“I’m glad. But why do you think you want me, then? Be honest.” His voice was so calm and she felt like she was falling apart. All the memories of Marcus were too close. A blush flooded up her chest as she realized she was so wet she could feel it under her on the bench. James knew, he knew she was this wet and he wanted her to explain why? She didn’t KNOW why. James should ask Marcus why he’d picked her. What secret thing inside her made her like this, made her crave this? Every time James ordered her to do something, every time she obeyed him, every time he brought her into this room – she filled up with so much anticipation and excitement, her pussy gushed at the unknown of what he had planned. He did so many things similar to Marcus, so many things that took on a completely different life when James did them.
But there was no terror, and that was the difference.
“I’m not afraid with you!” She shouted it through her tears. Yanking hard on the cuffs around her wrists until she felt them ache. She turned her face away from the side he stood on. “I want you because you ARE like this, but I’m not afraid with you. I was always afraid with -” she hiccupped again as more tears spilled out, unable to say Marcus’ name aloud. “And I don’t know why I like this, I don’t KNOW why!” She tugged hard at the cuffs on her wrists and ankles again and suddenly her wrists were loose, then her collar. She sat up and covered her face instantly, wiping tears off her cheeks.
“Pet...” He sighed and tilted her chin up, and she dropped her hands but still tried to turn her face out of his touch. His other hand quickly fisted in her hair to hold her head still. “Thalia. Look at me.” His voice was instantly more demanding.
“Please.” Her face was so hot from the blush and the crying, and she kept her eyes closed as tears ran down her cheeks. She still didn’t understand exactly what was wrong with her that she liked this. James made it so easy, and she just wanted to be with him, to let go and be his for as long as he wanted her. She didn’t want to think about why.
“No. Look at me, now.” His voice was edging towards angry and she sniffled and opened her eyes, wiping under them before her hands rested in her lap. His sea glass green eyes were so much darker than normal. “You’re going to listen to me, do you understand?”
“Yes, Master.” She murmured as her breath hitched and she tried to calm down. His eyes bored into her and his fist tightened in her hair until she felt the pulse between her thighs – a well-timed reminder of her altered preferences. All of this was Marcus’ thumbprint on her. A sob threatened to choke her again, and James shook her a little.
“There is nothing wrong with you, Thalia. Many, many women are natural submissives who find happiness in a Dominant or a Master.” She tried to turn away and he craned her neck back until she had to look up at him standing next to her. “There is nothing wrong with liking this. I like it too, pet, and I feel very lucky to have found you.” His fingers brushed over the welts on the tops of her thighs and she shivered.
“I -” she choked on the words she wanted to say. She felt tainted by what had happened to her, by who or what she was. “I feel like anywhere I go they will know. The way Ma-… the way Marcus knew before anything had even happened. I’m worried I’ll go somewhere and they will know what I am, and what I’ve done, and -” another hiccup, “- and hate me for it.”
“You don’t have a scarlet letter, pet.” He released her hair and his hands cupped her face until her eyes found their way back to his. “It seems obvious to you because you know yourself. Marcus trained himself to find women like you, but he is not the norm. No one is going to know, Thalia. You can be yourself. No matter who that is.” His thumbs wiped her tears away, and she took her first steadying breath in minutes. Her tears slowed as she watched his eyes move down her body.
“And if you decide that part of you is submissive,” a wicked smile tugged at his mouth, “then all the better for me and my interests.” His hand slid between her thighs and her nails dug into her palms as his fingers rubbed over her clit. She arched backwards and he let her lie down, but her ankles were still bound underneath the bench keeping her thighs far apart.
“Yes, Master.” Her voice was pleading for more, her hips bucking against his hand as he slid two fingers inside her. She moaned and squirmed on the bench. When his thumb rolled her clit she almost sat up, but his other hand pressed her back down.
“You enjoy this, don’t you pet?” His voice was low and his accent made her shudder. Each thrust of his fingers inside her brought her closer to the edge, and she nodded.
“Yes, yes, Master!” Her voice escalated as she arched her back off the bench.
“Do you want to come, pet?” She could hear the smile in his voice and she answered before he was done speaking.
“Yes, please, Master!” She begged and his fingers were back under the collar on her neck as his hand moved from between her legs. He unlatched the cuffs from her ankles and then pulled her up. There was a table against one wall and he moved her there by the collar and she flushed in anticipation as he slammed her forward onto it. She moaned as he stepped behind her, his fingers sliding inside her again and making her body quiver. One hand pressed her to the table when he removed his fingers and thrust his hard cock into her in one hard movement. He stretched her for a moment and she winced before her body adjusted. He pulled back and thrust again.
She gasped and heard him groan behind her as he filled her, the welts from the night before woke up and made her moan louder when his pace picked up. Everything was focused between her thighs as heat coiled at the base of her spine, and each stroke of his cock inside her increased it.
“Come for me, pet.” His hand slid into her hair, and yanked her head back. The sharp sting at her scalp always did it for her, and he thrust in hard as she came. Her pussy contracting around him as he joined her a few thrusts later, his fingers digging into her hip to hold her against him as he filled her with jets of his seed. She was limp against the table as her orgasm faded and her muscles shook slightly under him.
Mentally, emotionally and physically exhausted.
“Thank you, Master.” She murmured against the table, and she heard him moan quietly as he withdrew from her. In a moment he had her gathered in his arms, her head leaning against his chest.
“I think we’ve had enough excitement this morning, pet, I’m taking us back to bed.” He leaned down and kissed her as she felt them moving through the room. He only broke the kiss to open the door and then he was back, nipping her lip and then trailing the kisses across her jaw line to her ear. “You still have the cuffs on.” He mumbled in her ear as he finally laid her down on their bed.
“Yes, Master.” She stretched as he laid her down and she smiled at him. He grinned back, his eyes devouring her before he got on the bed next to her, leaning over her to kiss her again.
“I like the way they look on you, almost as much as I like the way these welts show.” His fingers brushed the welts on her thighs, and she could feel the texture underneath his fingertips.
“Thank you, Master.” She murmured and arched her back, lifting her hips into his touch. His mouth moved into her hair, down her neck where he bit her shoulder and she gasped.
“You know you make me very happy, pet.” His voice was quiet against her skin, but the smile that spread across her face was impossible to hide. He laughed softly. “Don’t say anything, pet. Just nod if you’re happy.” She exaggerated the nod, and heard James laugh against her shoulder again. He lay down next to her and tugged her against him so his arm could coil around her waist and hold her there. She heard a beep and then a soft grinding sound and the room went dark as the blackout blinds slid over the windows. He tilted her head back and kissed her again, her mouth opening as he delved deeper. Then he groaned and broke the kiss, pressing his forehead to the back of her head. “Rest, pet. We can go out later. I think it’s time we really start reintroducing you to the world, and try to get you back to how you were before.”
“Okay.” She smiled, nuzzling clos
er to him in her languor.
His voice made butterflies dance in her stomach when he spoke again, “I think it’s a given though that your submissive side is here to stay.”
She nodded, her lips stretching into a grin, “Yes, Master.” Thalia always felt safe when they were out together, she could work on being more normal in public. And she could wait three more months to tell him she wanted to stay. Just three months and she could be with James without this question looming between them. For Thalia there wasn’t a question about who she wanted to be with, and Marcus would just have to let her go. Then she would just have to wait for James to accept her answer.
Three months was nothing.
Chapter Four
Marcus woke up again and flipped to his stomach, which made him painfully aware of the throbbing erection he now pinned between his stomach and the mattress. He buried his face back into the pillow and tried to recapture the dream. Thalia, on her knees, her face pressed into the bed, his hands on her hips as he thrust inside her tight heat. He groaned as his cock throbbed in need.
Over three months and he was still fucking dreaming about her. Fantasizing about her.
He looked down at the pillow and realized it was one of the ones he’d stolen from the room she’d slept in. Her scent had long ago left it, but he refused to wash the pillowcase anyway. His eyes adjusted to the dark room as he flipped back over, stretching out and trying his best to ignore the tent of the sheet over his erection. There was no way he was getting back to sleep.
His hand slid under the sheet until he grabbed hold of his cock, squeezing and running his fist to the tip where precum was already dripping after the intense dream. He worked the wetness down, and up, pumping his cock as he remembered her mouth on him. Her wide hazel eyes looking up to seek his approval, his fist twining in her hair to hold her still as he thrust into her throat.
“Fuck.” He muttered under his breath as he felt his hips kick up into his grip. It was Thalia he pictured kneeling between his thighs, her warm mouth sucking him in, her delicate hands cupping his balls, tracing her nails across the skin to send shivers of pleasure up his back to combine with her quick tongue. He groaned and worked his fist faster, his other hand throwing the sheet off him. The cool air made him hiss a breath between his teeth as he worked towards an orgasm.
It was Thalia tied to the whipping post, his belt marks down her back, her hips bucking against the wood as she cried out for him.
It was Thalia calling out in her sleep, saying ‘Master’ in that breathy, needy voice.
It was Thalia crawling behind him, sitting on her heels and spreading her thighs. Thighs that he could push apart to thrust inside her.
It was Thalia. Thalia. Thalia. Thalia.
He came with a barked cry, spurting against his fingers and his stomach, and leaving a huge fucking mess.
It should have been her mouth.
“God dammit.” He groaned and tried his best to wipe up with his hand before he moved to the bathroom and wiped off with a towel from the floor. He took a piss and then walked back into the main bathroom, catching himself in the mirror. ‘Scruffy’ didn’t even begin to cover it. A couple of weeks’ beard growth had him looking more than dark and brooding. His hair had grown out enough in the last couple of months that it was actually affected by bed head. His eyes were bloodshot from his evening routine of drinking until he passed out.
He was a mess.
At least he didn’t have to smell like one. He reached into the shower and turned on the hot water, stepping back into his bedroom to wait for it to warm up. The place looked like he’d been robbed. There were dirty clothes across the floor, stacks of papers overflowed his desk to the floor. He had taped photos across one wall, and while he had started originally grouping them, that had stopped.
Grouping didn’t matter. They were all of Thalia.
The private investigator he was paying in London thought that Thalia was his cousin. He’d told him she had run off with a new boyfriend and everyone was concerned. The fucking PI kept reporting back that while she seemed anxious, and a little off being in a new country, she seemed to really like her boyfriend – Dr. James Hawkins.
The motherfucker who had taken Thalia from him.
Each of the pictures that had James in them Marcus cut them so that he was left with just the half of the photo with Thalia. The set of photos he’d received a couple of weeks before where they had been embracing, James’ arms tight around her waist while waiting for a taxi? Those he had burned.
He tore his eyes from the wall and stepped back into the bathroom to shower. His rage was back full force. Marcus took thick breaths in the steam of the shower, leaning his hands against the wall before he let loose and roared out his frustration. His temples were pounding as his blood pressure skyrocketed. Marcus couldn’t handle imagining him with her. It always brought back the day of the auction, his stolen touches when she’d knelt at his fucking feet. James’ bravado in asking to touch her more, to taste her.
Who the fuck did he think he was?
And then Anthony, fucking Anthony telling him it was okay? Telling Marcus he had to let the customers spend time with her? Thalia belonged to HIM. Anthony should have never accepted the bid without his permission, there should have never been a fucking auction without his permission.
He slammed his fist into the tile, but the sharp ache was quickly in the background of his thoughts. All he could see was Thalia bent gloriously over that asshole’s legs, James’ hand between her thighs, her sweet moans and cries when he’d spanked her. The way her skin had flushed when she came.
And then she’d chosen him. He had commanded her to stay, and she had chosen James. The bastard who was born into money, who hadn’t had to earn his way into that elite circle of privilege. Thalia had chosen the Oxford businessman over him. Marcus growled. That wasn’t how it was supposed to go, and Thalia had to have realized that by now. Realized that she wanted a real man, one that knew how to control her the way she needed to be controlled. He’d been the one to show her she liked it. It had been his feet she’d knelt at first!
Marcus turned the water off and stepped out. He pushed his hands through his hair to get it to look decent when it dried, and left the beard. No one was coming by anyway.
Anthony had tried to stay with him after the auction at first. He’d gone through the files on the list of potentials and tried to distract him from Thalia with another girl – but he didn’t want another girl. He told Anthony that and his brother had fucking mocked him. It wasn’t that he was in love with her, which was what Anthony kept saying. That wasn’t it at all. Thalia belonged with him, Thalia was his property and she was meant to be with him. He could have made her happy. And Anthony had been the one to ruin everything. The last day Anthony was at the house Marcus had cracked him over the head with a bottle of vodka when he’d tried to actually order him to go get another girl.
As if he was some submissive bitch for Anthony.
The fucker had now resorted to just occasionally leaving an angry voicemail, or forwarding customer request emails all of which seemed to just ask when they’d be online again. He ignored them all.
The only other guest he’d had was Thomas, who had brought Kaia a few times. Kaia had been a convenient distraction in the first few weeks, she’d always had a thing for him. She still had actually, but then she’d started crying when he’d called out Thalia’s name, and Thomas had refused to bring her back. He was so whipped.
Screw them.
He didn’t need any of them or their shit.
He dropped into the chair at his desk. The monitors had been converted back to normal screens because like hell he was running the cameras when it was just him walking around the house. More pictures of Thalia. More notes on where James had taken her, where she’d been, what she did – which wasn’t much, and she was always with James.
He opened his email and was shocked to find a response from James. Probably more bullshit. The asshole flat ou
t refused to let him speak to Thalia. He was obviously terrified that Thalia would want to come back to him, and then James’ code of honor would require him to let her go.
Idiot.
Marcus clicked the email so it filled the screen, and started to read.
From: James Hawkins
To: Marcus Williams
Subject: No Hypocrite
Marcus,
I am not a hypocrite, and I was more than happy to let Thalia read your email. She has, and always will have, the choice to be with me or not. Something you never offered her. But you know my stance, the rest of this email will be from Thalia herself.
- Dr. James Hawkins
...
I don’t even know how to start this. Even as I’m typing I don’t know what I want to say to you, I don’t even know if I want to write to you. Maybe I’ll write all of this out and delete it. I’m only responding because I feel like you have to hear this from me, because you’ll never believe it from him. And I want you to leave us alone so I can forget you.
Striking a Balance (Thalia Book 2) (The Thalia Series) Page 7