AllFreeNovel
Share Us
His jaw hardened, then relaxed. The reaction swept his body, giving it a weary slump. He was done fighting for tonight. "I can leave," he said. But he didn't try to get up.
She dropped to her heels before her naked and bound man, running her fingers over his lips. They moved as if they wanted to nuzzle or kiss her fingers, but he was still too zoned out to coordinate it. Even if she had been willing to let him leave, he'd be in no condition to drive right now.
"No. You stay here tonight. Rest. Sleep. No forward or back. Just here."
A little sigh left him, a heave of his considerable shoulders and broad chest, and he nodded.
"Yes, Mistress."
She smiled, though it cracked her heart. Not just the words. All of it. Before bedtime, she was treating herself to a hefty glass of wine.
She teased his throat beneath the edge of the head mask. "Tomorrow, I'll feed you breakfast and give you a shave before I kick you out. If you use the bathroom again, I expect you to leave things neat. You miss that bowl and I'll have you licking the floor around it clean."
Rising, she moved toward the door. As she did, she heard a painful chuckle and he mumbled something. She paused. "What was that?"
"I said you're a real nurturer, Lady Regina." He didn't sound unhappy about it, but thinking of how she'd really wanted to care for him, the observation turned screws tighter in her heart.
"I'm what you need, Marius," she said. "You might want to think about that before you try to throw it away again. Good night."
Chapter Ten
He slept some. The pillow smelled like a not-unpleasant flowery herbal thing. As much as he'd liked a lot of things that had happened between them, he tried to push all of it out of his mind, because it would circle him back to the thing that he didn't want to think about. It didn't matter. It wouldn't leave him alone anyway.
When he'd had the chain around her neck, a screaming voice in his head had told him to do it, to keep going, finish it. Damn it, he'd resisted that, but all he'd wanted to do after that was get the hell out of here. It never occurred to him that she wouldn't be in complete agreement.
She'd acted like it wasn't a big deal, a guy threatening her life. And not because she was some twisted up, self-destructive bitch. She'd sounded in control the whole time. He knew he'd rattled her, and she'd admitted it. But she hadn't backed down. She'd defused him, backed him down. While that should piss him off, instead, the violence had drained out of him, leaving nothing. He slept on her floor like a stray dog grateful that she'd taken him in, no matter that he'd tried to bite her hand off when she fed him.
Stop thinking. Or give it up and think about better shit. Easier shit. Like her body against him, that unexpected move when she'd fucked him while he was hog-tied and on his side. God, that had felt like heaven. He kept waking up hard, just reimagining it. He needed to be back inside her, like now. Like an hour ago. Or maybe he never wanted to stop. Just wanted to stay inside her until he was hard again and keep doing the cycle, over and over again.
Was she watching him through the webcam, or was she asleep? What would it be like to sleep in her bedroom? He wouldn't need to be in her bed. He'd be fine on the floor, merely positioned where he could see her. Where he could guard the door. Guard her.
He pressed his face into the pillow. Who would protect her from him? Truth, she'd done a damn good job of that herself. But he was good at adapting. When that darkness rose again, he would know what to anticipate. He'd screwed with the other Mistresses until they kicked him loose, before that side of him could cause damage. He'd come close to it tonight, and next time he'd succeed.
If he wanted to protect her, he needed to end this himself. He would. He'd sleep, and have the breakfast she'd offered in the morning, because he didn't pass up free food. Then he'd be on his way, done with all this. Under the mask, he closed his eyes, increasing the darkness so he could imagine smelling her hair, her skin, nuzzling them. Holding her so close, her body moving against his, things spinning around them, a cocoon taking away everything else.
She'd come out of that cocoon a butterfly. What would he be? Was it better to come out as something terrible, or just as a caterpillar, failing to have transformed, unable to move on?
He'd fallen asleep. He drifted, vaguely and then completely aware of where he ended up as he opened his eyes and saw the basement of his childhood. Inhaled the scent of blood, and heard the cries start, his father's laughter, his demand that he obey. Come here, shit for brains. Take it. Goddamn you, take the knife.
The thud of blows, the aching pain, but that was okay. The cries stopped. He could beat Marius to death, as long as he never had to hear those cries again.
Marius started awake. He was a light sleeper, but he'd gone under much deeper here. Way deeper. Blinking, he realized the head mask was gone, as were his bindings. He was curled on the mat, the blanket he hadn't unfolded now over him. A steaming cup of coffee was near enough
the smell had woken him, driving back the darkness of his dreams. A note was by the cup.
I'm doing my workout. Towels in guest bathroom. Also a fresh toothbrush. Get a shower, then meet me in the kitchen for breakfast and the shave I promised.
He rose, finding himself stiff. That was normal, but typically it was from a night of fighting, not a workout with a Mistress, Siren's justified beating notwithstanding.
He folded the blanket and put it on one of her tables. His clothes, including his shirt, were folded there. All evidence of the things she'd used last night were gone, including the serviceable collar she'd strapped around his throat. He ran his hands over that spot, feeling its absence. He closed his eyes and tried to call up a memory of her removing it, her fingers slipping over his skin, then unlatching the cuff from his ankle. He couldn't tell if it was true memory or what he imagined, but he supposed it didn't matter.
Though he figured they were alone in the house, a compulsion for some type of shielding had him pulling on the jeans before picking up the rest of his clothes and stepping out into the hallway. She had a neat, well-ordered house with decorations that reflected her personality and made it a home. Things with bold colors and broad strokes. There was a set of wire frames hooked together in a puzzle design on the hallway wall. Family pictures, he guessed, from all the similar facial features to her own. Maybe parents, siblings, nieces and nephews.
When he looked behind him, the big hallway tree with a mirror startled him with his reflection. He looked like a guy who'd broken into her house, with his wary eyes and disheveled appearance. He ran a hand over his coarse jaw. Fuck, he should just go. But he could smell...cinnamon buns?
Yeah, he was a selfish shit. He'd eat her food, then take off. Irritable with himself and not sure what to do with it, he went into the bathroom. She'd left little sample shampoos and soaps with the fresh toothbrush. Did she entertain guys so often she was stocked like a Holiday Inn Express?
The growly thought was a little too uncomfortably possessive. The quick surge of relief he felt when he remembered her saying she'd done a lot of traveling before the community college job didn't make him less uneasy with himself.
