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“If you were mine...”
“But I’m not yours, am I, Malice? I’m Mercy’s, and right now that bastard has his head so far up his ass, he doesn’t know what to do with me. Tell me, Malice. I’ve been gone for three years and in that time, how often did Caleb lose his temper on some unsuspecting woman?”
“Not once.”
That stopped me short.
There was no fucking way Caleb went three years without releasing his anger, let alone getting laid. I wouldn’t believe it. I divorced him. He could fuck whoever he wanted. The man couldn’t go two days without getting laid. There was no fucking way he went three years as a celibate monk. Because if that were true, then the man I knew was a ticking time bomb.
Gulping, I slowly shook my head, taking a step back. “You’re lying.”
The man smirked.
“Good luck, Largo. I hope you’re well rested.”
Walking away, I would swear the man laughed.
He never laughed.
Standing there, my hands trembled and my heart raced.
Caleb Davenport was many things. A wonderful father. A devoted husband, a good friend, a savvy businessman, an exceptional lover, but one thing he wasn’t... patient.
For the life of me, I couldn’t get my feet to move.
I heard Malice clearly.
He was in the boardroom waiting for me.
He wanted to talk to me.
Funny thing was, Caleb rarely talked about anything. He preferred action to communication.
For the last month, I thought he was staying away because he didn’t want me anymore.
If Malice’s warning was any indication... boy was I wrong.
When I first met Caleb, he was everything I thought I never wanted. Dark, dangerous, determined, and demanding in everything, including the bedroom. The first time he disciplined me, he unleased something seductive, so intoxicatingly deep within me, I gravitated to him like a drug. I couldn’t get enough of him, and before I knew it, I was irrevocably his: lock, whips, and paddles. The man could just look at me with his smoldering eyes and everything inside me demanded I submit to him, begged him to punish me.
The thought of being owned by a strong and commanding man who’d punish me if I failed to please him always turned me on. I loved letting Caleb take control and use me in the bedroom. And I really loved learning how to please him.
Caleb never tried to change me. He encouraged me to be who I was. He loved my smart mouth, and I loved it when he spanked me for it. He loved it when I pushed the boundaries, and I loved being whipped for my insolence. But there was one thing Caleb always demanded, insisted upon it above everything else.
Trust.
His number one rule followed closely by his second.
No lies.
The man was like some human lie detector. He just knew when I wasn’t being completely truthful with him, and my ass felt the repercussions of that fact many times at the beginning of our relationship. It wasn’t easy for someone like me, with my background, to just come clean and trust the man I loved to take care of everything. It was a fact I was still working on when I left three years ago.
No matter how hard the truth was, he insisted on complete and total honesty.
And that’s when the truth hit me like a ton of bricks.
“Oh, God.”
Slowly backing away, I remembered the few times I truly made him angry. While I quickly learned that my cheekiness amused him, he would still discipline me, and he had paddled my ass red more than once, for being blasé. But after lying to him shortly after we were married the first time, I realized every punishment before was nothing compared to the anger that simmered deep within him. When unleashed, there was no promise, no tearful pleading to save me. Not even my smart mouth would get me out of trouble.
