“Oh, I bet this is what you want.” He rammed into her, up to the hilt, then eased off as he worked his finger up into her ass again.
“Master, no!”
So fucking full. She wasn’t even embarrassed anymore. If he didn’t help her come soon she was going to scream.
Banner held his position for a moment, letting her body adjust, then started a rhythm, thrusting his cock into her, then withdrawing, only to fuck her ass with his thick finger. Caught, she couldn’t do anything but accept his use. He stopped for a moment, and the speed of the vibe intensified.
Her orgasm clutched at her—she tried to hold off, panting, her own noise loud in her ears.
Suddenly, his hand was buried in her hair, and he crushed her to the bed, fucking her hard and fast. The orgasm spiraled out of control. He took her, making her come so hard she couldn’t see or hear, only feel what he allowed her to feel. She was screaming, but the growl coming from him was almost deafening.
“Mine . . . Fucking mine! Do you understand me?” His body froze above her, and she felt him empty into her, triggering her into another orgasm.
She couldn’t escape him. He made her feel every clench and flutter and aftershock.
She whimpered beneath him.
Used. Broken.
His.
***
The first thing she noticed before she even opened her eyes was a sticky feeling between her legs. Reluctantly, she lifted her lids.
Banner’s ceiling.
Groggy and half-asleep, it took a moment to remember what she was doing in his bed. Her body felt sore and used.
Used.
That was exactly what had happened.
With a groan, she forced her achy body to move. She rolled Banner’s heavy arm off of her hip, where it felt as if he were holding her captive. The clock next to the bed read “too fucking early in the morning.”
Panic struck fast and hard. Didn’t she have to work today? It subsided slightly when she realized she had an afternoon shift. She could spend the morning recovering. Moving her legs reminded her of the mess they’d made the night before.
Ugh. Shower first.
Banner was still asleep beside her. His snore sounded like an earthquake and shook the bed. Looking at his body, the sheet only barely covering his hips, was like studying a piece of art. Chiseled muscle, smooth skin, even his body hair seemed perfectly in place.
It was too bad they didn’t match up better. Bringing him to a high school reunion would be a hell of a lot of fun.
She gave her head a shake. Wake up and smell the after-sex, Kate.
Banner didn’t want her. He’d tried to pawn her off last night, and then he’d fucked her senseless as soon as his friends had stepped out of the door. He wanted to use her, but not keep her. She was sex material, not girlfriend material. When was she going to get it through her head and finally let him go? She was hurting only herself now. And here she thought she wasn’t a masochist.
Tears pricked her eyes. How had she gotten in this downward cycle of self-abuse? Disgusted with herself, she suddenly couldn’t stand being in bed with him. She was such a sucker. Weak and desperate. And to let all those guys see her almost naked—to sit on their laps and probably add her to their spank bank— Fuck! Stupid, slutty girl.
“Mortified” was too weak of a word to describe it. Tears streaming from her eyes, she stood up and looked for her clothes. She slipped them on as she found them strewn about the room. Banner slept through it. At least she didn’t have an audience for her walk of shame.
Silently, she made her way up the stairs in search of her purse. By the time she got to her car she was in a full-on ugly cry. She swiped at her eyes, clearing the blur so she could drive. Then she peeled out of the driveway. She checked her rearview mirror, half expecting to see Banner waving her down at the end of the drive, but it was empty. Maybe he’d heard her leave and hadn’t cared. She didn’t know if she was relieved or not.
Somehow, she managed to stop crying, shower, and scarf down something to eat before work. Her body felt slow and limp, every movement as if she were fighting through quicksand. She must just be tired. Her emotions during the last twenty-four hours were out of control. Last night, she’d felt high, as if she could do anything, be anything. She’d felt sexy and desired and invincible. Now, her eyes were faucets, leaking tears when she least expected it. How was she going to get through work like this?
Was this all because of Banner? Was it the dinner with his friends? She wasn’t PMSing, so why did she feel so broken?
On her way to work, she managed to pull herself together. Her job depended on her being professional, not a sobbing mess. She was strong, objective, never showing inappropriate emotion. That was her role. When other counselors had bad days and cried in the bathroom, took personal leave, or went home sick, Kate was always there to cover for them. She’d called out sick once in the last year, and it had been because she’d nearly been hospitalized from food poisoning.
She thought she had herself together, but when a text came through while she was pulling into the parking lot, her facade fell away. It was Banner.
Why did you leave without saying anything, pretty girl? Are you okay?
Pain speared her, but she choked back the tears. She didn’t have time to respond or have another pity party. She was already late. As she entered the lobby, Bethany was there, greeting her with a smile. It faded as Kate approached her.
“What’s wrong? Did someone die?” Bethany asked.
“What?” Kate tried for a smile, but it felt shaky. “Of course not. I’m fine.”
Her friend gave her a skeptical look.
“What?” She ran her hands down her skirt and straightened her blouse. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Was it that obvious? She felt like she was cracking, one sliver at a time.
Bethany winced. “You look like you haven’t slept in a week.”
“Shit,” she hissed. After a quick glance around them, she motioned to the bathroom. Bethany followed her in.
“What happened?”
Kate checked the mirror. She’d put on globs of foundation earlier but it hadn’t covered the puffiness around her eyes. “Just some . . . relationship complications. I don’t know. I must be PMSing early.”
Bethany turned her by the shoulders and straightened a few pieces of stray hair. “Well, pull yourself together. It looks like someone broke your heart last night.”
Someone had.
“Either that or take a sick day. You hardly ever do.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I’ll be fine. I just . . .” She breathed in deeply through her nose, then slowly released the breath. “I just need to relax. I’m fine now.” Her smile was just about passable. “See? I’m fine.”
Inside, she felt as shaky as a toddler’s block tower. One small gust of wind and she’d collapse. But today was a paperwork day. She could handle that. As long as there wasn’t a big crisis, she would be fine.
They stepped out of the bathroom, and she felt hopeful for the first time that day. Commotion to the right caught her attention. She looked to see what was going on. There in the lobby was a big, fat gust of wind, and down her tower went.
Sean was there, verbally assaulting the staff, looking as though he was coming down from a high.
She froze. Her eyes watered, but she held back the tears. She knew it was illogical, but it felt like a betrayal. Of all the things that could go wrong that day, why did this have to be one of them?
Bethany gave her a little push. “Come on. You need to go home.”
Kate let her friend tow her to her car.
“Cry your heart out. Binge eat some ice cream. Take some antidepressants . . . Whatever you need to do. Come back when you feel better.” She held out Kate’s purse, then opened the car door.
Nodding, Kate sat in the driver’s seat and looked up at Bethany. “Thank you.” Her voice trembled, and she felt like melting into a puddle of humiliation.
Bethany gave her a tight smile. “I’ve been there. No worries. Are you okay to drive?”
“Yeah. I’ll talk to you later.”
The drive home was filled with numbing silence. She wasn’t sure where to go from there. She’d never felt so empty and alone. Despite having family who loved her, and even friends who would understand this, she still felt so desperately lonely.
Maybe it was because she didn’t understand what was going on. If a client had been verbalizing the things she was feeling—hopeless, confused, illogically sad—she’d have thought depression straight away. But she wasn’t depressed, was she? Would it hit so fast and so hard?
Back in the comfort of her apartment, she changed into a T-shirt and burrowed under her covers. Maybe she’d sleep off whatever this was and be back to normal later.
Pixie jumped up onto the bed and snuggled in next to Kate. How did dogs always know just how to help? Her eyes burned, even though she didn’t think she had any tears left. Still, her pillow was wet and uncomfortable within a few minutes.
She was getting damn tired of not getting what she wanted when it came to relationships. Was it so hard to find someone who could love her the way she was, instead of wanting her to be something else? A thought struck her and slid deep into her heart, making tears come faster. Maybe what she feared for the last year was true. Maybe she really was unlovable.
A knock sounded at the door, startling Pixie awake. She wasn’t expecting anyone, but it was probably Janine, checking up on her. Janine knew some of what was supposed to have happened last night, and since Kate hadn’t been answering her phone, she’d probably gotten worried.
Kate managed to lift her head from her pillow enough to shout, “Come in.” Had she locked it? She couldn’t remember now. Janine had a key anyway, and if it wasn’t her, maybe the person would go away.
The door creaked open, then banged shut. Heavy footsteps approached. It didn’t sound like Janine.
She turned toward the hallway, then sighed. It was just her luck that the last person she wanted to see would show up, completely unannounced.
Banner stood in the entrance of her bedroom, frowning down at her, holding a coffee cup in his hand.
Chapter 12
“Get out!” There was the impression of smeared makeup and wild hair before Kate yanked a blanket over her head.
Pixie supplied him with a welcoming doggie grin and rolled onto her back, practically begging for a belly rub. Too bad her mistress was less receptive.
He glanced around the room, which was done in muted colors, but still had enough sparks of personality to suggest she’d decorated for herself rather than for show. A huge print of John Everett Millais’s The Knight Errant kinked it up and was the only piece of art in the room. What was Kate’s attraction to the piece? Being rescued by the knight or being tied up and at his mercy? With the knight in armor and the woman nude, it definitely made Banner think of terrible, delicious things.
However, it wasn’t time to imagine Kate tied up and at his mercy.
The silence became awkward as he tried to decide what to do. “Why’d you leave like that?” He shuffled his feet. Should he push her for answers or back off? Dominants were expected to be these perfect, in-tune beings, but sometimes he was just as confused, hurt, and clueless as any regular human. “You were gone when I woke up, and you didn’t answer my texts. I even left two voice mails.” Desperate and dorky, of course. Not the smooth words he’d rehearsed on the way over.
He pushed aside the hollow feeling he had in the pit of his stomach. Had he screwed up her aftercare? She’d seemed more than happy when they’d fallen asleep. Why did he get it all wrong when he was with her?
“I needed to get home to clean myself up for work.” Her voice was muffled.
Self-respecting men didn’t converse with blankets.
“So, if you were in such a rush to get to work, why aren’t you there?”
“I’m not feeling well. You need to leave, please.”
Maybe a vanilla guy would respect her request, but he’d done this to her, and he had an obligation to fix it. More than that, he felt desperate and out of control, and he didn’t want to leave without trying to make this right.
Honestly, he’d barged in for himself as much as for Kate.
He’d always considered himself a good man. Now he wasn’t so sure. More than anything, he wanted to train Kate’s body to recognize him as its Master and lead her mind along the path to deeply submit to him. Forcing her to meet his emotional and sexual needs was completely unethical, but the idea of giving her up made him want to break things. How could she make him so crazy without even trying?
He tugged the blanket down and Kate threw an arm over her eyes. The way her face was streaked gnawed at him. This was all his fault. Why couldn’t he just leave her alone?
Aftercare, then he’d walk away, like a gentleman.
Kate drew her arm from her eyes and blinked up at him. “What do you want from me?”
A vision of her kneeling at his feet, gazing up at him with the soft look she got when she was hitting subspace came to mind. That was what he wanted. For her to give in and let things between them sort themselves out. Would twenty-four-seven with him be that bad? He’d been picky in his choices of who to get serious with over the years. It’d figure that he’d finally found the woman he wanted to keep, and she wanted him to fuck off.
“You have to let me take care of you until the feelings you’re having pass. It’s part of my job as a Dominant to help you through this. I think you’re in the middle of sub drop, and that means I can’t just leave. You’re feeling this way because of what we did together, and this is the aftermath crash. It happens to a lot of people. Doms get drop, too, sometimes.” He shrugged and sat on the edge of her bed. It dipped under his weight, which made her roll closer. Before she could scramble back, he put the hot chocolate on her night stand and stretched out beside her. He yanked her into his arms before she could protest too much.
“I don’t need this from you. I just need some time alone,” Kate grumbled, and he ached to kiss her adorable nose. Being in love with her was making him into an idiot.
Shit. This was love, wasn’t it? The feeling made him want to puke.
“I need this. I’m not leaving unless you use your safeword. If you safeword during my cuddling I will judge you.” He frowned menacingly, and she snorted but settled into his arms.
“You’re lucky that dubious-consent cuddling is only on my soft-limit list.”
“Tolerate the love.” It was a phrase he and his buddies used all the time when they were being dicks to one another, but as soon as he’d said it he wished he could take it back. She wouldn’t hear the L word from him again. Not even as a joke.
She didn’t laugh or respond. Did she know how he felt? Had it been obvious to her even before he’d realized it himself?
“So feeling like this is normal?” Kate sniffled and burrowed into his chest.
“Yes, it’s normal. It’ll pass, Trouble.” He buried his face in her hair. The scent of her warmth and shampoo made his chest hurt. Feelings he didn’t want kept crowding in. Watching the other men covet her last night had been torture, even though he’d arranged it.
If I was your Master I would worship you. As my slave you would be my queen.
The tumult of feelings that cascaded through him was raw and rough and far from sane. Crazy, creepy thoughts crept in, urging him to steal her away somewhere remote, where he’d keep her until she understood.
Understood what? That he was more evil than he let on?
God, he was losing it.
He stroked the silent tears from her cheeks and held her until he thought he’d die. This was the kind of obsession that landed men in jail.
Ambrose would fix this.
Ambrose had to take her away from him, before it was too late.
***
Banner paced the immaculate and extensive patio again. Ambrose must have given up on trying to stop h
im. He was glad they were in the shade of the house, considering his head felt as if he’d drank five pots of coffee. Someone was taking a file to his nerves, and his jaw hurt from clenching it.
“Fuck, man. You need to blow off some steam before you snap.” Ambrose set a beer down on a table near him and backed away, as though he was a bomb in danger of going off.
Banner had been waiting for Ambrose in his driveway when he’d come home from his trip, but he hadn’t known what else to do. Now he got the feeling he was making Ambrose worry more the longer he was there.
“There’s no other way. You have to take her, Ambrose. No one else is good enough, except Konstantin, and by the time he comes back it’ll be too late.” He ran a hand through his hair, not caring if it was sticking up at odd angles.
He let his gaze wander to the newest addition to the grounds, the manmade waterfall that poured into a lagoonlike pool. It was completely ostentatious and made Ambrose’s backyard look as though he were expecting a school of mermaids to come hang out. He was case in point that money couldn’t buy taste. The setup was pretty enough, but if Ambrose ever settled down with a woman, she’d probably have a hell of a time trying to make the place look classy.
That woman might be Kate, soon enough.
“Quit ranting. I said okay. I’ll meet her and try to date her, then the two of us can just pretend you don’t want to kill me every time I hold her hand. But think . . . What if I fall in love with her and we get married and have kids? Are you going to stand in the wedding and smile at the baptism and promise to be the godfather while you not so secretly want to kill me? This will seriously fuck up our friendship.”
Visions of Kate in white, marrying one of his two best friends had to be pushed aside before he lost his shit. “If the two of you fall in love, maybe this mess in my head will mellow out. Maybe I’ll get over her if I see your collar on her neck.”
“But I don’t get it! Why is my collar on her neck okay and yours isn’t? ‘Slave’ is just a word. Why don’t you call it something else and keep her?”
He’d been awake all night trying to make himself okay with that very idea. “Sneaking in the side door isn’t how I’m made. You’re willing to bend on what you want from a submissive, but I’m not. I can’t trick her into being my slave by using pretty words to disguise it, or our whole relationship will be based on lies. She doesn’t want my cage.” He rubbed at his forehead. “The feelings I have for her won’t fix differences this big. Eventually, it would end our relationship. Better to cut our losses now, before the real suffering starts.”
Finding Master Right Page 18