Dread washed over her. She would have preferred to see the thunderous rage to that blankness.
“Get dressed.” He waited, his hands stuffed in his pockets as Samantha drew her panties and jeans back up over her hips with trembling fingers, then slid into her sneakers.
“Let’s go.” Silently Elijah led her back across the roof and into the elevator. Instead of the casual intimacy that came with holding hands, this time he kept his hands tucked in his pockets, away from her, and Samantha felt as though a wall of ice had grown between them.
Panic had lodged inside her, and she wasn’t sure how to make it go away. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She knew how, but the words just wouldn’t come.
The ride down the elevator was excruciatingly silent, as was the drive back to In Vino Veritas and Elijah’s apartment. He helped her exit the low-slung vehicle, his face still stern.
“Samantha.” Elijah spoke only her name.
Hot tears blurring her vision, she turned back toward him reluctantly, though all she wanted to do was run and hide. She looked up at him with wide eyes, swallowing past the large lump in her throat.
“Samantha, I need you to understand something.” For the first time since she’d met him, Elijah looked as though he wasn’t in complete control of himself. The fact that she had done that to him was not a comfortable sensation.
“There is nothing that you can tell me that will shock me, or turn me off, or make me not want to be with you,” Elijah began, his face serious.
Samantha wanted nothing more than to run into his arms, to bury her face in his chest, but that invisible barrier kept her from doing it. She knew they would keep running into this again and again, until she was able to confess her secrets to him.
“You say you want to submit to me. I can help you with that, can push you past so many of your boundaries. But this . . . You need to find it in yourself to trust me—with anything. And if you can’t do that, then I’m not the Dom for you.”
Samantha sucked in a breath of searing Las Vegas air as the words Elijah hadn’t spoken rang through the air.
You need to open yourself to me fully, or we’re through.
Stunned, panicked, she followed Elijah into the elevator that led up to his apartment. She stared at her toes, clad in the new, bright pink sneakers that she’d found that morning, and felt like she was going to be sick.
By the time the elevator had reached the apartment, she’d reached one conclusion. Elijah was the best thing that had ever happened to her. She wasn’t about to just let him walk away.
As they exited, Elijah turned toward her, his mouth open as if he was about to say something. Though she suspected she was breaking all kinds of submissive rules, she interrupted, needing to say what was in her head.
“Please. Give me a minute.” Not daring to look up into his eyes, Samantha looked down at the floor as she instinctively dropped to her knees, laying her hands in her lap, palms up. She had seen other submissives doing this at the club the other night, and it seemed like the thing to do at that moment.
“My sister called to tell me that someone . . . someone from our past might be back in our mother’s life. That’s all it was.” Samantha swallowed past the unease that the very thought of Stanley brought to coat her throat. “This person . . . I can’t say he ruined our family—that was on my mother’s shoulders. But he sure didn’t help. I’ve spent a long time trying to forget he even existed.
“I wanted to tell you earlier. So badly. But after so many years of shoving it away . . . it’s like it’s frozen inside me.” Steeling herself, she looked up, looked into Elijah’s eyes. He was regarding her thoughtfully, though she couldn’t gauge the expression on his face.
“I don’t know how to say I’m sorry in this world,” she whispered, shifting uncomfortably on her knees. “But I am. I’m sorry I didn’t just tell you this. And I’m sorry that I can’t tell you more. Please understand. Reliving it . . . it just might kill me.”
• • •
Nothing could have stunned Elijah more than when Samantha dropped to her knees in front of him. Though he hadn’t taught her the position, she had sunk to her knees as if she’d been doing it her entire life.
And when she apologized . . . it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard.
Still he couldn’t overlook the fact that she wasn’t confiding in him completely. Why couldn’t he make her understand that there was nothing she could say that would turn him away?
“I’m tempted to push you right now, little one.” He studied her body language as he spoke, noted the sudden and complete tension that racked her frame.
She was terrified of revisiting whatever it was her memory held, and that made it a hard limit, at least for now. It would be detrimental to try to convince her to open up any more right now.
Bending at the waist, he offered her his hand, helping her up from her knees. Catching the side of her face in his fingers, he turned her toward him until she had no choice but to look right at him.
“Thank you for telling me as much as you did.” Wrapping his arms around her, he lifted her up until he balanced her entire weight. She sighed and buried her head into his chest, and the contentment that wrapped over him was strange and new.
In his bedroom, he gently placed Samantha on the bed—noting that she winced when she landed on her bottom—then crossed to the bureau. He extracted a thin, silky slip and a pair of sheer panties from the clothing he’d bought her. He contemplated a pair of sky-high, sexy-as-sin red pumps, then decided she would go barefoot for the night.
“Put on these items, and only these.” Crossing to the bed again, he placed the lingerie in Samantha’s lap. She looked at them, then at him, and he watched as her nipples hardened beneath her cotton T-shirt.
“Are we going to the club?” Her voice was soft and contained the faintest hint of a tremor.
Elijah glowered down at her, watching as she sucked in a breath and looked down at her sneakered feet. The pink tennis shoes were adorable on her, but the way he was feeling, nothing but naked skin and restraints would do.
“Do not ask questions. Do not speak until I give you permission.” He wasn’t normally so formal with his subs, but he was in a mood. “Dress in what I have given you. Meet me at the elevator in precisely ten minutes.”
He noted the tinge of pink that flushed her skin, the shine that came into her eyes as he took control away from her. Now it was time to push her, though it likely wouldn’t be in a way that she expected.
He crossed his bedroom, pausing at the door to look back at Samantha. With her pink cheeks, bright eyes, and messed hair, she looked entirely fuckable, and he wanted nothing more than to tear her clothes away, flip her over, and drive himself into her from behind.
But he had to wait.
He nearly groaned as his cock hardened, taunted by the images of what he was about to do to her.
“I’m taking you to Veritas.”
He was Dom enough to be pleased by the way her eyes widened and her skin paled.
“But . . . you already . . . the belt . . .” She looked so young and innocent as she stammered, and Elijah felt a stab of guilt. He wasn’t going to push her to tell him what she was hiding that night. But it was still his responsibility as a Dom to address the issue.
He’d become more attached to her than he cared to admit. And she was here of her own volition. If this—whatever this was—was to go any further, all of her baggage would have to be dealt with. Not now, but soon.
“The belt was for hiding the phone call from me.” Though his emotions were fully engaged, Elijah felt his cock stiffen further at the memory of Samantha, bent over for his hand, nothing but the bright sky around them. “I’m proud of you for starting to open up to me, so you’ll be rewarded tonight as well. But there’s more that you’re keeping back. I’m not going to push you to tell me, but I’m upset with you. That means that you require another punishment.”
Elijah registered Samantha’s
startled inhalation as he left the room to give her the allotted time to dress. No doubt she thought that another punishment was grossly unfair, but at this point in their relationship he would be remiss in his duties to do anything less.
And there was one thing that would likely give her some comfort if she knew—not that he was about to tell her.
If she was receiving punishment . . . that meant he was about to be punished, too.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Shivers worked their way down Samantha’s spine, over and over again, as Elijah led her from his apartment and around to the entrance of In Vino Veritas.
She knew—somehow she knew—that tonight she was going to be taken further into the BDSM scene than she’d been so far. She was terrified.
She couldn’t wait.
Images flashed through her head, a never-ending stream of color, as she remembered some of the scenes that she’d taken in at Veritas and, back in Cabo, at Pecado.
A woman bound to a cross-shaped structure, naked and open for anyone to touch her.
The hiss of a flogger, slicing through the air before kissing the tender flesh of a submissive.
Hot wax, poured in delicate patterns over bared skin.
She shivered again as they rounded the corner, unsure whether it was from nervousness or excitement, and Elijah took her upper arm gently in his hand.
“Tell me what you’re thinking right now.” He had been strangely quiet ever since she’d apologized to him. She wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.
“I’m wondering what you’re going to do to me in there.” From the corner of her eyes she saw Julien. She opened her lips to greet him, but a stern shake of his head from Elijah reminded her of the rules.
She wasn’t to speak until he gave her permission.
She had never felt more like she belonged to him.
“Are you nervous?” Elijah stopped right in front of the main doors, his hands resting on her shoulders. Samantha could hear the sounds of cars pulling into the driveway, of others arriving for their evening of wine and play, but Elijah was looking down at her as if she was the only person in the world.
Her knee-jerk reaction was to play the defensive, to retort that nothing scared her, not even whips and chains.
Yet she didn’t want to lie.
“Yes, I’m nervous.” She flicked her tongue out to moisten her suddenly dry lips, and saw Elijah’s eyes following the gesture. “I don’t think you’ll hurt me. But I’m scared . . . scared of the unknown.”
Since moving to Mexico, her life had been a comfortable routine. She’d done the same things over and over again, never stepping outside her own little bubble.
Then she’d met Elijah, and her world had turned upside down.
“I like it that you’re nervous.” Elijah smiled at her, and it was the dark, wicked smile that he reserved for playtime. “But I don’t want you scared. Maybe this will help.”
Samantha watched as he pulled a length of what looked like silk from his pocket. Pink silk—it was the scarf he’d used to restrain her before.
Heat washed over her as Elijah carefully placed the folds of soft silk over her eyes, tying it behind her head.
“I’ve got you.” Elijah took her hand and pulled her gently forward. Samantha could tell when they passed through the main door of Veritas, could mark their movements as they worked their way down the hall, bypassing the wine bar.
She knew when Elijah opened the door that led into the play area, could hear the influx of sexy music and the equally enticing noises of people experiencing pleasure.
But the scarf over her eyes allowed her to remain removed, just a hint, from the surroundings as Elijah led her across the playroom floor. Her nerves had settled a bit when Elijah finally led her to a stop.
She shifted, her bare feet sticking to the varnished floor, as he undid her blindfold with sure fingers. Samantha blinked in the light as the silk fell into Elijah’s hands.
Though the room was dimly lit, it seemed bright as the sun after the darkness behind the blindfold.
The expression on Elijah’s face ensured that she would look—could look—at no one but him.
“Samantha, do you understand why we’re here?” His words were serious, sexy. A frisson of excitement skated over her skin.
She nodded, wanting to please him.
“We’re here so you can—can punish me.” Her voice didn’t shake, even with her nerves, and it was a triumph.
“And tell me why you’re being punished.”
Samantha felt she should be scared, as if his words should make her want to run. Instead, she heard nothing from him but quiet patience and acceptance.
In that moment she truly felt that she could tell Elijah about her past—and the words were on the tip of her tongue.
She hesitated a beat too long, and the urge passed. In its place, however, was the desire to please him in some other way, even if it meant accepting further punishment.
“You’re going to punish me because I . . . because I still have secrets.” Her voice sounded far calmer to her own ears than it had in years.
“I’m sorry,” she added, unable to keep it in. “I really am.”
“I know.” Elijah smiled at her, half with that wicked intent, half with . . . was that affection? Caring? “And it’s more accurate to say that tonight is about proving to you that you can trust me with anything.”
His words made Samantha’s heart stutter in her chest. Confused, she looked down at her naked toes. From the corner of her eyes she caught Elijah’s arm waving, gesturing to someone.
She was too nervous to look up to see who.
“Samantha. This is Luca Santangelo. I don’t think you’ve met him yet.” Samantha looked up to find the giant of a man who usually stood guard behind the bar watching her intently.
He was wearing black leather pants, a matching vest open over a well-muscled chest, and nothing else. The same tattoo that ringed Elijah’s biceps, and supposedly Alex’s as well, was on Luca’s arm.
Though she appreciated the beauty of the ink on Luca, the dark artistic swirls, it didn’t give her the urge to run her fingers over it the way she felt when she saw Elijah’s.
“See anything you like, subbie?” Luca smirked down at her from his massive height.
Samantha sucked in a breath, suddenly nervous. “Apologies, Master Luca.”
Her apology to Elijah was only too fresh in her mind, the one she still wasn’t sure he was going to accept. Her heart hurt with the notion that she’d failed him, but she didn’t know what else she could do. She hadn’t been a part of this world long enough to understand all its hidden secrets—she didn’t know if she ever would.
“She apologizes very prettily, E.”
Samantha stared at her bare feet as Luca spoke. She knew she was mouthy, knew she could be difficult, but in that moment all she wanted was to be able to tell Elijah everything, to share the burden, and for Elijah to truly forgive her.
Why wouldn’t the words just come? Was she afraid of his reaction?
Samantha recognized Elijah’s feet as he moved to stand in front of her. He placed a finger under her chin and tilted her face up until she was looking right at him.
“She does indeed, Luca.” Samantha felt a wild swell of hope surge through her, though Elijah’s expression was still inscrutable. “I still have a lot of work to do with her, but it’s a definite start.”
Samantha felt tears begin to prickle at the backs of her eyes. He was giving her a second chance. She’d never been so relieved.
She would deal with working up the courage to share her secret with him as soon as she could. Right in that moment all she wanted to do was focus on him. Whatever he wanted, she would give him.
She wanted to make him happy.
“Are you thinking of giving the good little subbie a reward?” Luca’s rough, gravelly voice was worlds different from Elijah’s, which always reminded her of hot buttered rum.
She didn’t look at Lu
ca as he spoke, because he didn’t matter to her. Her duty was to Elijah, to do what he wanted her to do. When he smiled, and she knew that she had pleased him, she felt as if she was floating on air. Then the words sunk in. “A reward?” she asked, confused. “I thought I was going to get a punishment.”
“Yes, I do believe the little cat deserves a treat.” Elijah’s lips curled into that devastatingly wicked grin that Samantha had come to realize signaled that play was at hand. He spoke as if she wasn’t there. Normally that would have made her mad, but she was too unsettled to feel angry.
Her pulse began to speed up.
“It seems you like that idea, Sammie Cat.” Grinning down at her, Elijah caught her wrists in his hands and pulled her over to a spanking bench.
Samantha had to work hard not to frown. She knew what the bench was for, but she wasn’t sure she cared for the idea of being spanked or lashed while Luca watched. Especially not while the skin of her backside was still so tender.
She turned and caught Elijah watching her very carefully. She stared back for a long moment, then schooled her face into an innocuous smile.
Whatever he wanted to do to her, she would take. She had a point to prove, and she trusted him not to do something to her that she couldn’t handle.
“Good girl.” Elijah spoke quietly as he pressed a hand to the flat of her back. “You’re going to like this, I promise.”
As he spoke he turned her so that she faced away from him. She felt him kneel behind her, stroking his hands down the insides of her thighs until he reached her ankles.
She heard the soft snick of metal, felt its chill against her skin as her ankles were bound to the legs of the bench. With the bondage came the now familiar surge of relief.
She was in Elijah’s care. She could just let go.
“Luca, could you help me, please?” Elijah left Samantha standing, bound to the legs of the bench, as he lifted his toy bag and set it on the top of the structure that stretched out before her. He sorted through it slowly, allowing her plenty of time to study each item.
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