Bonds of Hope

by Lynda Aicher

  “Let’s sit down.” He motioned toward the couch.

  Gone was the overbearing Dom who had been in the Dungeon. It was like he’d tossed that persona away when they’d entered his loft. But he was still in control in his own firm way. This was the man she’d fallen for. She didn’t want to say in love with, because that was too fast and stupid and scary to admit. No, what she’d come to feel for him couldn’t be love.

  She took a seat next to him, staying far enough away to ensure they didn’t touch. She didn’t trust herself not to be swayed by something as simple as his hand on her knee. He turned to face her, his long arm stretching along the back of the couch. Quinn clasped her hands on her lap to keep from reach out to him.

  “I didn’t expect you so early.”

  As a start to the conversation, it wasn’t what she’d expected him to say. Her defenses went up and she bit back the bitter reply that instantly formed then thought better of it and let it fly. “I didn’t know I had to check in with you on my every move.”

  He sighed and ran a hand through his thick hair once again. “That’s not what I meant. I don’t like you wandering around the club without me.”

  She straightened her spine at his implication. At this point, she wasn’t about to tell him that she hadn’t really enjoyed it either. “You don’t trust me?”

  “It’s not that. Of course I trust you. It’s just...” He looked away and took a breath before continuing. “You’re mine. That collar around your neck declares it to everyone at The Den. Yet you were roaming freely through the club, declaring my lack of control over you.”

  She rejected his words almost instantly. “You’re worried about your image? This is about how my actions reflected on you as a Dom?”

  “No. Yes.” He shook his head. “Shit.”

  “What about how your actions reflect on me?” She pressed a hand to her chest and leaned forward, her conviction pushing her words out. “I’m your so-called sub, yet you have no problem Domming others. How do you think I felt watching you do all that stuff to that man, knowing all those people watching were also thinking how little I must mean to you if you can still fuck around with others.”

  “I’m a professional Dom,” he insisted, his voice hard and angry. “It’s what I get paid to do. You know this about me. I got him off as part of the Scene, Yes. But I didn’t come and I didn’t fuck him with my dick. That’s for you alone. I told you that.”

  She sat back, her breath rushing out in short gasps. There was no explaining the pain that balled in her stomach and rolled up her chest. She bit her lip and tried to corral her thoughts. She couldn’t do the same with her emotions. They were already too out of control.

  “You’re right. I’ve known it all along.” She stood, locking her knees to keep from falling. “I obviously have no right to ask you to change your life for me.” She fingered the collar. For the first time, the press of the leather on her skin was abrasive and painful. “I think you should take this off. We were only temporary anyway.” It physically hurt to say those words. Yet she wasn’t taking them back. This was right.

  “No.” He jumped to his feet, his eyes blazing. “I’m not taking your collar off. We can fix this.”

  A calm descended over her in response to his anger and denial. She closed her eyes and dropped mentally lower until she found that core within her that could hold strong. It’d gotten her through so much crap in her life, weathered so many accusations, digs, gibes, taunts and ridicule that she was surprised there was anything left to hold on to. But it was there and it closed around her to protect her once again.

  She opened her eyes and took him in. He gripped his hips in a white-knuckled hold that forced his arm muscles to tighten and bulge. Fierce, that was how he looked. But amazingly, not threatening. The urge to cuddle into his strength and hide beneath his offered safety was so tempting. But she couldn’t. She had to walk away now if she had any chance of doing so.

  “What is there to fix?” She wasn’t being snide. It was an honest question. “We weren’t supposed to be permanent. This was an experiment that went too far. We got carried away with something that can never be. It’s better to end it now before it gets any messier.” Marcus stepped forward, and she thrust out her hand to stop him. “Don’t. Please.”

  “Damn it, Quinn.” He threw his hands in the air and stalked away to grab a football off the island bar. “I don’t want us to end like this.”

  “Then tell me, what did you expect to happen?”

  “I don’t know.” He spun back around but stayed on the other side of the room, the ball clenched in his hand. The low light from lamp didn’t quite reach him, leaving his face in the soft glow of hazy shadows. “I just... God. I don’t want you to leave.”

  “And what?” She lifted her hands in confusion. “You expect me to drop my entire life, my career, everything to move here to be your good little submissive?”

  “No,” he insisted, the emphatic emphasis punched through the room. “You know me better than that.”

  “Do I?” If someone had asked her this afternoon, she’d have agreed with him. But now, nothing was clear. “How well do we really know each other? You’ve never asked about my life, my career or my coming role as a submissive. Not talking about it doesn’t make it not exist.”

  He took a step forward, tossing the football against the wall then stopped. The restraint kept his shoulders rigid. “I didn’t hound you about your acting career because I figured it was the last thing you wanted to talk about. I wanted this to be about us.” He waved his hand between them. “You and me. Not your persona or image or any of the crap you live with every day.”

  “So you’re okay with me kneeling to another man, kissing him and even fucking him on camera?”

  “God, no. Are you crazy?” He stalked away then spun around. “You won’t fuck him. You’re not doing porn.” He came up short, his face dropping to a deadly glower. “Are you?”

  She wanted to laugh, a sick, tired laugh that would make it all go away, but she couldn’t. “No. I’m not doing porn. But to the world, it will look like I’m having sex with him. Are you okay with that?”

  His jaw was clenched so tight it was a wonder his teeth didn’t crack. She didn’t need his words to know his answer.

  “That’s my job,” she said. “You haven’t talked about it because a part of you can’t accept it.” She understood that now. He’d warned her Doms were possessive. She may have been willing to concede on some things, but she would never give up her career for him. “What about your persona?” she pressed when he didn’t respond. “Your image that you were so worried about downstairs?”

  “That...shit.” He pressed his lips closed before looking away. A breath puffed out and his shoulders dropped in apparent resignation. “You wear my collar, yet you defied me in the one place you can’t. What was I supposed to do? This is my job.” He shook his head, his eyes on the ground. “If you’d only shown up when you were supposed to, we’d be fine right now.”

  He hadn’t physically touched her, but the admonishment struck her anyway. In that second, she understood there was nothing left to say. She needed to get out of there the fastest way possible before she fell apart. She’d given him so much, but she refused to give him her tears.

  “You’re right. It’s my fault. I’m sorry.” She forced her legs to move, each step toward the door a conscious action she had to make happen. “Thank you for the training. I’m positive I’ll be able to portray my role much more realistically now.”

  “God. I didn’t mean it like that, Quinn.” He was across the room, blocking her exit in a few brisk strides. “Don’t go. It’s not your fault. Okay?”

  She tilted her head as if the angle would let her see him differently. It didn’t. He was still the same handsome man that she’d first met. Maybe she did see him better now. Beneath his confident exterior, commanding presence and boyish charm lay a center of arrogance that he probably didn’t even recognize.

  �
�But it is, isn’t? I didn’t follow your rules. I made my own choice and came here early tonight, and this is the result. It’s not like this conversation wasn’t going to happen. I’m leaving on Sunday.” She shrugged, hoping the motion came across as if it wasn’t killing her to say those words. “A few days doesn’t matter. It was fun, now it’s done.”

  “I don’t believe that,” he snarled then moved before she could flee. He grabbed her up, swung around and had her pressed against the wall. Her small squeak of protest was swallowed by him as her legs clasped around his waist, her heels clattering to the floor. He took her mouth with a boldness that held the desperation vibrating through him. She didn’t resist, even though she knew she should. It was too hot, too good to stop.

  She dug her fingers into his hair and pulled him closer. The need to get every last taste of him pushed her, the urgency scraping over her nerves until she burned with the desire to have him one last time. His hands were everywhere, rubbing her legs, stroking her ribs, cupping her breasts. It wasn’t enough.

  She shouldn’t say it. It was stupid and wrong, but it came out anyway. “Please, Marcus.” Did he know what she was begging for? She wasn’t certain herself.

  “God, Quinn.” His voice was gruff with the wild need that had claimed her too. He gave a hard suck at the juncture of her neck and shoved her dress up to her waist.

  Her head smacked against the drywall with a thud, but it was incidental to the hard pinch on her nipples. Her dress was now a wad of material bunched around her middle, leaving the rest of her exposed to Marcus’s greedy hands and mouth.

  “Yes,” she panted. The air was suddenly too thin, as if they’d climbed to ten thousand feet without leaving the loft. She was dizzy, intoxicated with the rush to have him in her. To fill her as no one else could.

  “You’re mine, Quinn.” He plunged a finger into her wet and gripping channel, and she arched to meet each, hard thrust. She jerked on his hair and attacked his mouth with another hot kiss. She was his. He was right. But she couldn’t stay. Couldn’t be everything he wanted her to be. But she could take this, give him this last thing.

  She ripped her mouth from his and bit his shoulder, her teeth sinking into the flesh with purpose. “Yes, Marcus.”

  He growled and worked another finger into her passage. It felt so good. Exquisite.

  She swallowed her whimper and whispered, “And you’re mine.”

  His skin was slick beneath her hands, the heat soaking into her palms. She clenched her legs tighter to ride each thrust of his fingers. His thumb hit her clit, and she cried out at the hit of pleasure that curled her stomach muscles. She scrambled to hold on, her nails scraping over his shoulders before she dug them into his tender flesh. Forget the harness, she want to hold on to him.

  “Christ,” he snapped as he fiddled with the waist of his pants.

  “Hurry.” She was empty now and the walls of her vagina clenched in search of him. “Please.”

  Then his cock was there, hot and hard at her entrance. She didn’t wait for his command or for him to push into her. No, she couldn’t wait. She plunged her hips down, taking his length in a single stroke.

  “Fuck.”

  His breathy curse conveyed her sentiments exactly. He filled her completely, his girth stretching her until she was crazy with the urge to move. To hold still. To savor and plunder. This is what she needed. He was exactly what she’d always desired. But she couldn’t keep him. It simply wasn’t possible.

  She raised and lowered herself, his hard member stroking her inner walls in a luxurious slide over sensitive tissue. Her orgasm was right there, so close with so little effort.

  “Shit. Stop.” Marcus grabbed her hips and held her still. She stared into his eyes, amazed at his control. “Condom.”

  She closed her eyes and groaned. “Right. Hurry.” She almost told him to forget it, but that would be stupid and irresponsible.

  He pulled out and fumbled in his pocket. It only took a few seconds for him to get the protection on, but it was enough to slow the frenzy and catch her breath. The pause allowed the reality and doubt to surface when she hadn’t wanted it to.

  She cupped his face, forcing him to look at her. There was so much in his eyes. Passion, possession, hurt and something deeper—truer—that touched her heart and said the one thing neither of them had dared to voice. What had been a passion-ridden excuse of wildness was now a conscious act of joining. One she wanted.

  He eased back into her, and she couldn’t stop the sigh that released in time with her decent.

  “You’re beautiful, Quinn.” He cupped her bottom and lifted her on his shaft. “Perfect.” He timed his thrust with her lowering to fill her again. “Everything I want.”

  Her eyes stung from the emotion in his words. She squeezed them closed to hold back the darn tears, but it didn’t work very well. She grabbed his head and kissed him. Showing what she refused to say. Giving what she could the only way she’d let herself. For all she’d said about him not knowing her, he truly knew the real her better than anyone else in her life.

  The pace increased, his cock ramming into her until she had to break the kiss to breathe. She gave everything back, meeting each jab and wanting more. She reached for that fulfillment that only came with him. He slapped her butt, and she tensed and clenched around the spreading sting. He struck her twice more, the heat setting her ass and pussy on fire. She was mindless now, her body his to claim.

  He grabbed her wrists and slammed them against the wall. He stretched them high, forcing her chest out and taking her weight like it was nothing. He was completely in control, and she gave it to him.

  Her hair stuck to her neck and cheek, her nipples chaffed over the hard rivets that adorned his harness and her thighs burned from the prolonged clamp around his hips. It was debauched and carnal like she’d never experienced. Even with him. There was something raw about their joining that ripped apart her shields and exposed her heart.

  “Please,” she cried. Again, she wasn’t sure what she was begging for. For this to last or end? For her heart back? For him? Everything?

  “Yes,” he chanted in time with each drive into her. “Yes. Fuck. Yes. Come, Quinn. Come with me.”

  He sunk his teeth into her shoulder, and she rode the pain-washed pleasure through the crash of her orgasm. He grunted, tensed and jerked his release as she absorbed every last sensation that merged between them.

  It was long moments later before she came back to her senses. His breath cooled her damp neck, her shoulders and thighs were sore and a kink was growing into a persistent throb in her back. She tugged on her wrists, and he released his hold so she could drop her arms across his sweat-slickened shoulders. The scent of come, sex and him flooded her nose with each deep inhale as she slowly descended from her high.

  It was fitting in a strange way that they would finally finish what they’d started that very first day. Then it’d been to prove a point. Now...the point to be made was too late to fix.

  After another span of time, he eased his softened cock out of her and lowered her feet to the ground. Her legs shook, forcing her to cling to him until she was confident she could stand. Now what? That wasn’t supposed to have happened. But it did. And it didn’t change anything.

  He cupped her face and tilted it up until he could press a gentle kiss to her tender lips. The contradiction after the mad, frantic sex had her pulse stammering.

  He leaned back and peered into her with eyes that were as dark and full of emotion as she’d ever seen them. “I love you, Quinn,” he almost whispered, the throaty gravel edge of his voice keeping his words audible. “You have to know that by now.”

  She shook her head, the denial automatic. “You can’t. It’ll never work.” The panic attacked her in a flash that had her insides churning. She ducked out of his hold, scrambling away. “I’m not what you want.”

  “Yes, you are,” he insisted but let her go.

  His back was stiff, his stride stilted as he moved
to the kitchen. He swiped a paper towel off the roll on the counter. He couldn’t mean it. She didn’t want to believe it. It would only hurt more if she accepted his words as truth and her heart was already shattered. It had to be, based on the ache that gripped her chest.

  She turned away and focused on straightening her dress. The stretchy cotton material conformed to her body without a problem, but she took an extra moment to smooth her sweaty palms down her front, brushing away non-existent wrinkles.

  She was slipping her heels back on when he returned from the kitten, his own cleanup completed. Her hands shook and she fisted them to keep that hidden. She had to be strong, no matter how weak she felt.

  “I’m going to leave now.” Unfortunately, she wasn’t able to mask the tremble in her voice.

  “Why?” He shook his head. “I don’t... How can you leave after that?” He motioned to the wall as if that explained everything. The tight lines of frustration were back on his brow. Coupled with the spiked mess of his hair, he looked wild, bold and more than intimidating. But she couldn’t bow or break under the pressure.

  “That was just sex,” she said dismissively. She smoothed her palms down the material of her dress once again. She shook her hair back and lifted her chin. “I’d thought you of all people would know the difference between lust and love.”

  “I do.” He emphasized the word with a forceful step forward. “I’ve fucked plenty of people, I won’t deny that. But I’ve only loved one. You.”

  Oh, God. She was crumbling inside. This was all wrong, right and everything she’d never wanted to face. He was a professional Dom. She would never be enough for him. And the thought that she just might be was somehow even more terrifying. “I’m sorry.” She shook her head and edged toward the door. “But I can’t love you back.”

  With that she fled. She had to run or be lost completely.

  She jerked the door open and sprinted down the hall, the whole time waiting for the thunder of his boots that never came. She stumbled into the elevator and frantically pushed the button for the first floor. Her panicked breaths matched her out-of-control pulse that didn’t subside as the doors slid closed.