by Maddie Wade
Wanting her to move faster, he gripped her hips and fucked up into her, meeting her stroke for stroke, his pelvis hitting her clit until he felt her begin to shatter around him.
Her mouth ripped from his as she screamed. “Ash, oh, God, Ash.”
“Eyes on me, Mari.”
He saw the dark depths and knew at that moment she was his. His to protect, his to love, his forever, and he saw the same reflecting in her face. His climax hit, and he moaned as he spilled his seed into the condom, hating the barrier between them.
Mari fell onto his chest with a satisfied sigh. “Wow.”
His slight chuckle was all he could muster for a second. He held her tightly to his torso, not wanting this moment to end as she snuggled into him. “Let me deal with the condom,” he said and slipped out from beneath her body.
He quickly used the bathroom and washed his hands. When he padded back out, he found her sitting up with the sheet covering her. It irked him, and he prowled over and pulled it away, knowing she was retreating from him. “No.”
“Hey.” She bristled.
“You are not going to share something like that with me and then hide behind your wall.” He slid into bed and pulled her stiff body into his.
Slowly, she relaxed until she was lying with her head resting above his heart.
“How did you become a submissive?”
Mari was silent for a while, and then she began to speak. “About five years, ago I was in London, and I followed a mark into a club. I was trying to find the location of a shipment of arms coming in from Mexico. It was a BDSM club, and it piqued my interest. When the job was over, I went back. I initially thought I was a Domme, but I’m naturally submissive, and I found release in letting someone else handle my pleasure.”
“Is it something you need?”
She sat up and rested her hand on his chest as she surveyed him. “Don’t you like it?”
“No, I loved it. It was fucking hot, and I’d like to try more. I just realized I like the strong, sassy side of you too.”
Mari smiled and relaxed back onto him. “No, I don’t need it. I like it when I’m stressed, but I like sex all sorts of ways. I don’t define myself as anything.”
They lay in silence as he ran his hands over her arm in a soft, gentle caress. He had to ask her something, but he didn’t want to blow the mood. Something told him this shouldn’t wait, though. “Can I ask you something?”
He felt her stiffen and then visibly relax. “I guess.”
“Does Leonie Craven know she’s your daughter?”
11
Mustique felt like her entire world stopped at Ash’s words. They reverberated around the room as if he’d shouted them, when, in actuality, he’d merely asked it as if it was a simple question—not the single biggest secret of her life.
He had known all along, and he’d still made love to her as if she was the most special woman in the world. Never in her life had she felt as if she was the most exquisite being to walk the earth. Ash had done that, made her feel things she never had before and Mustique knew she never would with any other man.
“What do you mean?” she hedged, trying to buy time.
Ash sat up and faced her as she pulled away. “Don’t do that. Don’t lie to me or pretend. I don’t care that she is, I just want to know you. Trust me, Mari. I would rather die than hurt you or cause you pain, but I need to understand. Help me?” The plea, and the genuine desire to know her, made her mind up.
She pushed him back to the bed and curled her body into his as a chill hit her skin. “I can’t do this while I look at you. Can you hold me?”
Ash wrapped his arm around her and held her flush to his body, tangling his legs with hers and not letting go. A safety net for when she fell was what he gave her, as if he would always catch her.
Taking a breath, she closed her eyes and let his strong, steady heartbeat calm her frayed nerves. “You know I ended up at the private school in SA. Well, it was exclusive. All the families were white, privileged South Africans with plenty of money. I was already the odd one out; my skin color didn’t fit. I was neither white nor black, and while my parents were doing okay, they weren’t rich like those people.”
“You were bullied?” he asked, and she felt his hands flex on her skin in anger for her treatment.
“I was, until one day when I was fifteen and Ben Rensburg started at the school. His family was richer than God; he was handsome, popular, and, for some reason, he took a shine to me. We began to date and fell in love. I thought his parents liked me, and life was perfect until I got pregnant. Ben was ecstatic when I told him. I was nearly seventeen, and he was eighteen, and we wanted to be a family.”
Mustique felt his lips against her hair, reassuring her, urging her to go on.
Her voice began to wobble as she let the memories of that time wash over her like a tsunami. “We told his family, and they demanded I get an abortion. Ben was horrified, and we said no, that we wanted our child. His parents calmed down, eventually, and it was decided that, with my father traveling a lot for work, I would move in with them.”
Mustique took a steadying breath before she continued. “When I was six months pregnant, Ben, my mom, and his mother came to my scan with me, and we found out it was a girl. My mom was so excited. We had dinner near the beach and laughed and planned what we would call her. Everything was like a dream that day. Then later that night, I was woken by Ben’s mom telling me there had been a home invasion, and my parents had both been killed.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” Ash murmured while he kept holding her as a sob escaped her.
Mustique bit out the rest, knowing she needed to finish the story. She couldn’t do it twice. “I was devastated, but I had to keep going, and Ben was wonderful. I gave birth to Leonie three months later, and it was bittersweet. I adored her at first sight. I fell in love and knew I would die to protect her. She was my world.
“I threw myself into caring for her, fed her myself, got up with her, refused help. But Ben began to pull away. I assumed he was overwhelmed by it all. He began to go out with friends more and more, and we were fighting all the time. I became resentful and threatened to leave and take Leonie with me.”
Ash stroked her back, trying to ease the pain, and she let him, wanting the comfort he offered as she told her story for the first and last time. “When Leonie was six months old, Ben convinced me to go with him and his friends to the beach and leave Leonie with his mom. I was unsure, but he insisted, and I loved him and wanted us to work, so I agreed. I kissed my daughter goodbye and we left. After I got in the car, I had this overwhelming feeling to stop, to go to her, but I put it down to separation anxiety and blew it off. We spent the day at the beach. We had a few drinks, swam, he surfed, and we had fun, but, by early afternoon, I had begun to feel lightheaded and wanted to go home.”
The emotion was choking her now as she relived the worst day of her life, tears streaming down her face as she let the familiar feelings of grief and helplessness overwhelm her. “Ben was angry but agreed to drive me home. I passed out, and when I came to, I was in a field and had no clue where I was. I knew something was wrong; my head was fuzzy, and I was nauseous. I passed out again, and the next time I came to it was dark. I walked to the road and realized I was in Durban, miles from where we lived. I somehow got myself back to the house, but the guard wouldn’t let me in. Said he was under instructions not to admit me.
“I begged and screamed until eventually Ben’s father came to the gate. He told me that I was a fool to think they would let their son waste his life on trash like me and that Leonie would be better off without me. He threw some rand at my feet, probably the equivalent of a hundred dollars, and walked away. I grabbed his leg, and he kicked me. I sobbed and begged, but it was no use, I couldn’t get in.”
“Jesus Christ, Mari.”
“I couldn’t believe Ben was in on it. So I waited three days, until he came out of the house, and followed him to the beach. I confronted him,
and he admitted he’d drugged me and had known what his parents had planned, but he agreed with them that we were too young to be parents, and this was for the best. He gave me a photo of Leonie and told me she had new parents now who could care for her.
“I think I broke that day, and I still don’t think it’s mended, that place inside me. I’ve never felt pain like it. I collapsed into a ball and sobbed. I don’t think I moved off the beach for a long time, not eating or drinking, just existing in limbo. Eventually, some people offered me food and water, then moved me on. I bummed around for a while, not having a plan or caring if I lived or died. My heart was dead, and I honestly wanted to die too. The only thing that kept me from ending it was the hope that one day I would find her and get her back.”
Tears fell down her cheeks, pain that’d been buried for so long consuming her until she could do nothing but hold onto Ash as wave after wave of grief and pain hit her. He let her cry, her tears soaking his chest. He continued to stroke her back and her hair, and kissed her, murmuring sweet words she couldn’t comprehend.
When she was done and emotionally spent, he spoke. “What happened after?” His voice was gruff as if he was holding his emotions in check.
“I eventually met Roz, and she trained me—saved me really. I found Leonie, but, by then, she was a happy six-year-old with a loving home, and I couldn’t give her that. I knew I couldn’t take her back. I would never hurt her, and she was loved. That gave me a small amount of peace knowing they loved her as much as I did.” Her voice was empty now.
“You kept an eye on her?”
“Yes, I always did, and then I found the threat when I checked on her a few weeks back. The night in the restaurant was her birthday, the one day a year I allow myself to mourn losing her.”
“Do you think Craven knows you’re the girl’s biological mother?”
“She told me when we were alone that she knew who I was and begged me not to take her child.”
Ash snorted angrily. “Her child.”
“She didn’t know Leonie had been stolen; her husband hid it from her. She thought it was a legal, private adoption. When she found out after his death, she couldn’t risk losing her daughter, and honestly, I’m not sure I would’ve done anything different in her position.”
“And nobody else knows?”
“Nope, you’re the only person on the planet who knows except those involved.”
“Thank you for trusting me.” He rolled her to her back and gazed down at her with so many emotions flashing in his eyes, it was difficult for her to keep up. “You’re the strongest person I know, and I am so damn sorry that happened to you. If I could go back and stop it, I would in a heartbeat. The desire to hunt every one of them down for what they did to you is a like a thorn in my side.”
Mustique reached up and smoothed his brow with her fingers. “I already did. I ruined them all. His parents are dead, shot in a home invasion similar to the one my parents were murdered in. They had been behind that too; they needed to isolate me.”
“Fuck, sweetheart.”
“Ben is in prison for assault with a deadly weapon and drug dealing. I visited them all, his parents before they died and Ben as he sat rotting in a disgusting cell. I made sure they knew I had done this to them; that I was behind their downfall.”
“How?” He stroked the hair from her face.
“With his parents, I made sure their alarm was off and then let it be known they were out of town. I should feel bad, but I don’t. I guess that makes me as bad as them, but I don’t care. I watched as they were murdered by thieves. My face was the last one they saw as the gang leader put a bullet in each of them and I felt no remorse, yet I couldn’t be the one to pull the trigger—to actually shoot my daughter’s grandparents.”
“And Ben?”
“Oh, he did that himself, I just made sure the police found out.”
“Wow, Mari, good for you.”
“Do you hate me?”
Ash frowned. “Hate you? Why would I hate you?”
“I had those people killed. I set Ben up. I didn’t protect my child.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” He kissed her hard, and she leaned into his warmth, wanting it to last so she never had to see the look of condemnation in his eyes.
He finally pulled back. “I could never hate you. I would’ve done the same thing in your situation. What you’ve been through is more than most people can even comprehend, and you fought back and got even. As for protecting Leonie, you were a child yourself and did everything humanly possible to keep her safe. Even walking away after you found her again. There is no greater love than that.”
She felt the tears fall again. “But you’re a SEAL; you play by the rules.”
“Yes, I am, and I try to play by the rules, but, honey, in your situation, I would have burned the fucking world to the ground and the rule book with it to get even. Fuck, if they weren’t already dead, I’d find those people myself and kill them for you. Why did you never tell anyone else?” He stroked her thigh, making her squirm with renewed desire.
“Shame was one reason; shame I’d failed her. The other was to keep her safe. Zenobi has a lot of enemies, and I would never want her at risk because of me.”
“Well, you have my word—I’ll carry this to the grave. I’ll keep your secrets, Mari, on one condition.”
Mustique frowned, and her heart thudded as she waited for his next sentence. “What?”
“Tell me your real surname.”
Mustique let out a laugh of relief. “Van Der Byl.”
“Marisol Van Der Byl. I like it. It’s regal like you.”
“Ha, I am so not regal.”
“You are, Mari. You are so much more than what you see. I wish you could see yourself how others see you.”
Mustique was on the verge of tears again and needed to lighten the mood. “So, now that you’ve worn me out, can we eat?”
He kissed her lips with a smile on his. “Yes, and then we need to check and see if Jake has emailed us.”
“Back to the real world?”
“Yes, but that includes you and me together now. I won’t lose you; you’re so special to me, Mari.”
His soft words made her heart clench. “Bossy.”
He tipped his head. “Do you not want the same?”
She sensed the importance of the question and recognized the sudden indecision in him. He was vulnerable too, and she would never hurt him. “Yes, I want the same.” She leaned up and kissed him softly, showing him with words what it was too early to say.
12
They sat eating steak, salad, and potatoes while the laptop loaded an email from the secure server. Ash had received a text from Nick saying the information was ready and Moody was holding his own.
“What’s it say?” Mari asked, and he looked at her as she sat cross-legged on the couch, a fork halfway to her mouth. She was sexy as hell; even eating she managed to look hot. He was still in awe of all she’d survived.
He’d known the second he’d laid eyes on Leonie that she was Mari’s daughter. She was the absolute image of her. Hearing their story had gutted him in a way he knew he would never forget. He had seen and heard all forms of pain in his job, but what he felt coming from Mari, as she retold her horror, had torn him to shreds. At that moment, he had fallen in love with her and knew he would do anything to stop her from ever feeling that way again. “It’s loading still—the encryption makes it a little slow.”
Her face was flushed from sex and crying and the emotional onslaught, and yet he had never seen her look more beautiful. She looked perfect in every way, her love and commitment to those she cared for was so pure, it hurt to witness.
The laptop dinged with a notification. “Here we go.” They were both silent as they read it, side by side, taking in the intel and analyzing it. Trident had undoubtedly come through for them with this.
“Am I reading this right?” Ash looked at Mari who’d put down her plate and was re-reading the information
. “If this is correct, it opens up another avenue we hadn’t considered.”
Mari tilted her head to him, and he could imagine the wheels turning in her head. The email included an image of Moody picking Lois up from the front of the hotel, just like she’d said, but Brody had found it in a deleted file on the hotel’s backup server. Moody had been set up, but that wasn’t all; Mari’s German contact had been found dead from a suspected drug overdose.
Trident’s geek had also found footage of a man called Henrique Verwoerd known for taking contract killings for a low price. The man wasn’t that good and that was why he wasn’t in the big leagues.
“This doesn’t add up. My contact sold the product, but he never used it himself. He wasn’t an idiot, so there’s no way he died from an overdose. Secondly, if Henrique Verwoerd is the shooter, it begs the question as to whether all this is connected to me somehow. The fact he’s from South Africa feels like quite the coincidence.”
“Maybe we should tell Jake and Nick about the possible connection?” Ash knew his suggestion might not go down well. Her eyes flashed to him, and he saw fear and pain in them. He reached for her, and she pulled her hand away. He moved, pinning her with his body so she couldn’t get away. “Mari, don’t do that; don’t shut me out.”
“You promised!” Her eyes looked ravaged again, and he hated he’d even suggested it.
“I know, and I meant every word. It was just an idea and a bad one. Forgive me?” Ash held his weight off her but kept her beneath him, so she couldn’t physically run. He palmed her cheek and held his eyes locked on hers, so she could see the genuine regret in them.
“Please, baby? I would rather cut off my own arm than hurt you. I don’t know what’s happening between us, but I know it means more to me than anything that came before, and I would never jeopardize that by betraying you.”
“It took a lot for me to trust you, Ash. You asking that frightens me.”
“I know, and I won’t ask again. I was thinking of the mission, not what we’d shared.”