by Maisey Yates
“Of course I do.”
“You’re not going to try and tell me you loved her, are you?” Austin asked.
Jason sat back in his chair, his expression flat, emotionless. “I had a train when I was a child.” He picked up a small glass figurine from Austin’s desk, a model of the New York skyline. “A small, wooden one. It was very intricate, lots of moving parts.” Jason turned it over in his hand, his thumb moving over the Empire State Building. “One day I was playing with it, and it broke.” He snapped the top of the building off, leaving a bead of blood on the top of his thumb. He stared at it for a moment, not reacting. Not even making the smallest showing of pain. Then he set the damaged skyline back on Austin’s desk. “I remember crying. And feeling the loss of it, even though it was nothing more than a toy. And if asked, I would have said I loved that train, because I certainly missed playing with it.” He put his hands behind his head, ignoring the blood. “What child isn’t sad when he breaks his favorite toy?”
“Sarah was not a toy,” Austin said, his voice choked. “Katy isn’t my toy.”
His father laughed. “At least I know myself. You’re my son, and you’ve always been so like me. Let me guess...you like that she’s young. Poor. That you have all the power in the relationship. That she has to live in your house, use all of your things. That you get off on her being your inferior. You like to dominate her. You probably like her even more because of whose sister she is. And a pity for me that you got to her first. Because I would have so liked to use her. Though, sharing is always nice. I enjoyed sharing Sarah. Because you should always share your toys.”
Austin reached out, and before he could temper himself, he had his fingers wrapped around his father’s throat. The older man’s eyes went wide, genuine fear in them, fear that fueled Austin’s rage, that offered a kick of adrenaline and satisfaction unlike anything he’d ever experienced.
He wanted his fear. He wanted him to know just what it was like to be afraid for your life. For your sanity. Like his mother had been for years. Like Sarah had been.
Like every woman he’d ever abused had been.
“You’re about to learn a couple of things about me, and that spine I grew,” Austin said. “I don’t share. And I don’t forgive. And I’m not that scared of what might happen to me if I tighten my grasp right now.”
“You don’t want to spend the rest of your life in prison.”
“I don’t know. Seems like it might be worth it.” He pressed his thumb a little harder into the soft spot at the base of his father’s throat. “We’re both full of surprises, aren’t we?”
The fear in Jason’s eyes intensified, fuel for his own anger, for the feeling of utter, invincible power that was coursing through his veins.
“You wouldn’t.”
He loosened his grip, stepped away. “No, you’re right. I wouldn’t. The short road to hell is too good for you. I’d like you to suffer a bit in this life first. You’re right about something else, too—I’m not naive. I do know exactly what you are. And I will take great joy in bleeding all your assets from you. In watching you fall to earth, like she did. I will break you. And I will enjoy hearing your bones snap.” He straightened his tie and met his father’s cold, hard gaze. “I can’t take your case, because I’ll be taking Mom’s case. I am an actual advocate for women, after all.” He turned to face the windows, looked at the traffic moving below. Then he turned back to Jason. “I’m going to enjoy this. Watching you suffer. Watching you lose everything.”
Jason stood, his expression ashen. “I knew you were like me,” he said, his voice tight and hoarse, thanks in part to the grip Austin had had on it. “You think you aren’t, because you’re fighting against me, but the fact that you like it this much... You are my son. Make no mistake in that.”
“Fine. And if all me being your son ever accomplishes is ending you? Then I accept that. If I need to be like you to destroy you? I’ll do that. Get ready to fight. This divorce, and everything that comes after, is going to be uglier than you could have ever imagined.”
His father turned and walked out the door and Austin let out a long breath, adrenaline coursing through him. Yes, he knew exactly who he was. What he was. And right now he didn’t care.
He was going to win the war by any means necessary.
The only thing that surprised him was how much he was enjoying it.
He walked down the corridor, long strides carrying him out of the building. His body was pumping with adrenaline and all he could think of was Katy.
Of how he wanted her. The ways he wanted her. He wanted to burn all of this away with their passion. He needed to...
You’re my son, and you’ve always been so like me.
You like to dominate her.
Was that all this was? A way for him to enjoy helplessness and exercise control in the guise of a sexual fantasy? Was he just like his father, only so unaware?
No.
He didn’t need to do that to her. He didn’t need to want it. He curled his shaking hands into fists. If he needed control so badly, he could damn well control himself.
Tonight, he would give Katy something else entirely. Tonight, he would prove that he could.
* * *
Katy hummed tunelessly as she reheated last night’s takeout. She was poring over new thoughts of revenge, on ways she would put Jason Treffen’s head on a pike and parade around with it, put it on display.
Metaphorically, of course. Well, literally had its appeal as well, but she wouldn’t go there.
Soon, she would be figuring out ways to exploit his newly vulnerable position. With the divorce coming together, since it was certain Lenore Treffen would be filing, Jason would be open to media attacks, and his wealth would start to drain.
The other part of her good mood was Austin. Which was a nice change of pace, to have something other than revenge make her feel happy.
Austin had been gone when she’d woken up. At work on New Year’s Day. But then, that was why he was a billionaire, she supposed.
She wished he was home, though.
She snorted. When had she started thinking of Austin’s deluxe penthouse in the sky as home? It sure as hell wasn’t her home.
Still, the thought made her ache a little bit around her heart.
Grr. Her freaking heart again. Only her body was supposed to be involved. Not her heart.
The front door opened and Austin walked in, his eyes dark, his eyebrows drawn together, his walk purposeful.
She knew, without him saying anything, just what he had on his mind.
“I need you.” There was a desperation to his tone, an absence of command. It was disturbing.
She just stood there for a second, totally stunned, because this was coming out of nowhere for her. She’d had nothing but a nice quiet morning. A sex-free shower and the nuking of leftover Chinese food didn’t add up to sexy times in her head.
But clearly, he had other ideas.
“Are you asking for permission?”
“Yes, darling. Please.”
“Did you hit your head?” she asked.
“No.” He approached her, cupped her cheek, his palm warm against her skin. He leaned in and kissed her lightly. Gently. So gently it hurt, and not in a good way. Not in a way she could handle.
Emotion swelled in her chest, rising gently along with his touch, and she wanted to turn and run from it. Wanted to push him away.
She didn’t want this sweet, soft side of him. It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough to keep her demons back. She couldn’t open herself up to feeling without something to balance it. Without something to help take the pressure away.
The tug of her hair, the firm grip of his hands on her hips, rough words that put a layer of protection over the warm feelings that always poured through her when they touched.<
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She couldn’t do it. It made her want to hold him forever. It made her want to cry. Her stupid heart.
She needed her body back in charge.
“Take me,” she said against his lips.
“I am.” His fingers drifted beneath her shirt, and for the first time, she noticed he was shaking.
“No,” she said, pulling away. “Stop with the tenderness crap. Take me. Hard. Push me down. Make me...”
“No,” he said.
“Why not? Why not take what we both want?”
“I don’t need it. It was just a game. It’s time to...stop with that.”
“It wasn’t a game to me,” she said. “It’s not a game. I need it or I can’t... I have too many feelings, Austin. Too many... I can’t...I can’t breathe. I need you to help me breathe.”
“No, Katy.”
“I’m begging you,” she said, leaning in, her lips touching his ear. “Please, please give me what I need. I’m at your mercy. No one else can do this for me. No one. And I’m the only one who can do this for you.”
“You have to trust me,” he said. “Whether you’re down on your knees, or here kissing me. I know what you need. Don’t you understand by now?” he asked, drawing his hand over the line of her jaw.
She was trembling, inside and out. Afraid of what he would do next. She wasn’t afraid of Austin’s intensity. She wasn’t afraid to accept his bonds, pain and pleasure at his hand. But this, this care, this...tenderness—that was frightening.
She didn’t know what to do with it. Didn’t know how to process the whisper of his fingertips on her skin, the gentle hold of his palm on her lower back.
It was scarier than bondage, and it was holding her even tighter to him. Something she couldn’t turn away from, couldn’t deny him. Because no matter what he said, he was the one who needed this, and she couldn’t refuse him what he needed.
That was the thing about their relationship. What she needed, he needed the counterpoint. They were all about balance in bed. To some, it would seem like he dominated her, but it had never been true, not really. He needed, she gave. If she didn’t give, it would mean nothing to him.
In this moment, he needed. And his needs offered her none of the safety, none of the intensity, of their other interactions. He wasn’t asking for her body, or for her submission. He was asking for something deeper. He was asking her to make decisions. To reach out and give, not simply accept.
She didn’t know if she could do it, not without breaking apart.
“Don’t make me beg, Austin,” she said, her voice shaking.
“I like it when you beg,” he said, his eyes intent on hers. “You know I do. But right now, I need you to give me this.” He kissed her, his lips light, warm and sweet. “Let me show you I can do this.”
“I don’t need it.”
“I need it. And you’ll give it,” he said, the firm authority in his voice chasing across her skin like a breeze, raising goose bumps on her arms, hitting that place deep within her that responded to Austin. Only to Austin. Wholly and without hesitation.
He pulled her top up, his fingers skimming her stomach, her breasts, as he lifted it over her head. Then he unhooked her bra, let it fall to the floor. He dropped to his knees in front of her and everything in her rebelled, but she held still, held fast. This was what he wanted. He’d given the order; she had to accept. She squeezed her eyes shut, a tear sliding down her cheek.
He leaned in and kissed her stomach, the action reverent. Everything was so slow, so purposeful. And it made her feel desperate. Made her feel like escaping her skin.
But she couldn’t. She couldn’t leave him, didn’t want to leave him, but she wasn’t sure she would survive this, either.
He pushed her pants down her hips, her thighs, her underwear going down with them, leaving her bare to him. She’d been naked in front of him so many times, but this was different. It was deeper. She was bare to her soul.
He leaned in, his lips hot on her clit, his tongue sliding unerringly over her, sending a spike of pleasure through her, something intense to hold to. To drown out the thundering of her heart, the swollen feeling in her chest.
Too many feelings. At least with the physical, she could ignore the emotional.
This was what she needed.
He cupped her ass, held her against his mouth as he lavished her with attention, worshipped her with his lips and tongue, pushing her to the edge, pushing her to the brink of sanity.
He pulled back and looked at her, his dark eyes glittering. She looked away and dropped to her knees. “Austin...let me.” She struggled with the buttons on his shirt, spread the fabric wide and leaned in, licking his skin, tasting him, relishing him.
She worked his belt, freed his cock from his underwear, squeezing him gently. “Tell me what to do. Tell me,” she said, waiting for that hand to tighten in her hair, to force her head down. To demand she suck him.
He didn’t.
“Whatever you want.”
“Tell me.” Because showing was too revealing. It was too much.
He cupped her chin, holding her face steady, forcing her to look at him. “Give me what you want,” he said, the command one she couldn’t deny. Wouldn’t deny.
She lowered her head and drew him deep into her mouth. And she was lost in him. This was what she wanted. Austin. His body. Him. Always.
Her heart sped up. She couldn’t have him, though, not really. Not now. Not ever. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. But it was.
He pulled her head away suddenly, his grip in her hair hard. The flash of pain she desperately craved, a momentary reprieve from the pain in her chest.
“Not like that,” he said, his breath ragged. “I need you. I need to be in you.”
He bent and scooped her into his arms, picking her up and carrying her to the living room.
“I can walk,” she said, except she wasn’t sure if she could. Her muscles were trembling, her legs boneless. She was on the edge of something. An orgasm, an emotional breakdown. She wasn’t sure which. She wasn’t sure it mattered which, or if the two were even different things anymore.
“You don’t have to.” He set her down on the couch and got on his knees in front of her, wrapping her legs around his hips, pausing to pull a condom from his wallet and sheathe himself before pushing inside of her. Slowly. So slowly she felt each inch, felt the full impact of what it was to be filled by him, utterly, completely.
“Oh, yes.” He lowered his head and tugged her up against him, forcing himself deeper.
He kissed her then, desperate and wild, not the slow, sensual movements he’d treated her to before. In this, he’d lost his control. But he’d stolen hers right along with it.
She needed to resist. Needed to retreat. But she couldn’t. So instead she wrapped her arms around his neck and met his eyes, a feeling so big, so impossible, so painful that at first she tried to push it away as it built in her chest.
She wanted to hide from him, but then his eyes met hers, unveiled emotion in them, and she was caught, transfixed. Because she could see the desperation in his eyes. The need. For her. She could see how broken he was, way down deep. How he was trying to heal it with this, with the meeting of their bodies. Because the only way they made sense was together. The only way they seemed to make a whole person whose broken edges seemed to be just fine was when they came together.
She understood why he was trying to fix himself this way, because she felt it, too. But she was afraid that when he fixed himself, it might break her to pieces. But she didn’t want to hide from him, even if it destroyed her.
This was what she felt, and she hadn’t wanted him to be a part of this, because it was too real, too deep to share. But now she saw it in him. Felt it pour out over her. Their pain. Their pleasure. Their need.
And suddenly, she realized she wanted this, whatever had brought him to this point.
She wanted to be there for him. To shoulder it. And it didn’t feel like too much. It didn’t feel like something she couldn’t add to her already immense list of burdens.
This was Austin. And like he’d shouldered her problems, she wanted to take on his. She wanted to catch him when he fell. She wanted to ease the weight that he was carrying with him.
How had she not seen it before? Just how heavy it was inside of him. How had she never realized that he was having just as hard of a time breathing as she was?
So she held him now, because it was what she could do.
He bent and kissed her, fierce and hard, breaking the eye contact. And she kissed him back. Pouring every ounce of that emotion that was building in her chest into him. Because she wasn’t sure if she knew what to call it, wasn’t sure she would know how to say what it was. Because this was beyond her. Like nothing she’d ever felt before. Like nothing she’d ever imagined she might have.
This man, who managed to touch parts of her she’d thought she’d blocked off from the world. And she wanted him there. She wanted him inside of her. She wanted him to know her. The beauty, the ugliness, the boring. All of it. The poverty-stricken girl she’d been. Whoever she was now. Her anger, her grief, her joy, she wanted it to be his. And she wanted his in return.
Because that was the thing. It was too heavy for him to carry alone. And hers was too heavy for her. But if they could just share it, then they could go on.
She was ready now.
She needed Austin. She needed this. These things she’d never known she wanted, escape she’d never known she could find.
“Katy,” he said, his voice rough, his face buried in her neck. “Oh, Katy. I need you. I need you.”
“Me, too,” she said, kissing his temple. “Me, too, Austin.”
“Come for me, baby. I can’t last. Come with me.”
He put his hand between them, slid his thumb over her clit in time with his thrusts and sent her straight over the edge at the same time he lost it. She could feel him pulsing inside of her, felt his pleasure deep within her, joining with hers, pushing her higher, further than she’d ever thought possible.