by Julia Sykes
A high, mad laugh bubbled up my throat. There was no brand. I had begged and screamed and fainted for nothing. Dimitri reduced me to that, without even touching me with his mark.
“I’m breaking you already, and I haven’t even touched you yet.” He tapped my forehead. “I’m in here.”
He was in my head. He was in my soul. I hated him with every fiber of my being. My hatred consumed me, and my laughter turned to shrieks of fury.
Strong arms closed around me. I lashed out, blindly fighting to get free.
Hugh caught my fists and pulled me into his body, pinning my arms between my torso and his chest. I shoved at him. He was holding me like I was weak and needed comforting.
I am not weak. He can’t break me.
“Let me go!” I railed, twisting in his arms. “I’m fine! I don’t need you!”
“Yes. You do.” His calm, deep voice rolled through me, tempting me to melt into his embrace.
“I don’t need you to keep me safe. I’m not weak. I can take care of myself. I can take him.”
“No, you can’t. Not like this. And not by yourself,” he said firmly. “I know you’re not weak. That doesn’t mean you can’t cry.”
“I don’t want to cry!” I shouted, even as I realized angry tears wet my cheeks. I hastily wiped them away.
“Clara,” he said my name sharply. “Take a deep breath.” He used his Dominant’s tone.
I gulped down a lungful of air.
“Another,” he commanded.
I let out a long exhale and breathed again. My rage drained away, leaving me feeling achingly vulnerable.
Hugh’s hand closed around the back of my head, tucking my face into his chest. His unique scent enfolded me like a warm blanket. He picked me up, and I didn’t fight him.
When we entered the bedroom, he kicked the door closed behind him, giving me the privacy I needed to allow myself to break down. My emotions were such a tangled, roiling mess that I couldn’t put a name to what I was feeling. I just knew there was an ache inside me, pain that was rooted in the core of my being.
Hugh laid me down on the bed and settled in beside me. I pressed my body as close to his as possible without thinking about it.
I did need him. I needed his unyielding brand of comfort. He refused to let me shut him out. He refused to let me be alone with my pain.
His large hands stroked my too-cool skin. After a while, his warmth seeped beneath my flesh to melt the icy pain inside me. Exhaustion pulled me under, and I fell asleep in his arms.
* * * * *
“Don’t. Please.” I was begging. Dimitri laughed.
Searing agony exploded through my body. I was on fire. Every inch of my skin blistered and burned.
I knelt at his feet, holding out a supplicant hand. Flames danced from my fingertips as I reached for him.
“Please.” He was burning me up. Soon, there would be nothing left of me.
“You belong to me. You love me.”
“I hate you!” Toxic emotion swelled in my chest. It filled my heart near to bursting.
“You love me,” he said again, smirking down at me.
“No!” I screamed. The fire spread inside me, charring my soul…
“Clara. Wake up.”
I couldn’t deny that voice. My eyes opened to find Hugh staring down at me, concern knitting his brow. He stroked sweat-dampened hair back off my forehead.
“You’re okay,” he assured me softly. “I’ve got you.” He rubbed a hand up and down my arm. “You’re shaking. You don’t have to be afraid.”
“I’m not afraid,” I said through gritted teeth. “I’m angry. God, I just hate him so much. But he said…” I trailed off, hesitant to share with Hugh.
“What did he say?” His voice was calm, but firm. It left no room for resistance.
“He said he’s in my head. And it’s because I hate him so much. He says he can twist that into love. But that can’t happen. It’s impossible.” The last lilted up, almost like a question. I needed him to agree with me that Dimitri could never make me love him.
“You’ve seen Alicia,” he said carefully. “Do you think she didn’t hate him in the beginning?”
I pressed my lips together, refusing to answer. That wasn’t the response I had been hoping for.
“He’s right, though,” Hugh continued on. “Your obsession with him gives him power over you. Until you can let go of your hatred, he’ll always have a hold on you, even if you do manage to kill him.”
My stomach twisted. I had never thought about it that way before, but I recognized he was right. I would never be free of him.
“I’ll own you.”
“I don’t know what to do,” I admitted, my voice small. “After everything he’s done to me, how can I just let it go?”
“I think this goes deeper than him,” Hugh said steadily. “Why did you go after him in the first place?”
“I told you. It was because he bragged about taking away Alicia’s safe words.”
“It was because of what your ex did to you.”
I flinched. He cupped my face in both hands so I couldn’t look away.
“You divorced him, but you’re not free of him. The person you’ve become since then has been reactionary. But you’re hiding the real you. I think you did it so thoroughly that you hid from yourself as well.”
That got my hackles up. I tensed. “What do you mean?”
“You’re not invincible, Clara. No one is. You don’t have to pretend you are.”
“I’m not pretending anything.”
“All right then, you’ve only been one facet of yourself since your divorce. You cling to your Dominant side. You want to be in control all the time, because your ex took that from you and you’re scared to lose yourself again. That’s what Dimitri wants to do to you: to strip you of control and make you powerless. And that’s why you hate him so much.”
“What are you, my shrink?”
“No. I’m your Dom.”
“You’re not. I don’t want a Dom. I’m the Domme. I’m the one in control.”
He brushed his thumb across my cheekbone. “You’re so much more than that, Clara. You’re sweet and giving. It’s in your nature. I saw how you were with Dex. Even when you’re topping someone, your concern is for their needs, not simply your own desires.”
“That’s just being a good Domme,” I countered weakly. “It doesn’t mean I’m pretending.”
“But you don’t want to be in control all the time, do you? You like submitting to me. If you tell me you don’t, we’ll both know you’re lying.”
“You’re talking about sex. This has nothing to do with how I feel about Dimitri.”
“It has everything to do with it. After your divorce, did you go back and renew the relationships your ex took from you?”
He was getting uncomfortably close to the truth. Truth I hadn’t even allowed myself to fully acknowledge.
“Tell me,” he prompted.
“No,” I said quietly. “I was too embarrassed.”
“Because it would have meant facing what you perceived as your failure. As your weakness. And now you’re here – on a suicide mission – because you think you have nothing left to lose, no one who will miss you.”
I bit my lip.
“I’m sure they do miss you, love. Your friends wouldn’t have sent Dex after you if they didn’t care.”
“Okay,” I said slowly. “So I do have people who care about me. That still has nothing to do with why I hate Dimitri.”
“You’re going after Dimitri so recklessly because he’s threatened to strip away the tough persona you’ve adopted for yourself. You don’t hate him as much as you hate the person your ex made you into. Now you’re scared of anything that might indicate personal frailty. But it’s your hatred that makes you weak. You can’t be truly strong until you embrace every part of yourself again.”
“What makes you think you know so much about me?” The question was meant to be a challenge
, but it came out tremulously.
His fingers worked through my hair. I resisted the urge to close my eyes and lean into him.
“I’ve seen the softer side of you. I’ve seen how badly it was damaged. You lied to me – and yourself – so many times because you couldn’t face that damage.” His eyes pierced my soul. “You can’t tell me you don’t feel complete when you let me hold you. Because I sure as hell do.”
My breath caught in my throat. “You do?”
He smiled at me softly. “You’re a prickly lass, but I like your sassiness. It makes it that much sweeter when you do let go and put your trust in me.”
“I do trust you, Hugh,” I confessed.
His expression turned more serious. “Then trust me when I tell you that accepting your vulnerability makes you stronger than pretending you’re indestructible. Dimitri represents your hatred for that part of yourself, the part you perceive as weak. If you can let go of your self-loathing, you can let go of your obsessive hatred for him. He won’t hold any power over you.”
“I don’t know if I can do that,” I said in a strangled whisper. “I’ve been this way for so long. I don’t think I remember how to be the person I was before Danny.”
“Let me help you. Submit to me. Just let go and trust in me. I’ll remind you how beautiful this part of you can be.”
He grabbed my wrists and pinned my arms over my head. Automatically, I began to struggle.
“Don’t fight me,” he said sternly. “You have your safe words. Use them if you need to, but don’t fight me.”
His knee forced my thighs apart. I tried to close them. I needed to take back control.
“I have to fight you,” I panted, twisting against his grip. “I have to at least try.”
“And why is that?” Two fingers eased between my soft folds. “Your pussy is already getting wet for me. Your body wants this. Submit.”
I shook my head. “I can’t just meekly give into you. I… It’s too shameful.”
“It’s not shameful to indulge in something you want. But I’m happy to help ease your mind.” I caught a flash of his savage grin before he flipped my body over and pressed his desire-slicked fingers to my asshole. I went completely still. “I know how to make you submissive.” He slowly penetrated me. I shuddered and let out an embarrassingly needy mewling sound. “This is your weak spot. It makes you vulnerable.” He gently pumped in and out. My fingers twined in the sheets. “And that feels good. You like knowing you’re at my mercy. That I control your pleasure. You don’t want to fight me, do you?”
“No,” I gasped out.
He pressed in further. “How do you address me?”
A shiver ran over my skin. “No, Sir,” I whispered. “I don’t want to fight you.”
His thumb ground against my clit. “Louder.”
“Oh! Sir!”
Lust fogged my mind, and my submission rolled over me. It felt so good to let go. And not just my body. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes at the intensity of my relief. Hugh wouldn’t accept anything other than my complete emotional honesty. I wanted this part of myself. I had missed it so badly. It had taken his firm brand of dominance to make me realize that.
“You want me to fuck your arse,” he said, his voice rough with desire. “Beg me for it.”
I rocked back greedily against his fingers. “Please, Sir. Please fuck my ass.”
It was like he had flipped a switch in my mind. I couldn’t deny that I reveled in submitting to him. I no longer wanted to deny it. I just wanted more of our sweet connection that we shared when I submitted to the power exchange. When I was with him like this, I found an essential part of myself that I had lost for far too long.
His arm hooked around my hips, pulling me up onto my knees. He released me to curve his hand around the back of my neck, pushing my cheek down against the mattress.
“Stay.”
I let out a low whine when his fingers left me. He chuckled and swatted my thigh playfully. This wasn’t just erotic. It was fun. Endorphins rushed through me, and I giggled.
“Is something funny, pet?” he asked dangerously.
I smiled. “I’m just happy.”
He leaned down and kissed my shoulder. “I’m happy, too. Now be a good girl and wait here.”
I watched him cross the room to his kit bag, where he retrieved a bottle of lube. His eyes locked with mine as he slowly worked the slick liquid over his cock. I licked my lips at the sight of his erection, and he smirked in smug satisfaction. It didn’t bother me in the slightest. If anything, his cocky confidence in himself only turned me on more.
I noticed something small and pink that glinted metallically when it caught the light. He was holding a bullet vibrator. Oh, this was going to be a lot of fun. My smile broadened to a saucy grin.
“Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are?” His features softened with something akin to awe.
I blushed. “You don’t have to say that.”
“I know I don’t. I’m saying it because it’s true.” He approached me slowly, drawing out the moment when he would touch me again. I was practically quivering with need by the time he reached out and rubbed his fingertips across the little patch of skin at the base of my tailbone. The bundle of sensitive nerves there ignited under his gentle touch, and I moaned out my desire for him. I arched my back, my ass lifting in silent invitation.
“So fucking beautiful,” he ground out.
Pleasure shot through me in response to his praise.
“Thank you, Sir,” I said, almost shyly.
He laughed. “You can thank me when I’m fucking you and you’re coming so hard you see stars.”
I shivered in delight at the prospect. He smacked my thigh again, chuckling.
“You’re awfully pleased with yourself,” I almost managed to sound flippant.
“I am. I’ve earned the right to be. In a few seconds, my cock will be deep inside your arse, and you’ll worship me for it.”
“I think that’s going a bit far, don’t-”
I was cut off on a gasp when he abruptly penetrated me. He didn’t press in gently or give me time to prepare. He simply slipped his cockhead in mid-sentence.
“I don’t think so at all,” he said coolly. He pushed forward in a slow slide. “Listen to you. You’re so sexy when you whimper like that.”
I was whimpering. I tried to stop, but he pulled back and started the torturously erotic process all over again. Forbidden pleasure bloomed inside me, building with every passing second.
“Tell me how much you love my cock.” He tweaked my clit.
“Ah! I love your cock, Sir. I love when you fuck my ass. More. Please, more.”
“You’re even sexier when you beg,” he rumbled, increasing his pace. “I want to feel you come now.” Suddenly, the bullet vibrated to life, and he pressed it against my clit. “Come for me.”
I couldn’t have resisted the command even if I wanted to. I screamed out my orgasm, and my tight muscles rippled around him. He hissed in a breath, and his fingers curled into my hips as he held back his own peak.
He started fucking me harder, his thrusts becoming more punishing as he claimed my body, taking possession of my pleasure.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I cried out over and over again, mindlessly high on the ecstasy he was giving me. Just as I began to come down from my orgasm, another one relentlessly claimed me. The vibe didn’t stop stimulating me, and the intensely erotic connection we shared fueled my pleasure.
“Tell me how much you love submitting to me,” he growled. “Tell me how much you love being mine.”
“I love you,” I cried out. “Oh, fuck! I love you, Hugh.” Tears streamed down my face from the intensity of my bliss.
He roared out his own pleasure, and his heat lashed at me as he came inside me. He drove deep one last time, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm.
He didn’t pull out when he settled his big body down beside mine, rolling me so my back
pressed to his chest. His arms closed around me, and he tenderly kissed my neck.
“I love you too, Clara,” he whispered in my ear.
My heart soared.
Chapter 20
Hugh fucked me again in the shower.
No, he didn’t fuck me. We made love.
I loved him. It was strange and scary and exhilarating. I hadn’t thought I would love anyone ever again. I thought Danny broke me for anyone else.
That was what I had been before Hugh came into my life: broken. I thought I was so strong, but I had only been living a half-life. I only embraced half of my nature, rejecting the other as a liability.
Hugh wrapped a fluffy white towel around me and gave me a deep, long kiss. My arms twined around his neck, holding him close. By the time he finally pulled away, I was panting for breath.
“Thank you,” I said reverently.
One corner of his lips tugged up. “For the orgasms? You’re very welcome, pet.”
“No. I mean, yes, thank you for that too. But the other stuff. What you said before, about me hating myself. It was all true.”
He tucked my damp hair behind my ear. “And how do you feel about it now?”
I took a deep breath. “Better,” I admitted. The ache in my soul had disappeared, replaced by a wonderful sense of contentment.
“What about Abramovich? How do you feel about him?”
“I still hate him,” I replied honestly. “He’s a terrible person, and he’s done horrible things to me. But I can see now that I have something to live for. Something more important than killing him.”
“And what’s that?”
“You were right. There are people in my life who care about me. And… and you. I want to be with you. I’m not ready to give this up. Especially not for him.”
His blue eyes burned into mine. “I want to be with you too, Clara. And I won’t let him have you. You’re mine.”
I nodded my agreement. “I don’t want him to have a hold over me anymore. From now on, I’ll trust you to help me take care of this. I don’t want to go after him on my own. I won’t make myself vulnerable to him by making reckless decisions.”