MasterofVelvet

by Kirstie Abbot

  “Adam, I want you to know how much I love you. You mean everything to me. Try to relax—I don’t want to hurt you.”

  Adam could never tell Beth why he needed to step out of reality and into the fantasy where he was her slave. Not all of it, anyway. She helped him to sleep at night but she could never know the full story of why he needed her to do this for him. Dan knew, as did the medics who’d treated his body after the kidnapping, and the counselor he’d had no patience with, but no one else. With Beth in his bed, he could cope with the memory, but now he needed her to exorcise it completely.

  If he was going to face death he needed closure—he needed to replace that memory with one where the act was carried out with love, not hatred. He could only replace it with Beth beside him—there was no one else he could ever have trusted with this.

  He hadn’t intended this to happen when he’d brought her to their bedroom—he’d just wanted to be with her. But then, when she’d kissed his back, kissed the scars left by wounds that had nothing to do with the IED incident, a switch was flipped in his mind. He needed Beth to take the memories away for good. It seemed like he’d always known that one day he’d ask this of her and that day had finally arrived.

  He watched her come closer. The pain and desolation in her eyes were like razor-sharp knives through his heart, but she was doing it—for him. That told him, as if he needed telling, just how deep her feelings for him were. Her hand was gentle on his upper arm, stroking down to his wrist.

  “Will you at least let me remove these?” She rested her hand on the cuff.

  He shook his head. Restraints were an integral part of the memory he had to change—they had to be there. He felt her resignation.

  Beth knelt beside him. She would have no way of knowing why he’d asked her to do this but he saw in her eyes that she knew there was a reason, rather than it just being some random idea. She began by touching his hair, the back of his head and then her hands were caressing his shoulders and back, the contact preceding the sweet, gentle kisses she dropped like blessings along his spine—blessings that touched the soul she’d given back to him and gave him hope for a future he’d never dared dream of.

  He closed his eyes, recalling the destructive, harrowing memory of what was, without doubt, a visit to the lowest reaches of hell. It wasn’t Egyptian cotton under his cheek but dirt and gravel. It wasn’t Beth’s subtle perfume he could smell but the foul stench of stale sweat, urine and other human detritus. He was no longer lying on his bed at home but shackled to stakes driven in the earth floor, stripped of his clothing, his dignity, his humanity, choking on the gag they’d stuffed into his mouth, listening to what his captors—who had no idea he could speak their language—were planning to do to him. He remembered his fight not to be sick, the struggle against the rising tide of nausea, the denial that screamed inside his head even as the rutting began.

  The mental walls were going up again, divorcing his mind, his heart and his soul from what was happening to his body. His breathing became shallow and rapid as the ruined walls of that godforsaken cellar in the abandoned house loomed up around him…creating that filthy, claustrophobic prison, where rough hands had tried and failed to shatter his will. It had taken every ounce of strength he possessed to hold on to his sanity—even now, it still terrified him to think of how close they’d come to breaking him, with the pain, the humiliation…and the act that, even now, even as only a memory, could still make him go cold with fear.

  But no more. It was time to finally annihilate the nightmare. It had no place in his life with Beth. He was in his own home, lying on the big bed he shared with the woman he loved. It was her hands touching him, touching him so gently, with love and care. Her warm, feminine perfume was wrapping itself around him. He lay on sheets that were clean and white and pure. Submitting to the act carried out with love was his choice—it wasn’t being forced on him.

  “Please, Adam, don’t make me do this to you.”

  She was begging. In that moment he hated himself for asking this of her but she was the only one who could do it. He needed her love. “Mistress, I need you to fuck me. Please help me.”

  He felt her lips on the back of his hand, then the gentle splash of her tears. She was going to run, his greatest fear. But then he felt her hands again, her touch tender as she stroked his back, working her way down from his shoulders.

  He couldn’t stop himself from tensing when she reached his hips, knew that Beth had felt that reaction when she paused and waited for a moment, her hands remaining in contact. Then she continued.

  Bile burned his throat. Fight—fight the memories…fight them now.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Beth was crying. Her tears were silent, rolling freely down her pale cheeks. She could barely see to squeeze the lube onto her palm.

  She wanted to stop, wanted it so much that it was tearing her up inside. But this wasn’t about her, it was about him, the man lying so trustingly in front of her. She had to do it for him. She didn’t understand what was going on, couldn’t even begin to imagine what it was all about but she knew one thing for certain—it was about something.

  “I’m sorry.”

  She barely whispered the words, knowing that even if he heard them, he wouldn’t want them. She on the other hand needed them.

  Her heart splintered when she heard his agonized moan at the first touch of her lube-coated finger to his anus. It took all her nerve not to snatch her hand away. His back arched for a moment and then he was pushing against her. Beth applied more gel, and then knelt between his long, muscular legs.

  Her resolution almost failed at the first hint of resistance. Although she’d applied lube to her fingers and his anus, the sphincter tightened defensively, protecting that most private part of his precious body. Not knowing what to do, she gently stroked the rosette, letting her fingertip linger over the center, applying just a little more pressure there, to encourage the relaxation this would need.

  His whole body was shaking. She reached toward his broad back, splayed her hand over as much of it as she could, hoping her touch would reassure and calm him.

  His hands were fists twisting in the bed linens. He couldn’t possibly be enjoying this, so why was he putting both of them through it? She looked at his face turned toward her, trying to get some idea of what was going through his mind, only for it to get a thousand times worse when she saw tears clinging to his eyelashes and the distant look in his beautiful eyes once more.

  Every cell in her body screamed to release him and hold him to her body, to give him the comfort that would take away whatever was causing his pain but instead she concentrated on doing what he asked. The sooner it was done, the sooner this would end.

  Her fingers began to work in earnest, her touch more insistent now. She murmured comforting words and felt him relax in response.

  “Please, Mistress…may I ask you to talk to me?”

  For a moment, Beth’s mind clutched at fresh air, trying to find the more meaningful words that would give him the release he needed from whatever dreadful place was holding him. But then a curious calm descended over her. All she needed to do was enfold him in her love.

  “Adam, you’re the only man I have ever taken into my heart and to the depths of my soul. What I do now is done out of the love I have for you.” She stroked his back, crooning softly to calm him. “For this moment, you’re my sub, Adam—much loved, much cherished, much adored.”

  Beth eased herself a little closer, working her fingers a little more, and knew a moment of alarm when she heard his low moan. She realized then that it was a moan of pleasure as he relaxed into the sensation.

  Beth bit her lip, trying to ignore the tide of longing that was rising within her. She allowed her hand to trail down to his behind, the muscles firm beneath her touch. At that moment, her inhibitions broke down.

  “Do you know how beautiful you are, Adam? How desirable? I can’t imagine having a day in my life when I don’t want you. And I want you
so very, very much. I didn’t realize it but it’s been that way for all the time I’ve known you. I think that’s why I’ve never been involved, never wanted to be involved, with any other man since the day we met.”

  Beth didn’t know if she was doing right or wrong but her instincts were screaming at her to show the man she loved how close to him she wanted to be. She leaned forward, and began to slide the lubricated dildo between the cheeks of his backside. The motion seemed to relax him even further and then, in one smooth movement, she eased the tip into place and began to rock her hips against him.

  “You’re mine, Adam,” she whispered against his back. “I own you. You belong to me. While there’s breath in my body, no one else will have you.”

  “Yes, Mistress. I belong to you.”

  Something wonderful, something awe-inspiring overwhelmed Beth in that instant. She felt Adam surrender to her wholly and completely, giving everything that he was to her. In return she could do nothing other than give him what he so craved.

  She felt the agony of wanting that vibrated through him. How she adored this gorgeous, wonderful man for his strength, his integrity, all the qualities that made him the person he was.

  Instinct took over, guiding her movements as she made love to Adam in a way she’d never made love to any other man. Somehow she managed to reach underneath him and found his cock, rock-hard under his taut belly, steel sheathed in velvet, leaving her with no illusions as to how aroused he was.

  The heels of his hands were thrusting into the bed, forcing his upper body upright. Beth knew a moment’s alarm then remembered that she was able to make him relax. She laid a gentle hand on his shoulder, the soothing touch enough to persuade him to resume his position.

  Beth shifted around, enabling her to take a firmer hold of his rigid shaft. Her concentration was on his pleasure, not hers, and from his reactions, it was clear that he was receiving what he needed.

  “Please, Mistress. May I come?”

  His voice was strained with the effort of control, it was tempting to deny him his release, but she couldn’t. She could deny this man nothing, especially if it meant that he could finally attain the peace he needed—the peace he deserved. “You may, Adam.”

  She held him through the most violent orgasm she had ever witnessed and when it was done, she flung the strap-on away from both of them and almost tore the bonds from his wrists and ankles, pushing the shackles, bars and chains away from him as if they were poison. Her eyes stung with unshed tears when she moved beside him, wrapping her arms around him to pull him close.

  He was saying something. Beth froze, struggling to hear what it was and then she realized he was thanking her.

  It was then that she felt his tears on her skin and she came crashing back down to earth. Dear God, what had she done?

  “It’s all right, Adam, I’ve got you,” she comforted him, pushing aside the confusion of her reaction. “You’re safe with me. I’ll only be a moment.”

  She returned from the playroom with a bottle of water, wet wipes and a soft, warm towel. With great care, she cleansed his body, her touch as gentle as she could make it. He didn’t move at all, just let her do what she needed to do. And when the job was done, she made him drink the water, lay down beside him and took him in her arms again.

  Beth waited until he fell asleep. Once she was sure that he wouldn’t wake, she very carefully moved away from him, found some blankets and tucked them around him—hating herself for what she’d done to him. She should have had more strength. She should have refused to do what he asked.

  How could she have done this to the man she professed to love? How on earth was she going to face him after that?

  How could she face herself?

  * * * * *

  Adam knew before he even opened his eyes that Beth was gone.

  He watched his hand move to the place where she should have been, watched the fingers clench the sheet. His selfishness had driven her away. He should never have given in to his weakness.

  He’d lived with it for more than ten years, for Christ’s sake. He could have lived with it for ten more—twenty more, for the rest of his life if it meant keeping hold of Beth. Was trying to banish the hell that crouched at the back of his mind worth putting her through all of that?

  She must have put the blankets over him before she left but he had no way of knowing whether that was five minutes or an hour ago. It was dark outside, but that told him nothing. He needed to find Beth, but first he needed to freshen up.

  Ten minutes later, showered and dressed casually in jeans and a polo shirt, Adam went in search of his woman. The house was eerily quiet and not knowing Beth’s location was adding to the anxiety gnawing at him.

  He found her in the family room, curled up in an armchair, reading a book in the light cast by the freestanding lamp. The curtains were closed, adding to the air of cozy comfort. For a few moments Adam just stood quietly in the hall, looking at her, letting his gaze absorb every inch of the beautiful picture she made. His heart ached with the force of his love for her.

  “Beth.”

  She looked up at the sound of her name, her expression portraying neither love nor hate. She had, however, been crying. He’d done that to her. He opened his mouth to speak—and realized there was nothing he could say to her. He turned on his heel and strode off, determined to distance himself from Beth as much as he could until he knew what he could say to her.

  After making sure that Adam was warm and safe, Beth had tidied herself up, gone down to one of her favorite rooms in the house, and made herself comfortable with a book. She’d been pretending to read for a couple of hours, unable to concentrate for thinking about Adam. She hadn’t dared to return to the bedroom for fear of finding him awake and not knowing what to say to him.

  She had no way of knowing how long he’d been standing there watching her. When she looked up at him, he looked as if he were about to say something but instead had just stalked away. In those brief seconds, she’d felt her heart leap at the sight of him, looking so strong and vital and devastatingly handsome. Then he was gone and all she got from him was a sense of a barrier going up between them. She was torn between wanting to go after him and leaving him to find his own way back to her.

  Why did relationships have to be so damn difficult?

  The sound of the doorbell was a welcome distraction. For a while she’d forgotten that Dan was coming back and that she’d promised him a steak dinner. If Adam had gone off to lick his wounds somewhere, then it was up to her to play the gracious hostess in his absence. She smiled. With Dan that wouldn’t exactly be a chore.

  “Hi, angel,” he greeted her when she let him in and he went to plant a brotherly kiss on her cheek. “You okay?”

  “Of course I am,” she responded, aware that her voice was strained. “Come on in. I’d tell you to make yourself at home but you already do anyway.” She smiled, finding a little comfort in the presence of the big blond Dom. At least there wouldn’t be any awkward silences while he was around.

  Adam reappeared a few minutes after his friend arrived. Beth left the two men talking while she went to prepare dinner, finding the kitchen a sanctuary after such a difficult afternoon. She put her best effort into trying not to work out what was going through Adam’s mind for him to have made her do that to him but the hardest thing to try to blank out of her mind was his tears. When the memory surfaced—and it did many times—she found herself crying for him. And she didn’t even have the excuse of chopping onions to explain the tears. She was just thankful there was no one there to whom she had to explain.

  Dinner was civil enough and afterward, all three of them adjourned to the family room. Beth made sure that she chose an armchair rather than one of the sofas. She needed to keep her distance from Adam. It didn’t go unnoticed by either of the men though they said nothing.

  Her contribution to the conversation was minimal to say the least. Beth was painfully aware of Dan’s attempts to include her but in t
he end she decided that it wasn’t fair to him—not only that she couldn’t stand the strain of trying and clearly failing to appear as if everything were normal.

  * * * * *

  “If you’ll excuse me I think I’ll go to bed.”

  The two men watched Beth leave the room—then Dan turned to his friend and said, with a distinctly unfriendly edge to his voice, “Okay, what have you done to her now?”

  Adam’s face betrayed nothing. “She’s had a long day. She’s tired.”

  “She was fine before I left. As soon as I got back I could see the difference in her. She looks lost. Have you dumped her?”

  Adam remained silent for a few moments. “I haven’t dumped her,” he stated quietly.

  “Then what the fucking bloody hell have you done?”

  Dan’s hands formed into fists. He and Adam were old friends—in some ways closer than brothers—but he was ready to beat the crap out of the other man if he’d done something to hurt that woman. “You made her do something she didn’t want to do, didn’t you? What did you do to her, for God’s sake?”

  Adam’s silence spoke volumes. “Not to her.” His voice was as bleak as his eyes. “I asked her to do it to me.”

  Dan swore viciously. “Asked implies that you gave her the opportunity to refuse. I’d stake everything I own that you gave her no choice, so what the fucking hell—” He broke off what he was about to say, closing his eyes as an answer—the answer—occurred to him. When he spoke again his voice was a lot calmer. “Christ, Adam, I’m sorry—”

  “Not as sorry as I am,” the other man admitted quietly. “She’s hurting and it’s all my fault.”

  “I’m not going to ask what happened—that’s between the two of you—but did you at least tell her why?”

  Adam’s defenses went up. “No,” he said curtly. “How could I tell her about that?”