by Sarah Bailey
“What time is it?” she said, voice muffled by my t-shirt.
“Just after five.”
“Too early.”
I chuckled.
“Go back to sleep.”
“Mmm, okay.”
I was a little surprised she didn’t let go. If anything, she snuggled closer into my side and kept her face pressed into me. I closed my eyes, breathing deeply as she mumbled something about me being warm. I pulled the covers higher over us and stroked her hair.
Even though my body was still coursing with arousal, I found myself drifting off. Having her right there was soothing. Like she was meant to lay next to me whilst I fell asleep.
***
I jolted awake as the sound of my phone blaring in my ear made my brain hurt. I fumbled for it and switched off the alarm.
“Wine is bad,” came a groggy voice next to me.
I looked over at her with bleary eyes. Ellie’s head was buried under the covers, but she was still pressed right up against me. Despite the slight pounding in my head from drinking last night, waking up with her felt so ridiculously right.
“I should get up.”
She shifted, tugging the covers off her head and looking up at me.
“Did you want me to make you tea or something?”
I shook my head. What I needed was to get back to my flat to change. I’d sort myself something out on the way to work.
She didn’t say anything else, just extracted herself from my arm and sat up, rubbing her eyes. Her hair was sticking up in places. I resisted the urge to smooth it down for her.
I sat up, twisting around and planting my feet on the floor. Raising my arms, I stretched and stood. When I looked back at Ellie, her eyes were wide and roaming across me. Normally I wasn’t particularly self-conscious around women, but with Ellie, I worried. What did she think of me?
“You okay?” I asked.
Her face flushed and she met my eyes.
“Yes,” she squeaked.
Her hands fisted in the covers.
“You sure? Was, uh, sleeping with me okay?”
What the fuck did you just ask her?
“It was… nice.”
I knew she realised what I asked could be taken as dirty because she bit her lip. Instead of making this more uncomfortable for her, I left to use the bathroom. When I walked out, I grabbed my jeans off the floor and was about to put them on when she spoke, “You said I was having a nightmare earlier. I wasn’t thrashing around, was I?”
“Um no, you were talking and whimpering though.”
“I usually wake up in terror covered in sweat every morning.” She looked up at me. “For the first time in two and a half years, I wasn’t scared. So yeah, having you here was more than okay.”
The thought of Ellie going through that every night for years made my chest ache.
“Something really bad happened yesterday,” she continued. “I’m not ready to talk about it, but I want you to know I meant what I said last night… about me feeling safe with you and um… that I like you.”
I’d never push Ellie into telling me something she wasn’t comfortable revealing, but I couldn’t help wondering what happened.
“You know I like you too… right?” I like you in ways I shouldn’t.
She nodded, twisting the covers in her fingers.
“I need to get going.”
I felt her eyes on me as I tugged on my jeans before sitting on the end of the bed to put my socks and shoes on. Lastly, I tugged my hoodie on and zipped it up. I didn’t want to leave. Honestly, I wanted to tell her I was ridiculously attracted to her and it was taking everything in me not to act on those feelings and urges. If she felt the same, I’d kiss her before I laid her down and worshipped every inch of her body.
Fuck I want you so much, Ellie. It’s driving me crazy.
“I’m kind of busy with the new collection, but if you let me know when you’re not working, I’ll make time to see you.”
“You don’t have to if you’re busy.”
I almost shook my head. She was too damn sweet.
“Ellie, I want to spend time with you. You’re a part of my life now so get used to it.”
I got a small smile out of her with that statement.
“Okay,” she whispered.
“Text me.”
She nodded. I got up, picked up my phone and let myself out. On the way to my car, my phone buzzed.
ELLIE: Not working on Sunday. Weather should be nice. Picnic in Hyde Park. My treat.
I smiled, my heart rate kicking up a notch.
ME: Let me know what time and I’ll be there.
***
I raked a hand through my hair as I sat at my desk and turned my laptop on. My eyes were fixed on the screen but I wasn’t really seeing anything. All my senses were honed on the memory of Ellie’s body pressed against mine. Her supple curves moulding to me. Her arm wrapped tightly around my chest.
I wasn’t sure how I held back from turning her face up towards me and kissing her soft, pink lips earlier. Everything about Ellie drew me in. She was utterly intoxicating and I was fucking drowning. One taste would never be enough. One touch couldn’t satisfy this craving. This need deep inside me, clawing its way out like a savage beast rattling its cage.
I’d never felt this way about anyone before. Not even Avery. And now I knew Ellie wasn’t immune. I’d noticed the way she watched me last night like she couldn’t stop herself looking and every time she did, her ears went pink. She felt the same pull. Our attraction was mutual.
This was utterly fucking crazy. Where the hell had all my common sense fled to? Ellie wasn’t some girl you took to bed and fucked to get her out of your system. She had broken shards embedded on the inside. She needed kindness and care. To be coaxed out of her shell so she could learn to trust me.
I certainly couldn’t afford to give in to that dark, disturbing part of me simmering below the surface. The one I’d never acknowledged. The part of me I was now pretty certain I shared with my father and my brother. Dante told me a little bit about Dad’s sex parties not long after he was arrested. And Ellie’s insinuation about Dante’s relationship with Liora. Those things made it pretty clear to me neither of them buried their desires deep down and never let them out.
I did because it wasn’t something I was comfortable with. That need to have a woman at my mercy. I had no interest in dishing out pain or anything, it was the power exchange. Someone giving that over to me. It excited me. And I hated it. That’s why I’d never acted on it. Never felt the need with anyone, but something Ellie said to me last night got to me.
“All my masters preferred to sleep alone.”
Had they made her call them that? Master. It’s not so much the word that had me spiralling, but what it represented. They kept Ellie as their what? Pet? Slave? I didn’t want that. The thought of masters and slaves made me sick. You couldn’t own another person, but they could willingly give you power over them. Dominance. And sickeningly enough because I knew that’s the type of thing she’d been through. Because I recognised that part of her. It called to me. The beast was thrashing, urging me to give in. How could I after what she’d been through? It was wrong. So fucking wrong. All of it.
Ellie needed sweet. She needed care and attention. And I wanted to give that to her. Desperately. But I also needed her on her knees, staring up at me with those sky blue eyes of hers doing exactly as I told her.
Why had I not felt these fucking urges when it came to Avery? Especially now I knew what kind of relationship she had with Aiden behind closed doors. How had I not seen that? Not recognised that’s what she needed deep down.
It’s not the same. What she needs and what I need don’t match up. That’s why.
There was no need to restrain. It was simply a need to command and be obeyed.
And there was no fucking way in hell I could ever act on this shit.
Not when it came to Ellie.
r /> My turbulent thoughts were disrupted by one of the secretaries coming through the door.
“Post for you, Mr Benson,” Viola said.
I nodded at her as she dropped it on my desk, giving me a smile before disappearing again. Normally I didn’t get much in the way of mail or letters so this was a little strange. I picked up the single letter she’d brought in, scanned the address and dropped it like it fucking burnt me.
What the actual fuck?
It was the handwriting which did it for me. I knew exactly who this was from and it made hatred churn in my gut. It taunted me as it sat there on my desk. There was no fucking way I was opening this. No way I could deal with it by myself.
I picked up the offending article as I stood and walked out of my office. I bypassed Jen and Fi’s offices and went straight to Dante’s. He was on the phone when I walked in. He put a hand up when he saw me, indicating he was busy. I didn’t give a shit what he was doing. This was more important.
I strode up to his desk and dumped the letter on his keyboard, glad to be rid of it. Dante’s eyes flicked down to it and widened. His gaze shot up to me, a pained expression appearing across his face.
“Listen, Will, can we continue this later? Something has come up and I really need to take care of it,” Dante said, his eyes still fixed on me. “Sure, yes, great. Thanks, speak later.”
He put his phone down on the desk.
“Is this what I think it is?” he asked.
“Yes. What I don’t fucking know is why.”
He looked down at the letter again.
“You didn’t open it.”
“No… I can’t.”
The thought of reading his words made me physically sick. How could he still make me feel this way? He was in fucking prison. He couldn’t hurt me, but his fucking words could still get to me. He’d just proven that.
“Should we get Jen and Fi?”
“No. They don’t need to know. It’ll only upset them.”
“Close the door.”
I walked over and shut it firmly behind me before throwing myself into the chair in front of his desk, running a hand through my hair.
“You want me to read it.”
I nodded. Even though I knew how this would probably affect him, I couldn’t do it myself.
He sighed, turning it over and grabbing the letter opener. When he got the envelope open, he pulled a sheet of paper out. I could see it was handwritten in our father’s cursive. I already wanted to be sick.
His eyes scanned over it, the colour draining from his face.
“What does it say?” I asked as a chill ran down my spine.
He slid the paper across to me, shaking his head. If Dante couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud, it had to be something bad. My fingers shook as I snagged it and looked it over.
Dear James,
I’ve never been sure who I’m more disappointed in. You or Dante. Your sisters have always been such ridiculous vapid girls, but you and your brother showed promise. I saw myself in both of you. Dante proved himself weak. Too swayed by his need to protect you and the twins.
You were always such a good boy. I taught you so well. Your quiet disposition is a strength. I don’t think you can see what dwells inside you, but I can. I’ve always known, son. I should’ve chosen you over your brother. You would’ve served me better if only you’d given into your needs.
I’d like it if you visited me. We need to discuss a few things, you and I.
Think about it.
Your father
I threw the paper on the desk and put a hand to my mouth. The whole thing shook me to my core. Especially given what I’d been thinking about before this letter had landed on my desk.
“It’s bullshit, James. He’s just trying to get in your head,” Dante said.
“You know his words hurt me far worse than his fists ever did,” I said, my voice hushed and unsteady.
“That’s exactly why you’re not going to see him.”
Dante was right. I would never visit him in prison. That would be asking for trouble. My father had always known where to hit me the hardest. His words were vile. Poison infecting my soul. There was no doubt in my mind the reason he’d written to me was because he knew he could get to me that way.
We sat in silence for a long moment. What the hell could either of us say about the letter?
Nothing.
There was, however, something else I wanted to ask Dante. Something I probably shouldn’t pry into, but the intensity of my thoughts and urges were getting to me.
“Can I ask you something… personal?”
I looked up at my brother. His brow was furrowed.
“If you want.”
“Do you have… needs which aren’t quite normal?”
His eyebrows shot up.
“What kind of needs?”
This was probably one of the most awkward conversations I’d ever had with him, but I had to know the truth. Perhaps it would help me understand myself. But really, how the fuck did I ask him if he was a Dom? I mean that’s fucked up to ask your own brother. Perhaps because I knew deep down what the answer to that would be.
“Like… Fuck it. What’s behind the locked door in your house?”
He sat back and regarded me for a long moment.
“A playroom. An adult one.”
I hadn’t expected him to tell me outright.
“And that fulfils your… needs?”
“Yes. Why are you asking me this?”
I sighed, looking away.
“I met someone who ignited things I’ve always kept buried. You’re the only person I know who might understand what those needs are and how I deal with it.”
“Is this because of what Zach wrote, about seeing something in you?”
I shifted, feeling my skin prickling. Our father’s words were playing on my mind, but this was different. This was about the darkness I’d always known was dwelling inside me.
“No. Dad can fuck off, quite frankly.”
“And you can’t talk to Avery about this?”
I looked at him again. It didn’t seem like this fazed him, but his fingers were tapping on the arm of his chair.
“No. That’s awkward considering our history and she doesn’t know about…”
“About who?”
“Ellie.”
He nodded slowly before leaning forward and planting his elbows on the desk.
“What exactly is this girl making you want?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Things are always fucking complicated, James. Just tell me.”
“I want her to obey me.” It was so simple and yet it opened a huge can of worms. “But I can’t ask her for that. She’s got a horrifying past which I don’t even know the full extent of. She needs to be loved, not… commanded. We’re supposed to be just friends. And she knows I’m in love with Avery, so there’s that fucked up shit to deal with on top of everything else.”
I dropped my head into my hands. Why was this such a huge mess? Why was I so fucked up in the head? And why the hell was I admitting all of this to my brother?
“You’re in love with the idea of Avery. You always have been, but you two decided to blur the lines, didn’t you? That’s why you can’t see past her.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I’m not fucking stupid, that’s how.”
I didn’t look up at him. His words settled over me. In love with the idea of Avery. Was he right? I knew what it was like to be with Avery physically, but we’d never really been together as a couple. We weren’t really right for each other in that way. She was right for Aiden. If she hadn’t been, then we would’ve been with each other and I wouldn’t be craving these things with Ellie.
“You have two choices. You act on your desires or you don’t. Don’t be like me though. I almost fucked everything up with Liora that way. Do it consensually if you are g
oing to act on it. Make sure she wants it too.”
He said it like it really was that simple. Act on it or don’t. Nothing was that fucking simple. Not ever. With Ellie, everything was complicated. My feelings towards her. My desires. Her past and what that meant.
“Fucked things up with Liora how?” I asked, raising my head.
His expression became pained for a moment.
“It’s a long story and we’ve got a collection to launch.”
He was right. I’d already taken up enough time with Dad’s letter and this conversation.
“Come to dinner later and we’ll talk about this more, okay?” he continued.
I nodded before standing. He looked at the letter.
“Just throw it away. I don’t want to see it again.”
As I left, I somehow felt a little lighter having told someone about how I felt. I still wasn’t any clearer regarding my next move, but at least I could talk to Dante about this shit. He understood. I tried not to think about what he and Liora got up to in his playroom. That shit I really didn’t want to know.
I hope I can figure this out before I see Ellie again. How am I going to get through this picnic with her if I don’t?
Chapter Twelve
Ellie
The way the sun glinted off his dark hair, highlighting the dark brown undertones had me mesmerised. I was glad the weather was nice, but not so much that there were a lot of people around. Even so, we’d picked a spot a little way off from the families and couples dotted around everywhere.
James’ face was turned up to the sun, his eyes closed as if he was basking in the rays. I took the liberty of the moment to study him. The stubble across his jawline and contours of his features. The hard lines of his muscles visible under his t-shirt. He might not be ripped, but he was athletic. I was in no doubt he could quite easily overpower me if he wanted to at any point.
The fucked up part.
I was more than willing to let him.
My time in captivity had fucked with my head clearly. Being forced to do the bidding of my masters. It conditioned me in some ways, but in others, it awakened things in me. Needs I wasn’t sure were normal. I’d always resigned myself to the fact that whilst I could try and live a relatively normal life now, I would never be normal on the inside. My introduction to the world had been harsh. Reality was devastating. I knew darkness like the back of my hand.