Page 21 of The Devil’s Submission

A yearning so fierce, so powerful, he couldn’t sit down a moment longer overwhelmed him, and he shoved back his chair and walked over to the floor-to-ceiling shelves crammed with hundreds of leather-bound books. “I don’t know,” he bit out.

“Maybe earlier today we did. I don’t think you have ever taken me so hard and deep as up against that wall over there. And in the chair, oh my. Now that I know you like it when I speak forcefully, when I hold you and guide your pleasure, I will give you what you need.”

“You won’t,” he said hoarsely, the two words tumbling out before he could halt them.

She stepped forward to grip the back of the chaise. “How…how so?”

“What we have done so far, it has been very, very good, but it is only part of what I truly need.”

“Then tell me. Tell me the rest. How can I know unless you do?”

Bracing one hand on the bookshelf, he stared at Eliza, feeling like he walked a carnival tightrope. She said she wanted to know, but the truth had already destroyed him once.

“It is worse than you think,” he said quietly.

“Grayson, now you are scaring me.”

Rage bubbled. “Good. The sooner you realize exactly how twisted I am, the sooner you’ll leave.”

“Twisted? What on earth are you talking about?”

“I like pain, Eliza. In sexual play.”

“Well, I know that. You certainly liked me tugging your hair and scratching you with my nails this morning,” she said soothingly, a relieved smile playing about her lips. “And that is quite, quite fine.”

“You know nothing,” he snarled, angry at her calm acceptance when she didn’t understand at all. “When I say I like pain, I mean I like it rough and harsh and hurting. In my last year at Eton, I used to misbehave to get the cane. The more strokes the better. And then I’d go to my room and come in my hand because I was so hard. Reyburn found out and was so furious he threatened to cut me off. I stopped for a while, but when I started Cambridge, the need returned, stronger than ever.”

“And you met Charlotte.”

“I did. And everything was a splendid whirl of discovery. I could be my true self. The others didn’t judge me, didn’t care that I liked canes and crops and clamps and cock rings. It was a happy time, until Reyburn’s spies discovered why I chose to remain in the village rather than leave in the term breaks. When I finally did go home for Christmas in 1803, Reyburn and his valet were waiting.”

Eliza gasped. “What did they do?”

“Beat me. But as the bard said, therein lies the rub. I didn’t cower or scream or beg for mercy. I laughed. And after one particularly good strike with a buckled belt, I came in my trousers. Reyburn used his fists after that, until his hands became too sore and his valet stepped in. When I stopped moving, he threw me out onto the footpath in the ice and snow. The cold was enough to wake me up, and I staggered and crawled to Charlotte’s townhouse. She took me in. End of story.”

Deafening silence filled the office. Eliza ran across the room, but her touch on his shoulder was too much, threatening to break his fragile composure. “Grayson…”

He shook her off. “Don’t. Just leave. If you care at all, leave me be.”

His wife hesitated for an achingly long moment then fled, slamming the office door behind her.

Slowly, Devil slid down the bookshelf front, until he sprawled on the ground. Finally, no more pretense or lies or secrets. Now that Eliza knew the whole disgusting truth, she would leave for good. His eyes burned, his head throbbed, and his gut churned with nausea at the thought of his bleak, empty future, but he wouldn’t succumb. It was far better like this.

Or at least, it would be.

…

Near-blinded by her tears, Eliza ran and ran, having no idea where she was going as she sprinted down several hallways, until her feet came to a sudden halt outside Charlotte’s chamber.

Without hesitating, she pounded on the door, and a minute later it opened to reveal Grayson’s savior in a gold satin dressing gown, a very perplexed expression on her face.

“Charlotte,” she choked out on a sob, knowing she probably looked like a complete fright. “May I come in?”

“Why?” said Charlotte in a blunt but not unfriendly tone.

“I n-need to speak with you about Grayson. He…he just told me about that night with his father. Actually he told me everything. Cambridge, the parties…”

The door swung wide. “Come in. I apologize for the mess, but I’m just getting ready for a performance.”