“Oh, God. I’m sorry.” I wrap my arms around myself and rock back and forth, chanting sorry on repeat as I cry brokenly.
“It’s okay, love. It’s my fault… I should’ve known better than to sneak up on you like that.” I cry harder at the brokenness in Matthew’s voice. I did that to him. He should be able to sneak up on his girlfriend and wrap his arms around her.
Instead, he has me. He would be so much better off without me. I cause nothing but heartache wherever I go. I’m not good for him. No good for anyone.
“Can I pick you up?” Matthew asks calmly. “We need to get that glass out of your hands.”
I spread my palms out in front of me and see the little pinpricks of blood where the shards of glass cut into me. Words fail me, so I just nod. He lifts me from the ground and cradles me like I’m the most precious bundle in the world. After he cleans my hands and puts a bandage on the worst of the cuts, he carries me to the living room and sits me on the couch.
“I’m going to clean up the mess. Will you be okay here for just a minute?”
I nod again even though I’m not okay. The darkness is back, and it’s swallowing me up like quicksand. Numbness has already set in, and everything outside of me feels other. I don’t exist in the now. I’m nowhere and nothing.
Lost in a fog, unable to sit still while my brain is replaying nightmares that I can’t seem to shake. Maybe some fresh air will help, I think idly. Between one blink and the next, I’m on the balcony. I don’t remember moving from the couch. The wind whips around me, bringing the scent of stale cigarettes from the rooftop. One of the maintenance workers spends his breaks up there, smoking like a chimney. The smell is one reason why I don’t spend much time out here despite the amazing view.
I pace the length of the balcony, trying to escape the stale cigarette smell, but it’s no use. I’m thrust back into another memory.
I’m blindfolded and bound to my bed. I can smell stale cigarettes, sweat, and his putrid breath. I can feel fat, probing fingers cruel and unyielding. I hear his vulgar descriptions of what he’s going to do to me next. My mouth is dry, and my throat is sore from screaming. The blindfold is soaked with my tears. I’m thankful for it… maybe if I can’t see, I won’t remember.
I was wrong. So very, very wrong. Scene after scene plays out in my head until I’m drowning in them. I can’t handle it anymore. I have to make it stop. No one should have to live with this. I won’t survive it again… not even if it’s just in my memories.
The memories are worse than the actual physical act of what happened. The bruises fade away. The memories? Those never go away. They torture me with the abuse over and over again. Making me relive it on a vicious loop.
I thought I was getting better. That I was moving past the horrors of Red House, but now I can see that I’ll never be free. I’ve been happier than I ever have been these last months with Matthew. Even at my lowest, it was still better than anything in my past. I have friends. Hannah, Slade, and Kisten treat me like family. I just wish it was enough. Red House twisted my mind, leaving a broken shell behind.
No matter how much happiness I find here with my new-found family, it will never be enough. The damage is done.
Somewhere in the distance, I can hear my name. People are looking for me, they sound frantic. I should call out and let them know that I’m here, but I don’t. Eerie calm settles over me the ugliness in my head stops as the wind whips around my body. My dress flaps in the wind, sounding like the wings of a bird.
I wonder if I could fly.
I could just let go. Give in to the darkness and be free of this torment. There’s freedom right there for the taking if I just make the leap. Who could blame me, anyway? I’ve survived more than any person should ever have to. This moment of peace—of clarity—could be the rest of my forever.
“Oh my God, Rose!” Hannah cries out in horror. “Slade! Matthew! She’s out here.” Distantly I think about how odd it is that she didn’t call Slade master. Is she still upset at him for earlier?
“Holy fuck!” Slade shouts.
I was terrified of him when I first met him. I feel silly now. He’s been by my side, keeping me safe for weeks. The real threat was never Mr. Perfect or Damon. No, the danger has always been the darkness within me. No one can save me from it.
“Rose, sweetheart, you need to come on back down here,” Slade coaxes. I’m confused as to why he doesn’t want me on the balcony. And why he’s moving towards me so slowly with outstretched arms. “Just grab my hand, sweetheart.”
I close my eyes, just wanting him to go away. For everything to just go away. I turn my focus back to the skyline and think again about what it must feel like to fly. To soar high up in the clouds free from everything. I close my eyes and spread my arms, pretending that they are wings.
Just before I take flight, his voice breaks through the numbness.
“Stop!” Matthew demands. “Don’t you dare.”
I drop my arms to my sides uselessly. I look over my shoulder toward my salvation. “Matty?”
Seconds later, he’s yanking me off the ledge and into his arms. He holds me so tight my ribs creak. I don’t have a chance to complain because his mouth crashes down on mine in a punishing kiss. He kisses me like I’m his first and last breath. Like I’m essential. Abruptly he stops the frantic mating of our lips and tosses me on his bed. Before I even stop bouncing from being tossed so forcefully, Matthew has me rolled onto my stomach and pulled up onto my knees.
My brain still hasn’t caught up with what’s happening when his hand cracks down on my left butt cheek. Hard. So much harder than last night. “You think you can just walk away from me?” He sounds furious. He hasn’t even finished the question, and he lands two more solid smacks on my ass, alternating from my right to left butt cheek.
“Ow! Matthew, what the…” I start to ask what the hell he’s doing, but words fail me when he spanks me two more times. Each spank harder than the last.
“You don’t get to question me. You took ten years off my life with that little stunt you pulled.” His words are angry, but his tone is fearful. Three more spanks land, this time on my upper thighs. “You tried things your way. Now we’re going to do it mine.”
“What does that mean?” I choke out between spanks.
“It means that from now on, you’re not just my girl, you’re my submissive. It means that I own your pleasure and your pain. It means that when you’re lost, I’ll find you.”
“H-how?” I stutter.
“Do you remember that first time when you kneeled for me?”
Of course I remember. He petted my hair, and my rushing thoughts stopped. “Yes.”
“You were wound so tight after the incident with Mr. Perfect that I thought you might crack. You saw Hannah at Slade’s feet getting comfort, and you wanted that too. Without understanding what you’ve been doing, you’ve been submitting to me all along.”
Didn’t I just have this very same thought? It’s true that when he’s in control, I’m calmer. The ugliness in my mind quiets. “I have,” I admit.
“It’ll be like that, but more. When your mind goes to that ugly place, and you feel yourself sinking, I will spank you or pleasure you… or both. You’ll do what I say because it’s what you need. Together, we will silence those demons and set you free.”
It sounds too good to be true, but he’s already proved it’s possible. He quieted my mind with pleasure before we left for dinner. Afterward he mastered my body with pleasure and pain until the only thoughts in my mind were of Matthew.
“Yes, please.” I know he’s not asking for permission. I already gave that to him when I agreed that if my way didn’t work, we would do things his way, but it feels necessary to make sure he knows that I want this. I never want him to feel like he’s taking something I’m freely giving him.
He lowers my chest to the bed and puts a pillow under my hips, propping me up. There is no warning before he starts. The first few swats are gentler than
the earlier ones. Before long, he’s spanking me harder. I fight my need to cover my butt with my hands. It goes against instinct to not try to protect myself, but I trust Matthew. He won’t take things farther than I can handle.
I try to count how many times he spanks me, but I lose track. My whole butt feels like it’s on fire. He moves from my butt to my upper thighs, and I yowl in pain. This time I do fling my hands back to protect myself. He must anticipate my reaction because he quickly has my hands pinned to my lower back in one of his.
The spanking continues, and I sob so hard my body shakes from it. The pain morphs, and with each stroke of his hand, my mind clears a little more. Realization sets in about what Matthew stopped me from doing. Anger flares bright inside me. Anger at myself. At everyone who hurt me. I’m just angry.
I struggle against Matthew’s hold, but he doesn’t relent. Cold fear replaces the anger at how close I came to ending it all in my numbed state. I’ve survived too damn much to let memories of Red House destroy me. Never again. Determination fills me, and I relax into the mattress, taking my spanking with as much grace as possible. Knowing deep down that I deserve it for scaring everyone—including myself.
I lose myself in the steady rhythm Matthew sets. Tears still stream down my face, but it’s not in despair. It’s a cathartic release. It’s an exorcism of the darkness.
I shiver with pleasure when Matthew swipes a finger through my wetness. Through the pain and emotional release, my body still responded. He inserts a finger, gathering my wetness and spreading it up over my clit. I moan and push back into his touch, silently begging for more.
“You’re soaked. Did your spanking turn you on?”
I nod. “Yes, sir. It hurt so bad, but…”
He leans over my body to whisper in my ear. His suit rubbing against the back of my thighs and butt, bringing the fire back to life. “You liked it. You like submitting to me. Your body knows that pain at my hands comes with pleasure.”
As if to prove his point, he circles my clit until I come undone for him. My orgasm crashes over me like a tsunami. Every thought in my brain is annihilated. He grips my hips and thrusts inside me. I don’t know when he took off his clothes, but I’m damn grateful because him filling me is the best feeling in the world.
“Fuck, so tight. Not going to last long.”
Me either, I think to myself, moaning as he hits that spot deep inside me.
He fists my hair and pulls me up to my knees, my back is against his chest. The new angle makes me see stars and groan as the heat from my spanking is reignited.
“You feel so fucking good. I love your ass still hot from my hand pressing against me.”
I nearly go cross-eyed when Matthew starts rubbing my clit while fucking me. My whole body is drowning in sensation. I’m seconds from exploding.
“You wanted to fly, my love. I’m going to make you soar,” Matthew growls lowly.
And he does. Except instead of flying away on my own, I’m flying with Matthew. Soaring into the light and far away from the darkness.
32
Rose
I stretch like a cat waking from a long nap. My body is sore but a delicious kind of sore. I feel slightly lethargic, but at the same time, clear. I’ve had moments of peace from the darkness inside. This feels different somehow. I’m not sure if it was the spanking followed by the most magnificent orgasm to ever orgasm, or if it’s my new determination to not let the darkness win.
To not let fucking Nelson Grant and all the other men rule my body and mind ever again. Maybe a combination of both. I have no doubt that the darkness isn’t gone forever, but it feels diminished somehow. Like it’s lost its power over me.
“Welcome back, my love,” Matthew murmurs, kissing my forehead sweetly. I snuggle deeper into his arms. I love the steady beat of his heart under my ear. “How do you feel?”
“Lighter.”
“Good. That’s really good.”
He runs his fingers up and down my back in long soothing strokes. I close my eyes, telling myself it’ll just be for a minute, but I let Matthew’s touch and the beat of his heart lull me to sleep.
Morning brings birds chirping and rainbow glitter farting unicorns. At least that’s how I feel. Which is freaking fantastic. Matthew is already up by the time I get up. I can hear him talking to someone in the other room. I stretch and move to get up. When I sit up, I hiss in pain. Ouch. That spanking was no joke, but the ends definitely justify the means.
The hot water from the shower feels amazing on my sore muscles. I take my time washing and conditioning my hair, humming to myself. I shiver when I clean my pussy. It’s still wet with mine and Matthew’s release. The thought of being filled with him makes my core clench. I have never, ever touched myself, but I can’t resist circling my clit. My knees nearly buckle at the instant pleasure.
There’s a knock on the door seconds before Matthew appears in front of the shower. He raises a brow when he sees my hand between my legs. I flush with embarrassment making it completely obvious what I was doing. I could’ve claimed that I was washing myself, but my blush and the fact that I’m panting like I ran a freaking marathon gives me away.
“Caught with your hand in my cookie jar,” he teases.
I pull my hand from between my legs with a laugh. “We’re calling it a cookie jar now?”
“It’s sweet like a cookie.”
I groan. “You’re terrible.”
“You love it.”
I turn off the water and open the shower door. Matthew pulls my towel from the hook and holds it out for me. I walk right into his arms and stand on tiptoe to kiss him. “I love you.”
“And I love you,” Matthew says against my lips before deepening the kiss. My towel falls to the floor, forgotten. I whine when he ends the kiss and picks up my towel, wrapping it back around my body. “You wreck my control, love. I came to tell you that I need to go to the club and that I’ll be late getting home tonight.”
My smile disappears, knowing that it’ll be hours and hours until he gets home. “Can I come? I bet there’s all kinds of filing that needs to be done.”
“You know that there’s no filing.”
I smirk at him. “I know, but it sounds like a good excuse for me to come with you.”
He pulls me into another kiss. “No excuses needed. I always want you with me.”
“Great! I’ll get dressed.”
33
Matthew
“Are you sure it was a good idea to bring her along?” Gunner asks.
“After yesterday, I would rather have her close.” I was thrilled when Rose asked if she could come with me to the club. I needed to keep her close but didn’t want to suffocate her. I expected her to want a little space after everything. If she were anyone else, she’d be asking me a million questions about me declaring her my submissive. She seems content, happy even, and I selfishly want to have her here so I can enjoy it even if it might not be the best idea.
“Gunner is right. She would be safer at the penthouse,” Daniels pipes up with his unwelcome two cents.
“Are you saying you can’t keep her safe while she’s here?”
Daniels gets a dark look on his face. “You know I can. I just don’t like the thought of taking unnecessary risks with her. She’s been through a lot.”
I slam my hand down on my desktop. “You think I don’t know that? I pulled her from the goddamned ledge yesterday. Literally. She was one misstep away from being taken away from me again.”
Daniels holds out his hands in surrender. “I get it. We’ll keep her safe.”
Gunner nods his agreement. Slade silently sits in the corner, looking haunted. Seeing Rose on that ledge sent him into a brooding silence.
“Tell me what we know.”
“I found the new location for Red House,” Gunner says with a twisted smile that promises pain.
“Where is it?” Slade growls, his eyes flashing with anger. Good. Anger is better than brooding silence. Anger means h
e’s ready for what comes next.
“Here in the city. Apparently, our friend Damon Savada decided he wanted to move from drugs and guns to girls. He bankrolled moving the operation.”
“Motherfucker,” Daniels yells. “I should’ve killed that fucker when I had the chance.”
“There’s always next time,” Gunner says with that same twisted smile. Daniels likes to hurt people, and he’s damn good at it, but he still has limits. Gunner has no limits. He gets the information he needs and then keeps hurting them until they die. Daniels gets the information then kills them quick.
None of us are good men. We hurt people. Kill when necessary, but all for a good cause. Does killing for the right reasons negate the wrongness? I like to think of it as instant karma for the scum of the earth. The men we kill are human traffickers and owners of sex slaves. What we do saves women and children from a fate worse than death.
“I’m assuming you’ve already got a plan in place.”
“Of course. Oscar is watching the place. As soon as Grant shows his face, we’ll move in.”
Slade turns angry eyes at Gunner. “So, in the meantime, we just sit back while girls are raped and beaten? What about them?”
“If we move now, Grant will disappear again. I don’t fucking like it any more than you do, brother, but it’s the only way.”
“And Damon?” I ask.
Daniels cracks his knuckles. “Is mine.”
“Good. Keep me posted. I want to know the second Grant is spotted.”
“Will do, boss.”
The three men get up and file out of the room.
I flick on my computer monitor and pull up the security feeds. I flip through until I find her. My Rose. She’s with Hannah in the recovery suites restocking the rooms. I told them both that they didn’t need to work, but of course they insisted once they found out that Nancy has been out sick all week.
Unforgettable (Black Rose Doms Book 1) Page 20