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It breaks my heart when she pulls away from me in favor of pacing the room. This is the first time she hasn’t relied on me for comfort. It sucks. At first, her pacing seems like a way to work off excess nervous energy, but after a while, it morphs into something else.
Rose has her hands buried in her own hair, tugging at the long blonde locks. She’s muttering to herself, but I can’t make out what she’s saying. I try to reach out to her, but she shakes my hands away and keeps up her agitated movements.
Honestly, I’m tempted to call Dr. Klein and demand he come today. I’m out of my depth here, and that’s not something I admit lightly. Up to this point, I’ve been able to gauge her moods by reading her body language and other physical cues. Years of being a dominant have honed the skill making me able to anticipate her needs before she even realizes what those needs are. With this, I feel totally lost.
She needs more help than I can provide, and for a dominant like me, that’s a hard pill to swallow. I cross my arms and lean against the wall watching her pace and mutter and tug at her hair. The dom in me wants to roar at her to stop that the only one allowed to give her the sweet bite of pain is me. I’m a patient man when I need to be. I settle in and wait for my opportunity to break through the wall she’s thrown up between us.
Guilt gnaws away at me as I watch her struggle. It’s one thing to know she suffered horrible abuse; it’s another to see evidence of that abuse and how it’s impacted her. Those images of her tied down while being beaten and raped fucking haunt me. The pictures of her in the shower crying with blood and bruises marring every surface of her skin will never leave me. Picture after picture of my beautiful girl broken and bruised tear away at my sanity. A feral grin curves on my lips as I think of the pain the men in those pictures will feel at my hands.
When it is apparent that Rose isn’t going to come out of this on her own, I decide it’s time to stop the madness myself.
“Rose,” I say, using my no-nonsense dom voice. “Come here now.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
ROSE
I’m snapped out of my haze when Matthew calls out my name. His tone leaving no room for argument. I immediately stop my pacing and face him. He’s got that look… the one I’ve seen other doms give when their submissive is in trouble. Standing tall and proud, exuding power, he makes my knees weak.
“Come here now, Rose.” He points to the floor in front of him.
I blink stupidly as my mind tries to catch up with what’s happening right now. His growl of impatience helps move my feet. I stop just out of his reach. I have no idea what to expect. This isn’t my sweet, comforting Matthew, this is Master Bennett, and he is quite obviously displeased with me. I nervously chew my inner cheek. I avert my gaze to the floor, unable to withstand the stern dominance he’s radiating.
I feel him staring at me. I can see his hand still pointing to the spot just in front of him through my eyelashes. He wants me closer. I’m too discombobulated to move closer. Matthew has been careful to keep this side of himself in check when I’m around, and now his dominant side is out in full force.
Through sheer force of will, I keep my feet firmly planted in place. This is a test of wills, and I don’t want to lose. I’m not sure why I’m fighting it. I have nothing to gain by resisting Matthew.
Actually, that’s a lie.
I can gain knowledge from denying him what he wants. It’s a test of sorts. How will he react when I don’t do the expected? Will he lash out at me? Will he show me he’s a monster just like the others before him? It’s stupid. I already know the answers to those questions. Matthew would never, ever hurt me. And yet, I want to test him. To push the limits and see how far I can go.
Surprisingly, Matthew gives in first and closes the distance between us. With a finger under my chin, he tips my head up, giving me no choice but to look at him. “You want to play this game, little girl?”
His voice is rough. Controlled violence. Pent up frustration and need. This darker side of Matthew draws me in. It speaks to my darkness. I shiver when his fist grips my hair, and he crushes his lips to mine.
Teeth clash. Tongues possess. It’s messy and raw. He tightens his grip on my hair, and I go pliant in his hands. I open for him taking his kiss. Letting him devour my mouth without fighting for more than he’s giving.
With a groan, he rips his lips from mine and steps away. I stumble a step toward him but freeze when he gives me a hard look. “Kneel,” he commands, pointing again to the floor in front of him.
My body is buzzing with need, and my mind is a wash of confused anger and lust. I want to be mad that he set up a meeting with Dr. Klein without my permission. Hell, I should be mad that he just kissed the crap out of me and left me hanging. Instead, I just want more. Crave more of this harsher side of my Matthew.
I kneel at his feet and look up into his conflicted eyes. The dominant and the gentle hero are at war with each other. He sees me as too broken to handle his dominance. He hasn’t said as much, but I know it’s true. What he doesn’t seem to understand is I want both sides of him. I want the sweet man who holds me after a nightmare, and I want the dominant Master who commands me.
I shuffle forward on my knees until I’m pressed against his legs. “I’m sorry, sir.”
Matthew sighs deeply. I jump when his fingers tangle in my hair. He growls at my momentary fear. I whisper another apology and fight back the tears that want to fall. I’ve cried so much these last weeks, and I hate it. I don’t want to be this weak version of myself. I want to find the me that was strong enough to run away from Red House and travel halfway across the country alone.
“I will never hurt you.” His voice is raw with emotion.
“I know,” I whisper.
He gently massages my scalp, and the darkness inside of me gives up its hold on me. Calmness settles over me, and my tense muscles unclench. I wrap myself around his leg, getting as close as possible in this position.
“Shh… that’s it, sweet girl. I’ve got you now,” he croons.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know you are, love. I’m the one to blame for this. I should’ve talked to you prior to setting up the appointment with Dr. Klein. You shouldn’t have had to find out about it the way you did.”
