Sweet: A Dark Love Story

by Saxton, R. E.

  Warmth filled her at the words, and she did her best to shrug it off and force back the reaction. Pretending like he hadn’t said something so sweet, yet heartbreaking, she said, “I don’t need a therapist to know where the fear comes from. There’s no magical cure for it.”

  He frowned. “I don’t think there’s a magical cure for anything, Kat, but maybe it would help to talk it over with someone.”

  She rolled her eyes. “What, you’re just going to let me off the island for my weekly therapy appointments?”

  He winked at her. “We have Skype, and there’s always the telephone.”

  “Things to which I have no access,” she said bitterly.

  “You will someday, as soon as you’ve proven yourself worthy of the trust. In the meantime, I can always sit beside you when you have your sessions.”

  She scoffed. “And make sure I’m not saying anything you don’t want me to say? No, thanks. Anyway, like I said, it’s no mystery why I’m terrified of the water.”

  He was floating now, though his hands gripped the pool on either side of her legs, and his head pressed against her knee. The wet strands of hair clung to her skin, and she felt overwhelmingly smothered for just a moment, convinced Declan would physically meld their bodies together if he could.

  The moment passed, and she took a deep breath. “When I was four years old, my bat-shit insane mother tried to drown me in the bathtub.”

  Declan gasped, his eyes widened in shock. “Your own mother? Who could do that to their child?”

  “Like I said, she was pretty fucking nuts. I don’t know her official diagnosis, but my father and uncles always called her Nutjob.”

  “What happened?”

  She shrugged. “I’m not really sure. I know she was remanded to some kind of mental hospital for a while, and eventually, I think she got out, but she never looked me up. For all I know, she could still be alive, but I don’t care.”

  He rubbed his damp cheek against her shin, in a gesture that was surprisingly soothing. “I can’t blame you there, but I meant what happened the day of the…incident?”

  Again, Kat shrugged. “I don’t know what set her off, and I don’t remember much about the day, but you can guarantee I’ll never forget the terror of being held underwater. I think I remember her praying, and I think she was going through a super religious phase at the time, so she probably thought I was possessed by the devil or something.

  “The woman was fucking crazy, but thankfully, my useless father actually did one good thing in his life. He happened to arrive home in time to save me, and surprisingly, not too drunk to do so for a change. He beat the crap out of my mom before calling nine-one-one, and then he finally remembered to check on me.”

  Declan looked appalled.

  She managed a tight smile. “It was fortunate I didn’t need CPR, I suppose, or I would have been dead by the time he was done with her. She was shipped off to wherever, and he spent a couple nights in jail until the judge released him on compassionate grounds. I don’t remember all of this, of course, but my uncles and my dad filled in the details over the years. They always liked to drag up the topic of my mom and her craziness, especially if I was doing something they didn’t understand or agree with. Then I was always crazy Irene’s daughter.”

  “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how terrifying that must have been, but it does sound like a situation where therapy might help you get over your fear of water.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I don’t intend to bother, Declan. I have no burning desire to be on the swim team, and I don’t sail, and my life is not exactly chock-full of the opportunities to take pleasure cruises. Even if it were, I’d die either way, whether I was a swimmer or not, if the ship capsized in the middle of the ocean. I literally have no reason to get over my fear of water.”

  He raised himself out of the pool slowly, dripping water on her bare skin. “You live on an island, babe. It might be a good idea to learn how to swim.”

  She sighed. “No, I’m being held captive on an island, and I intend to escape it someday, but it won’t be by trying to swim fourteen miles.”

  His right eye twitched, but his expression betrayed nothing when he said in a lighthearted voice, “Fourteen nautical miles, babe. A nautical mile is longer than a mile.”

  She rolled her eyes yet again. “Whatever. Just drop it, okay? And please don’t ask me to come out here to the pool with you again.”

  He nodded. “I won’t bother you about it for now, but I reserve the right to talk about this again later.”

  Frustrated, she wiggled back away from him and got to her feet when she was far from the edge of the pool. “Then you can talk it over with yourself, because this topic of conversation is closed.” Without waiting for a reply, she turned and stomped into the house on her wet feet, moving gingerly across the travertine tile to avoid slipping and killing herself. That would be far too ironic, to die indirectly because of water after having come so close to doing so as a child.

  She had gone to the kitchen, taking out her aggression on a pile of vegetables, and he found her there a few minutes later. She braced herself for him to continue badgering her, but was thankful when he only introduced light topics. Her ears perked when he mentioned casually, “The grocery delivery will be coming in a few days, so if there’s anything you’d like to be added to the list, just let me know.”

  As she contemplated how she might find a way to escape with the delivery person, she rattled off a few things, taking particular pleasure in adding, “And a box of tampons.” Her period had come a few days early, since she had stopped taking the pills, and she was almost out of the stash she had brought with her. That was behind her for another month, but she prayed she would need more next month.

  “A small box,” he said softly.

  Pretending to be naïve, she asked, “Oh, you can’t afford a large box?”

  “You won’t need them for long. This month was the last.”

  She laughed, though she wasn’t entirely amused. “Even you can’t just order me to get knocked up, Declan. It doesn’t work that way, and I intend to stave it off as long as possible.”

  His fist slammed on the table, making her jump, though she didn’t look up from the mangled vegetables. “It doesn’t work that way either, Kat. It will happen when it happens, but since I’ve been fucking you every day and filling you with my cum, it’s bound to happen sooner rather than later.”

  She couldn’t deny that was the truth. Even when she had been bleeding for three days, he had still wanted her, though he did use a condom.

  A moment later, he spoke again, and his voice was completely calm and even. “Is there anything else you’d like to add to the list?”

  Feeling a bit like a smartass, she added, “Sure. A file and a rubber raft, so maybe I can dig my way out of prison and escape on the open sea. Or die trying, if my raft sinks.”

  “Dammit, Kat, will you knock off that shit today?”

  Very carefully, she placed the knife on the chopping block before turning to look at him. “Why?” she asked sweetly. “Do my references to escape upset your delusional little world you’ve built here? I guess it’s not a pretty reminder that you’re fooling yourself into believing we’re the typical couple living the happily ever after dream here. Reminders are good for you sometimes.” She was speaking just as much to herself with the harsh reminder that this was an illusion, and she was surrendering to it too easily.

  He radiated anger as he shoved back from the table, throwing down the pen he’d been using to write the grocery list. He was vibrating with the force of his emotions as he stormed toward her, clamping her upper arm in his hand. She tried to pull way, even as part of her—the deep, dark part of her that she tried to keep locked away—reveled in his show of anger.

  He was angry, but she had no doubt he was still in control, and part of her was soothed by the notion. That didn’t mean she didn’t try to fight and jerk away as he dragged her up the stairs behind him, taking
her to his room instead of hers. Most nights, he allowed her the illusion of separate rooms, letting her go to bed alone before slipping in to join her.

  Her stomach twisted with anxiety as he brought her inside and closed the door behind them, slamming it shut before locking it. He had a far more extensive arsenal of tools at his disposal in his room, and she questioned the wisdom of having provoked him to this point. But how could she not stand up for herself and remind both of them that she wasn’t here willingly?

  And had she provoked this response because she needed a reminder from him of how he could control and master her, having been unaware of craving discipline and pain all these years? It was an insane notion, and she had no time to ponder it as he tossed her on the bed less-than-gently before going to the armoire in the corner.

  That was where he kept all of the things that he used or dreamed about using on her. Sometimes, late at night, he would whisper his dark fantasies to her as she slipped over the edge into sleep. Occasionally, those images had followed her into dreams, where they had turned to sensual visions that had her waking up wet and aching.

  She shivered with a mix of dread and anticipation as he strode back to her, two strips of leather in his hand. She frowned at them with confusion. “What’s that?”

  “Get on your knees on the floor,” he said firmly.

  She shook her head, part of her knowing she was being deliberately defiant simply because she wanted to see his response. She crossed her arms over her heaving chest, deliberately hiding her nipples from his hungry gaze. “I’m done following your crazy orders. When the boat comes to bring your groceries, I’m going to be on it. I’m leaving you.”

  Those were the words that sent him over the edge, and she could see it as plainly as the sun shone through the window. It was like flipping a switch, and he went from controlled crazy to raging crazy in the blink of an eye. As he dragged her from the bed and shoved her to her knees, a surge of satisfaction shot through her, and she had an epiphany of her own.

  She was pushing him because she needed to know how far she could, and how long he could maintain control. She couldn’t risk surrendering to him if she couldn’t trust all of him, no matter how angry or out-of-control he was.

  His hands were rough when they slid a stiff collar around her neck, and she tried to fight it. He grabbed a handful of her hair and forced her head back with a sharp twinge of pain in her scalp. “You’re not leaving me. Not now or ever. Get that through your head. I’ll put up with a lot of your shit, but not threats to leave me. You belong to me now, Kat.”

  “Fuck you,” she said, feeling a little crazy and out of control herself as she deliberately provoked him, but also desperate to see the worst of him. She had to know if she could withstand it.

  He pulled her hair again sharply, as though for good measure, before releasing his hold to use both hands to fasten the collar around her neck. She tried to look down to see what he was doing, but the angle made it impossible to discern much of anything. She heard the sound of leather sliding through leather and realized a moment later the other piece of leather was a longer strap that threaded through the collar. He fastened it somehow on the front, and then he lifted the leather strap for her to see.

  “This will control your breathing while I’m fucking you any way I want to.” As a demonstration, he tugged on the line, and the collar tightened around her throat uncomfortably.

  “Undo this thing and let me up.” She’d provoked the beast, and while she understood the logic of seeing him at his worst, she was suddenly certain she was unprepared for the reality. Fear thrummed in her, and to her great disgust, arousal welled as well. The two were becoming intimately linked whenever she was with him, as was pain with pleasure. This was nuts. She shouldn’t be able to be aroused and terrified of the same thing or the same person at the same time.

  He tugged on the makeshift leash, forcing her to crawl forward on her knees or risk being strangled. She complied, glaring up at him the entire time.

  “I don’t know why you want to push me, but I won’t stand for it. I’m going to take care of you and give you what you need, and right now, you need some serious discipline. I should beat your ass until it’s bright red and bruises to black and blue in a pattern that stays on your cheeks for days.” His mouth tightened. “I have a feeling that’s exactly what you want. You want to push me to lose control and give you justification for running away. I won’t do it, Kat, and I won’t let you sabotage us.”

  She rolled her eyes, even as a dart of guilt pierced her from his perceptiveness. “There’s no us to sabotage, and you’re being delusional again. You’re holding me captive. How can you expect me to cooperate, and why would I ever try to provoke you? You terrify me.”

  He gripped her chin in a hard hold, forcing her to look up at him. “That’s complete bullshit, and you know it. I’ll concede you’re probably afraid sometimes, but even then, you’re also turned on and aching for me to take you. I bet right now if I put my fingers between your legs, I’d find a soaking wet pussy. You get scared, but you also get off on the fear. I know what you’re doing, and I won’t play that game.”

  She stared up at him with wide eyes, unable to let it go. Instead, she touched the collar around her neck. “So you’re playing another game?”

  He laughed, and it was a cold sound that made her shiver and reminded her just how afraid she had been the first day she’d come to his island, before he had ever taken her to bed. “No, you’re the one playing games, and you’re going to do all the work.”

  She glared up at him. “I’m done playing games.”

  He laughed again, this time a low and sensual sound. “We’ll find out.”

  Still leading her on the leash, he made her walk on her knees behind him as he went back to the armoire. He didn’t have to rummage around, clearly having organized all of his torture implements however he wished in whatever fashion, and knew exactly where everything was. His hand emerged a moment later, and he extended a clamp to her. “Put this on your nipple.”

  She took it and threw it across the room in a show of defiance.

  He sighed, reaching into the drawer again. At first, she was certain he would pull out another clamp, so her eyes widened with shock when he brought out a small flogger instead. Recalling how it stung when it slapped across her flesh, she put up her hands to cover her face. “You can’t hit me with that.”

  “That’s not your call, babe, but you know I’d never strike your face.” He tugged on the leash, forcing her to bend forward to avoid choking. He didn’t stop tugging until her face was near the floor, her forehead pressed to the carpet, and her palms flat on each side of her face. The position left her ass exposed and angled into the air, and she trembled in fear edged with anticipation while she waited for the crack of the leather.

  When it came a moment later, she screamed in shock. It wasn’t the flogger she’d expected. At some point, he had switched it out for something hard and wooden. A cane, perhaps? It hit her butt forcefully again before he whacked her a couple of times across her upper back, clearly make an effort to steer clear of her kidneys.

  Apparently, he knew how to safely beat his lover. She shouldn’t find it kind of sweet and sexy that he had taken the time to learn, rather than just indulge in his dark desires without any safety or guidelines.

  “Sit up.”

  She did so gingerly, expecting to feel the taut snap of the leather around her neck, but he didn’t hold it tightly, and she was able to sit up with no pain or restriction on her breathing.

  No pain until her freshly spanked cheeks touched her calves anyway. She winced and shifted slightly to alleviate some of the pressure. Her back stung too, but already she could feel it was a good pain, the kind that mingled with pleasure, and she knew he was right. If he touched her pussy right now, or even her thighs, he’d find her dripping wet with need. She was completely fucked up.

  Once more, he handed her a clamp, and this one was attached to another with
a chain. “The other one was softer, sweetie, and perfect for a newbie. Instead, you’ll use these and remember you brought this on yourself. Put them on.”

  With a mutinous scowl, she ripped the clamp from his hands and eyed the mechanism. “I don’t know how,” she said with a little smirk. Kat was tempted to throw it too, figuring he had to run out of them sometime, but the cane he’d laid atop the armoire was a good reminder of why she shouldn’t do that.

  He rolled his eyes and took the set from her, showing her how to open the ring and then tighten it. “Put them on.”

  She thought about resisting, but she couldn’t deny she was deeply curious about how they would feel. And she wasn’t certain she wanted to stick with her impulsive plan of pushing his limits. With a sigh that revealed her annoyance and reluctance, one that she embellished slightly, she repeated the motion he had used to open the clamp and slip it on her nipple.

  “No. Behind the nipple, not on. You don’t want to damage the delicate tissue.”

  Complying with his instructions, she fastened it in the right spot before sliding on the other one, leaving them loose.

  “Now come here and suck my cock.”

  She was surprised by the fact that he didn’t make her tighten the clamps, and even more surprised by the order to go down on him. He had not yet made her do that. When it came to oral, he seemed to be the one addicted to it, his face between her thighs whenever he had a spare moment, licking her until she came to the point of bone-weary exhaustion, always followed by fucking her two or three more times. She was exhausted, yet further aroused, just thinking about it.

  She stayed where she sat, arching a brow. “I don’t do that.”

  He laughed, sounding amused rather than annoyed. “You mean you’ve never gone down on a guy before?”

  She shook her head. “No, I haven’t. I find the idea disgusting.”

  “Get over that prudish reaction, babe, because you’re about to give your first.” He pulled sharply on the leash, forcing her to crawl toward him again. When her face was level with his crotch, he stop tugging, though he held her leash tautly so she couldn’t struggle away without hurting herself or cutting off her oxygen.