His Perfect Submissive

by Alyssa Aaron

  Guilt stabbed at him. She'd been sick with fear, probably imagining that marriage to him would be little better than a year long continuation of the rape she'd already endured.

  Shame washed over him as he realized how close to the truth that had been. Although he had not intended it to be painful her first intimate encounter with him had ended in disaster.

  He despised himself for what he'd done. Before Kara he'd prided himself on the fact that he'd never, ever, injured a submissive in his care. The knowledge that he'd carved emotional wounds into Kara cut him to the core.

  Shit. Hell. Damnation. He swore silently at himself, as he wondered how he was ever going to make amends for the emotional wounds he'd added to those she already carried.

  He nuzzled against her, enjoying the sweet musky fragrance of her hair. If he could do it again he'd be so damned slow, so damned careful with her. If he could start over he'd make sure he didn't hurt her, didn't scare her, and didn't give her any reasons to fear him.

  His mind drifted to the night before and the way she'd wrenched herself out of his grasp as she'd scrambled from their bed.

  Sickness pooled in his gut as he remembered the sound of her retching. The image of her hunched on the bathroom floor with tears streaming down her face tortured him. It had been his fault that things had gotten so damned out of hand. He was to blame.

  Guilt, bleak, dark, inescapable swelled inside him.

  His behavior had been inexcusable. He'd behaved like a first rate jackass, forcing her to marry him, ignoring her fears and rolling past them as if they'd been the overreactions of a nervous virgin.

  Even after she'd told him about the rape he'd pushed her. He'd been so desperate to heal the visible wounds he'd insisted she buy clothes that showed her figure, even after she'd told him that form-fitting clothes made her feel vulnerable.

  Jesus. Even then, when I knew she'd been raped, I pushed her and cajoled her and forced her into submission. The guilt that washed over him cancelled out any hope that she would willingly choose to stay married to him once he gave her another choice. He couldn't blame her. He had heaped hurt upon hurt on her in the short period of time he had known her.

  Even then, when she'd been lost in misery that he had caused she hadn't lashed out at him, she hadn't blamed him. In fact, she'd found reasons to absolve him of any guilt, taking the blame for not telling him about the rape instead of blaming him for forcing her into a marriage she hadn't wanted in the first place. That she hadn't been angry and emotional or cold and aloof with him amazed him.

  He thought back on the day he'd proposed. She'd looked small and fragile in the voluptuous scrubs, her paleness when he gave her the details of the marriage he wanted had only added to her air of fragility. He'd known she was afraid, and yet aside from stating she couldn't quit her job because her mother depended on her for help with medications and requesting that the details of their marriage be kept private she had agreed to the marriage without much fuss.

  Now that he knew what the marriage and her loyalty to her brother had cost her he admired her even more. It wasn't only her willingness to make the best of the screwed up situation he had placed her in, but her ability to do it without animosity that he admired. He doubted if the situation were reversed he would be so generous.

  As much as he wanted her, as much as he admired her; maybe because he admired her so much, he could not allow himself to continue to force her to remain married to him now that he understood what their marriage was costing her emotionally. He would not force her to submit to his touch knowing as he now did that every touch, every intimacy had to remind her of the rape.

  Forcing her to remain with him would be akin to torturing her and he would not allow himself to do that no matter how much losing her would hurt.

  His decision made, he stood holding her, remembering the sweet way she'd promised her submission less than an hour before. The pleasure that had shot through him as she'd offered herself to him, not really knowing even what that entailed had swelled and grown as they'd talked through her fear of being spanked.

  He now knew the deepening affection he'd felt was love. Yet gaping emptiness took over where love had been as he faced the knowledge that he had to release her from the promises she'd made. He didn't want to release her, didn't want to let her out of his life but he knew once he allowed her the option of returning to her old life she would be gone.

  He couldn't blame her for leaving him. He'd done nothing except heap pain upon pain from the beginning.

  He held her, wondering how he was going to make up for the pain he'd given her. He would forgive her brother's debt, but it hardly made up for the emotional pain he'd inflicted or the wounds he'd forced her to reopen.

  He wished there was a way to keep her that wouldn't cause her more harm. His heart shuddered in his chest as he thought about the shy way she smiled up at him and the nervous way she repeated the first words in sentences when she was nervous. His heart was already filled with her absence as he dreaded the letting go.

  Chapter 16

  "Kara?"

  "Slade?” she answered softly.

  "I've made a huge mistake and I've hurt you because of it.” His words drew her gaze. She looked up at him noting the mingled regret and guilt that clouded his features. “I never meant for our marriage to be like this. I never meant for it to be painful for you at all.” His sigh brushed the hair at her temple and she savored the gentle whisper of his breath.

  "You didn't know—"

  "No, I didn't know.” His voice was soft, and rough, and a muscle jumped along his jaw. “Still, I never should have forced you to marry me. Using your brother's theft to make you marry me, on my own selfish terms—” he sighed. “I knew the day I offered to forgive your brother's debt in exchange for marriage that you were scared of what I was offering. I chose to ignore what you were feeling in the hope that I'd be able to show you it wasn't so bad after we were married."

  He paused. “It would have been bad enough if you'd had some experience and had known the score, but with everything that happened when you were a child—your—innocence—"

  He shook his head as if to clear it. “I realize now how painful it is for you and I know it can't work the way I had hoped it would. It's completely my fault we're in this mess—"

  His sigh hissed in her ears but she couldn't find her voice.

  "Kara, if you want to leave me, leave our marriage, I won't stand in your way.” His expression was hard, his stance stiff, but his voice soft with regret.

  She felt her shoulders slump and her insides go numb. After everything he was he dumping her.

  She balled her fists, her head feeling as if it was going to explode. She should have known better than to tell him so much. She'd told her parents less and they hadn't been able to deal with it. In hindsight she didn't know what had made her think that Slade would be able to deal with what had happened to her any better than her parents had.

  She backed away, avoiding his gaze, closing out his voice. She retreated into herself, feeling as if she was crumbling from the inside out. The warmth and safety she'd felt with him disintegrated into deep emptiness that left her desperately fragile and frantic to protect herself from the anguish and loneliness that closed in on her.

  If he'd yelled at her with anger, hatred, venom, blame or a hundred other things she could have dealt with it better than she could deal with the quiet finality in his voice.

  Her heart hammered and her chest burned with the need to breathe but she couldn't seem to get a breath past the tightness in her chest.

  The pain bubbled up inside her and she closed her mind to any more of the painful words. She knew he wanted to be free of her, nothing else mattered.

  Everything around her seemed to slow to a crawl as if it were happening in slow motion. She raised her eyes and sought his gaze. She searched his expression for the gentleness she'd come to expect from him. It was gone. In its place were guilt and remorse and inflexible determination t
hat made her feel helpless to sway his decision.

  "You can relax Kara. There aren't any strings attached. I'm not going to the police about your brother."

  Kara hunched her shoulders against the cold wind and turned away from him.

  Fighting back hot tears that stung her throat and chest she trudged up the hill toward the turn out where they had parked. The hurt was immense when she realized how little importance he had placed on her submission. He'd walked away from her, from her gift without a backward glance.

  She was aware of Slade beside her and was painfully aware that he didn't attempt to touch her or stop her retreat. Bitter agony filled her.

  She gulped deep breaths of air as she fought back the tide of despair that closed in on her. Slade was right, their brief union hadn't been without pain. She had cried more in the handful of hours they'd been married than she had in the entire past year. But for the first time she could remember, she hadn't felt alone in her misery. Slade had been there with her, listening, cajoling, and trying to make her feel better.

  When she had been afraid of his dominance, he had matter-of-factly talked her through the fear. When she'd been frightened of lovemaking, he had been understanding and patient, coaching her until she was able to relax. When she'd been consumed by shame and embarrassment, he'd been there, quiet, and solid, holding her, giving her the tenderness she needed most.

  She swallowed hard against the lump that filled her throat. For reasons she didn't completely understand she had trusted him and had counted on his stable, reassuring presence way more than was reasonable given the brief time they'd known each other.

  Pain filled her chest. The prospect of a future without him stretched out bleakly in every direction.

  When he'd asked her to tell him about the rape she had complied, trusting him with details she had never shared with anyone. In spite of the fact that she'd never met anyone who had been able to handle the truth She'd trusted Slade. Blindly. Stupidly.

  She cursed herself for being a fool. Even her own parents, who she was sure had loved her, had not been able to deal with the aftermath of the attack. She shivered as the tide of memories began to topple in on her even as she tried in vain to hold them back.

  She jerked as she heard it again, the loud pop that carried from the park at the corner where she and Kayla had been abducted. Even at seven she had recognized the sound and she'd known what it meant. When the police had come, their cars flashing red and blue and clogging the street it had confirmed what she had already known. Her daddy was dead.

  Her mother collapsed when she opened the door to flashing lights and a solemn policeman. For Kara her father's suicide and her mother's descent into alcoholism and addiction to prescription drugs had marked an escalation in the darkness that had never really lifted.

  "Kara? Are you okay?” Slade's voice and touch startled her from her thoughts.

  "Yes—no—I don't know. Bad memories,” she choked out as she looked up and realized they were standing next to the SUV.

  "Want to talk about it?” he asked, his finger caressing her elbow through her jacket.

  She shook her head wordlessly.

  Slade sighed and unlocked her door. “Are you hungry?"

  She shook her head. The last thing she wanted to think about was food.

  Slade opened her door and waited while she settled into the seat. She felt battered and raw and overwhelmingly tired. She needed to be alone to get a grip on her emotions before they ripped her apart.

  Slade was silent, she hadn't offered any plans when he'd told her he wouldn't stand in her way if she wanted to leave their marriage. In fact, she hadn't said anything at all since his announcement and apology. She had been cold and distant, completely aloof.

  Resolved to accept her decision he climbed in behind the wheel and started the engine.

  It wasn't until they were leaving the park that he spoke. “I'm guessing you're eager to get home and get back to your own life but I'd rather not drive back tonight if it's okay with you. Neither of us slept much last night, and if we leave now it will be well after midnight before we get back."

  Kara shrugged. “It's okay. It's not like I have a job or anything.” It was the first bitterness she had ever expressed and it sliced at him.

  He glanced sharply in her direction and heaved a sigh. “Look Kara, I know I messed up your life. I'm sorry. I'll give you support, whatever you need, till you are back on your feet."

  Kara leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes. It was too painful and her feelings were too raw. She wasn't emotionally strong enough to talk about her brother or the prospect of taking support from Slade. She needed to regain her equilibrium first.

  She breathed in deep slow breaths counting slowly to four before she exhaled and counting to four again before she inhaled. Her nerves were frayed and she knew she was hanging onto her composure by a thread. She desperately needed to be alone. She needed to release the tears and pent up emotion that clogged her throat before they spilled out.

  "What's next?” She asked softly without opening her eyes.

  "What do you want to be next Kara?” Slade asked.

  She shrugged. Numb except for the pain that filled her. What she wanted was to stay married to him, to give their marriage a real chance, but she couldn't say that. She wouldn't use Slade's sense of honor to keep him in a marriage he no longer wanted. “I could use a nap. I didn't get much sleep last night."

  "Take a nap then. I'll leave you alone. When you wake up we'll get some dinner and do the Christmas festival."

  Her heart squeezed. She didn't want to go to the Christmas festival, not now, not when her heart felt as if it had been shredded into a million pieces.

  She couldn't handle twinkling lights and cheerful music. The magic and hope she usually equated with the season had died with the knowledge that Slade was sending her back to her own life.

  * * * *

  It was dusk and a thick carpet of snow had coated the landscape by the time Slade heard Kara stirring in the bedroom they had shared just that morning. So much had changed that it seemed as if a lifetime had passed since he had urged her atop him and they had made love in the predawn darkness. It seemed eons since she'd looked down at him, her eyes still glazed with passion, her expression triumphant.

  He sighed deeply. The clean, crisp, joy he'd felt when they'd made love without the reoccurrence of a panic attack was forever tarnished by the violence that had been done to her and his knowledge of it. He almost wished he'd let sleeping dogs sleep and not asked her about the details. Almost, except then he would have continued to hurt her without really knowing it.

  The afternoon hadn't been easy for him. Kara had spent the afternoon in the bedroom. He'd stayed in the living room in the rocking recliner where he had held her the night before. Her feminine musky scent still clung to the chair and had taunted him as he'd brooded about her and the emotional damage he'd done. By mid-afternoon it had started to snow, big flakes of white fluff that had gradually covered the landscape in a thick coat of white.

  Snow usually made him feel lighthearted but tonight it only served to underscore his bleak mood. Memories of Kara looking at him with fear and distrust at their wedding and crying into his shoulder after he'd caused the panic attack the night before tormented him. He still couldn't get past the knowledge that he had hurt her.

  He sucked in a deep breath and squared his shoulders, fighting the sense of looming loss that filled him whenever he thought of facing the future without her. He had known her a very short time but even so he'd known instinctually that she was the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

  She had a sweet naturally submissive quality that made him want to protect and cherish her. She brought out his natural dominance but did not make him want to be severe in his dominance as he had been with Susan. Kara made him feel protective and gentle.

  He treasured the soft and mellow parts of her and the way she allowed him to take the lead in their relati
onship. Even more he treasured the times when she opened herself emotionally and allowed him to touch the depths of her being, to see her at a sublime, almost spiritual level. He liked the way she sometimes caught him off guard with some zinger that made his breath catch. He liked the fact that she filled him with the desire to give her so much pleasure that the pleasure obliterated any memory of the brutality that marred her past.

  He shoved a shaky hand through his hair, and pushed the thought away, knowing he would never be able to give her enough pleasure to wipe out the ugliness. He'd tried, and all he'd done was deepen her pain.

  He sighed, wishing he could be what she needed, but after what she'd been through, she needed a placid husband, someone who would be calm and non-demanding in bed. She sure as hell didn't need someone like him, a dominant with an overpowered sex drive and kinky fantasies. He would never be able to settle for having lukewarm sex in the dark and pretending it hadn't happened when morning came.

  He wanted so much more than simple sex, more even than her willing submission. He wanted her to open herself, to surrender herself to him completely so that there was no part of her he didn't know intimately and understand just as intimately.

  The hopelessness of the situation frustrated him. He loved her. He wanted her. He chewed his lip, trying to piece together the fragmented pieces of what they'd been building together.

  If he thought there was a snowball's chance in hell of it working he would happily step back from demanding the physical expressions of her submission and give her time to grow into that part of the relationship.

  But even if he didn't require any physical expression of her submission, he could not imagine her wanting a relationship that included making love on a regular basis. Even if she enjoyed lovemaking in the physical sense, which she had seemed to, how could she stand it in an emotional sense when every act that was supposed to convey love and affection instead brought memories of vicious brutality?

  He heaved a sigh and pushed the thoughts away. It didn't matter how many ways he looked at their situation, or how many ways he turned the details around in his mind. The simple fact that he had forced her into a marriage that would always be painful for her still remained.