by Bea Paige
“You’ve had more episodes, haven’t you?” she questions, her voice soft, a little hurt.
“Yes,” I admit, clasping her hand and drawing her fingers to my lips. I whisper a kiss against her knuckles, and her cheeks flush a pale shade of pink. “I haven’t lost consciousness the same way I have before. I don’t black out and forget. That’s a huge step forward, Rose.”
A fucking giant leap, all because of this woman.
“And now I haven’t been there for you,” she says, echoing my own guilt.
We both want so much to heal the other completely, and yet, right now, we’re both prevented from doing so. Rose, because she’s weakened physically, and me because I’m too wrapped up with guilt and remorse because of what Ms Hadley did to her, triggering those fucking flashbacks.
“Being here in this house with us is enough,” I lie. I need her touch to remind me that I can be the man I so desperately want to be.
“It isn’t, and you know it,” she scolds me gently, seeing through me.
I bite her knuckles hard, the urge to dominate, to distract her, suddenly rushing up my spine and overtaking the moment. God, I want to fuck her.
“Erik,” she groans, not in the least bit disturbed by the act.
Running my tongue over the small indents on her skin, I remind us both of our unique connection. I know Rose will submit to both the pain and the pleasure, giving me what I need both physically and emotionally. Only a few weeks ago I tore open her chest and held her beating heart in my hand, and she let me. She fucking let me.
“When you’re fixed, the things I’m going to do to you, Rose,” I blurt out.
Her nostrils flare as she presses her thighs together at the rush of endorphins and the energy crackling between us. Always this energy, so overwhelming but utterly right. I wonder if it’s the same with Anton and Ivan, then I remember how they are together and know without a doubt it is.
“The things I’ll submit to…” she responds, before a dark cloud passes behind her eyes drawing her thoughts in another direction.
“Talk,” I demand. “Don’t hold it in, we’re beyond that now.”
“You do realise that you’re being a hypocrite. Refusing to tell me what’s going on. Two can play at that game, Erik.”
“Rose,” I warn.
She sighs heavily, but she doesn’t withdraw from me. Instead, she squeezes my fingers tightly, then opens up. Giving me a gift with every word she utters; her vulnerability is like precious gems twinkling in the autumn sunlight. I want to gather them all and lock them away inside my own blackened heart.
“I feel as though I’m losing grasp of you all. I’m not good at sitting around and waiting for shit to fall apart. I’m in too deep, Erik. I need you all to anchor me. I’ve never needed anyone, not really. I could only rely on myself.” She draws in a long shuddering breath before continuing. I sense what she isn’t able to say, this is huge for Rose. Huge, and the three of us are fucking blowing it.
“Fran told me about Ms Hadley, about what you all think she did to your…”
Her words trail off as I stiffen.
“Say it,” I demand.
“You think Ms Hadley killed your real mother, don’t you?”
Despite the subject matter and the betrayal I feel at the hands of the woman I once called mother, I reward Rose for being open with me. She winces as I push between her parted legs, my side pressing against her sore knee. She doesn’t ask me to move away, so I don’t. Clasping her face in my hands I draw her face towards mine.
“Erik, don’t try and distract me,” she persists, even though I know she wants my kiss just as much as the answer to her question. Conflict brews beneath her pretty meadow-green eyes.
“Right now, it’s just supposition. We don’t know anything for certain.” I grit my jaw, a restless energy snaking around my heart. Fuck, that’s a lie. Back in the outhouse, I saw the truth in Ms Hadley’s eyes just beneath the depths of evil lurking there. She had the same look as the woman who tortured me. Unhinged, passionate, obsessed, crazed.
My own fucking mother.
“Erik, the truth…” She frowns, her perfectly arched eyebrows drawing together.
My hands drop away from her face, my shoulders slumping. “Yes, I think she killed my real mother.”
“That bitch,” she spits, rage and fury lighting an inferno within her. The power of it takes my breath away. “She’s going to wish she fucking killed me because there’s no way I’m going to sit back and let her get away with this. What’s happening with the case?” She breathes heavily through her mouth, her chest rising and falling with anger. I’m pretty certain that if she could walk right now, she’d leave us in search for Ms Hadley and fucking kill her. Something I should’ve done that day.
“I don’t want to discuss it right now, Rose. Soon, but not now.”
“Erik, we need to talk about this. I don’t want any of you protecting me from the truth. I may be stuck in this damn metal seat with wheels, but I’m strong enough to deal with whatever’s going on. Haven’t I proved as much to you all?”
“Wheelchair,” I point out, evading her question.
Of course she’s strong. She’s stronger than all three of us put together. This woman is the only reason I see a future that isn’t filled with endless years of torment. Ivan and Anton are besotted with her as much as I am. She’s a perfect fit for our kind of fucked up. No one else would ever work.
“Shut up,” she responds, crossing her arms over her chest. “I know very well this is a damn wheelchair, though it feels more like a prison of its own.”
I lean in closer, my tongue sliding out to wet my lips. “Kiss me, woman,” I growl, loving how her attitude makes me want to punish her just the way she craves.
“Erik!” Her sharp tone makes me smile despite everything.
“I’m going to kiss you, whether you want me to or not, Rose. So, I can make this easy or hard, what’s it to be?” I glare at her, not willing to back down. Loving the distraction, craving her kiss, her touch.
“Hard,” she purrs, her nostrils flaring as she turns her face away from me and looks out of the window. My fucking cock twitches at her rebelliousness. She knows exactly what’s she’s doing, seeking out the punishment she desires.
“There will come a time I will give you all that you crave, Rose. But I must trust myself with you first. I don’t need Anton and Ivan watching every time we fuck.”
“I trust you,” she bites out, still refusing to look at me. “You broke me and pieced me back together, Erik. What does that tell you?”
“Soon,” is all I can manage to say in response.
I’d promised her in the glass cage that the time would come when we could explore her submission and my dominance. I’m trying to get to the point freely, and I am getting there. I’m on the verge of becoming the man she wants, the man I need to be, but I’m not there yet. Not with Ms Hadley and her wickedness still hanging over us all.
“The hard way,” she repeats, calling my bluff and pushing the point. Testing the boundaries and my resolve.
My fingers seek out her jaw as I crowd her body with my own. Sliding my free hand behind her back I force her forward to the edge of the seat whilst my fingers grip her chin tightly. Rose draws in a sharp breath, desire, anger and the edge of pain snapping in her eyes. She might be angry with me in the moment, but she’s sure as fuck turned on too. I see it in the parting of her lips and the heaving of her chest.
“The next time you deny me what I need, there’ll be consequences, Rose. Today, you have a free pass.”
“I don’t want a free pass. You withhold the truth from me, I withhold what you want in return. Tell me what’s going on!”
“Rose…” I grind out. The sound of her name on my lips comes out as a shattered prayer. My desire, unmistakable. I need this kiss. Fucking need it, and I’m going to take it any way I can. Perhaps then, I can tell her what she wants to know. Her touch anchors me in the present, keeps me sane w
hen insanity is calling my name.
Ignoring her struggle to pull her body away from mine, I press my lips hard against hers. She whimpers, her fingers digging into my shoulders as her body relaxes despite her anger. Our teeth clash with force as my tongue darts into her mouth, my fingers seeking out her long hair, tangling in its length. She groans into my mouth, her own hands finding the back of my head and pulling me closer.
I’m not gentle.
This kiss is intense, filled with regret, an apology and a burning desire that lights me up and singes my skin. Like a tinderbox that has a match struck against it, we go up in flames as I scold her plump lips with the fire of my kiss. I absorb every pant, every moan, every fucking sound, telling me how much she wants this, wants me, and fuck the consequences. Now that I’ve cracked Rose open, she’s so expressive in her feelings. She kisses me back with abandon, with relief and hope, and in response I give her the side of me that I’ve been holding back these past couple of weeks. She got a glimpse of it in the glass cage that first time I took her. That was the unfettered version, and whilst it was nearer the truth of who I am, it’s not as simple as that. I am both the man and the monster. Two sides of the same coin at war with one another, always. With Rose, somehow, I’ve managed to find a happy medium, a place where I can be both. I want to explore that more, but not until she’s healed fully.
For now, this kiss will have to do. It must.
Chapter 4
Rose
Erik stands abruptly when the door to my room opens and Anton, Ivan and Dr Smithton walk in. He turns his back to them, adjusting his crotch.
“Are we interrupting?” Ivan asks, his gaze moving between us.
“Not at all,” Erik responds, turning back to face them all, his face deadpan.
Anton raises an eyebrow and Dr Smithton pins his gaze on me, avoiding all eye contact with Erik and the very obvious bulge in his trousers.
“Dr Smithton is here to check Rose over. You okay with that, Erik?” Anton asks, noticing the way Erik frowns as Dr Smithton moves towards me.
“Am I okay with another man other than you two touching my woman? Not particularly, so you’d better be quick,” he retorts, glaring at Dr Smithton unkindly who raises an eyebrow in response, then moves towards me despite the threat.
“This is my job, Erik. I’m not in the business of making a pass at my patients, no matter how lovely,” Dr Smithton retorts, winking at me.
Oh, God. Nothing like pouring gasoline on a flame.
“Good, because I am in the business of knocking out anyone who tries it on with Rose, doctor or not,” Erik snarls, bringing forth a snicker from Anton and a grin from Ivan. Despite the awkwardness, I’m glad to see them both smiling. It’s been a while. Then I remember I’m pissed at them both for avoiding me, so I close my smile down just as quickly.
“Alright, alright,” I interrupt, heat warming my cheeks and the sweet spot between my legs. It’s more than a turn on that Erik has gone all alpha male on me, and that kiss, well… I push all thoughts away of what I’d like to do now that I’ve finally got all three men in my bedroom. Even when I’m pissed off, I still want them, need them. I can admit that now. But thoughts of their naked skin and the pleasure of their touch is better left for moments when my doctor isn’t about to take my blood pressure.
“Guys, Dr Smithton doesn’t need you three in the room whilst he checks me over, especially if you’re going to be rude,” I say, giving Erik a look and trying and failing to cool my own sudden desire.
He crosses his arms, and bares his teeth, making us all laugh, except Dr Smithton, who is busy sliding my trouser leg up and gently pressing his fingertips against my still bruised knee. Thank goodness I decided to wear loose trousers, I’m not sure any of them would appreciate it if I sat in just my knickers before him. As it is, the smiles fall from Anton and Ivan’s face as he examines me. Erik just scowls even more. I guess I’ve got to manage three jealous males then. Though, honestly, I think I’d react much the same if some attractive female doctor was touching them the same way.
Dr Smithton cups my knee, drawing a sharp breath from me. Fuck, that hurts. Such a simple act reminding me that I’m still very human and still very breakable.
“Careful,” Erik warns, taking a step forward, the tension rising. Thankfully Dr Smithton is completely oblivious. Or if he is aware of how close he is to getting manhandled out of the room, he’s doing a great job at hiding it.
“Please, leave. Let Dr Smithton do his job,” I say quickly.
“Rose, we’re staying,” Ivan pipes up, crossing his arms over his chest. Today, he’s dressed casually in dark jeans and a button down shirt. I wonder briefly how he’s coping with the business side of things. Then I remember he was managing fine before I came along.
I shake my head. “No, you’re not.”
My tone changes as Domina appears. It’s been a while, and Ivan’s reaction is immediate. He lowers his gaze, and I see the tip of his tongue run over his bottom lip. I’ve missed him, and his submission. Clearly from the sudden rush of colour to his cheeks, he’s missed it too. Knowing that I still have that kind of power over him, even now like this, makes me feel a hell of a lot better. I didn’t realise quite how much I needed to know that he still wants me like that.
“Rose, keep still, please,” Dr Smithton reprimands gently as I squirm in my seat.
Drawing in a deep breath as the pressure of his fingers over my knee joint increases, I press my eyes shut. When I open them again, I look back up.
“Let Dr Smithton do his job. Then we can all talk, okay?” I say, making sure I look at each of them in turn. They’re not hiding from me this time. If I have to drag my sorry arse out of this wheelchair and hop around the manor to find them, I will.
“You’ve got it,” Anton says, grabbing hold of Ivan and gesturing for Erik to move. He gives me a wide smile and this time I don’t worry about whether it’s covering up something more sinister beneath. I’ve already fallen into Anton’s darkness and survived it.
Truth be known, of the three men, he’s fast becoming the person I can rely on to rally the other two when stubbornness and pride takes them over. In some ways, he surprises me most of all. In those few days alone together after my operation, he was attentive, funny, charming and most of all, kind. There had been no sign of the man who’d stop at nothing in his pursuit to see colour, and whilst I’m happy he appears to have accepted who he is, I know from the lack of colour covering the skin on his hands that he’s not been painting of late.
That troubles me. That needs to change.
“Fine!” Erik stabs out. “Look after our girl.”
Dr Smithton nods, doing a good job at remaining professional. “I wouldn’t dream of doing anything else,” he responds with a genuine smile.
Erik grits his jaw, then strides past Ivan and Anton, heading out the door.
“How long, Doc?” Anton asks.
“Should be done in about half an hour.”
“Be back then, Rose,” he confirms, swiping a hand through his long hair. Today he’s wearing it down, tucked behind his ears; I have the sudden urge to tug on it. “Want me to get anything for you?”
“No, I’m good,” I respond, eyeing the still uneaten plate of food Fran had brought me.
“You sure you don’t need one of us to stay?” Ivan presses, concern filling his eyes as his gaze rests on my bruised knee. It’s not a pretty sight. Two large bruises bleed black and blue into one another, the edges tinged a crimson red. It’s hideous.
“I’m sure. See you in a bit,” I say, dragging my gaze from my discoloured skin and watching them both leave the room, the door closing gently behind them.
Dr Smithton examines my knee for a good ten minutes, then after some gentle manipulation he withdraws his hands and pulls up a seat.
“I’m glad you’ve been following my instructions, Rose. It might look unsightly, but you’re healing beautifully.” He tilts his head at me, then smiles.
; “What?”
“There’s a long way to go before you’re back to any ballet… let alone anything else as vigorous.” He lets that statement hang in the air between us for a bit, before chuckling. We both know what he’s talking about and the ease with which he accepts my relationship with Ivan, Anton and Erik give me a strange sense of relief.
“You don’t disapprove?” I blurt out.
“My professional side is only concerned about your healing. My personal side is glad you have people who care about you. Who am I to judge how you choose to live your life?” He pats my hand in an almost fatherly gesture. My chest squeezes as I’m reminded of the man who tried to be a father to me but failed. I didn’t know I needed someone like that in my life, until right this second.
“Thank you. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”
“You’re going to be okay, Rose. Once you’ve gotten over this surgery and your shoulder injury, there will be no stopping you. I have every faith that you’ll be able to dance again. Though, of course, how soon hinges on your rheumatoid arthritis.”
“It’s under control. My bloodwork came back okay. As you know, this new medication I’m on seems to be doing the trick keeping it at bay, for now at least. I don’t feel the same kind of dull ache everywhere that I usually do. It’s refreshing.”
“That’s good news. Now then,” he says, standing. “I’m signing you over to another private consultant and a team of local physios. They’ll start working with you in the next couple of days.”
“How long before I can get out of this damn wheelchair?”
“Ah, well, you’ll be pleased to know I’ve brought some crutches with me today.” Dr Smithton points to the other side of the room where a pair of crutches are leaning against the wall. Ivan or Anton must’ve brought them up.