
