At His Mercy

by Shelly Bell

  He squeezed her tight. “I won’t let anyone hurt you, Angel.”

  His heart beat steadily under her ear, soothing her like a lullaby. “You can’t be with me all the time. If he wants to get to me, he’ll find a way. That’s what happened before.” She shook her head. “God, look at me. One threat and I fall apart.”

  He rubbed circles on her back. “Are you sure it’s from Tony? Is it possible it’s from Chloe or one of your family members?”

  Her stomach cramped. “No. My family knows better than to call me Izzy. I suppose it could be from Chloe, but she’s never called me Izzy before.”

  “Call her.”

  With shaky hands, she dialed her roommate. At the sound of her voice, she said, “Hey, Chloe. Sorry to bother you—”

  “I was just about to call you! I’m in! I didn’t get Maria, but I got Rosalia, which is still a huge role.”

  She tried to keep the panic from her voice. “You did? I’m so happy for you!”

  “I’ll probably be out all night, so if I don’t make it home, don’t worry about me. The cast is going to hang out and get to know each other tonight. But tomorrow, don’t make any plans, because I want to take you to dinner to celebrate.”

  “That sounds great.” She grabbed Tristan’s hand for support. “Um, did you text me earlier, by any chance?”

  “No. Why?”

  “No reason.”

  There was a long pause. “Listen, why don’t I meet you back at the dorm?” Chloe’s voice was laced with sympathy. “I felt terrible leaving you after you got that phone call from Erin.”

  “Don’t be silly. I’m fine. Just go have fun.”

  “Isabella—”

  “I’ve got to go. See you tomorrow,” she said quickly, ending the call before Chloe could interrogate her. She dropped the phone on the carpet and sighed. “It wasn’t from Chloe.”

  Tristan tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “Do you trust me, Angel?” he said softly.

  When it came to Tristan, she had no doubts. “Yes. I trust you.”

  His lips brushed her forehead. “Then trust me when I tell you that I’m going to keep you safe. I promise you, Angel. No one is ever going to harm you again.”

  Sixteen

  For the second time since his divorce, Tristan slept with a woman in his bed. And not just any woman.

  His Angel.

  Exhausted by both the sex and the emotional breakdown over receiving that text, she’d fallen asleep in his arms not long after they’d called the police. He held her close, soothed by the feel of her breasts against his side and the sound of her deep breaths. Although she appeared to be sleeping peacefully, her hand was curled into a tight ball on his chest, and every few minutes, she’d whimper as if she was having a nightmare. He wished he could get inside her mind, be her white knight, and vanquish the metaphorical dragons for her. If anyone deserved a good night’s sleep, it was Isabella.

  Because Tony was still in the hospital, the police didn’t see the text as an immediate threat, and without any real evidence connecting the message to him, they alleged their hands were tied. The most she could do was come down to the police station and file a report in the morning. She also left a message for Erin. But likely nothing would happen until Monday, and even then, he had a feeling the text wouldn’t be enough to keep Tony in the hospital.

  The law had already failed him once. Not directly, but Morgan had known when she’d taken the photos of them that courts rarely accepted consent as a legal argument. If she’d gone to the police with those pictures, it was probable that he would’ve served prison time for abuse. It was a stigma that would’ve followed him for the rest of his life. Forget starting Novateur, he would’ve been lucky to find a job that paid anything more than minimum wage. He would’ve been ruined.

  So he’d given in to Morgan’s blackmail.

  He’d be damned if he let the law fail him again.

  He would do anything to protect this woman.

  Especially since no one else would.

  No, he wouldn’t rely on the cops or the courts to keep Isabella safe.

  That was now his job.

  She’d been right. He couldn’t be with her all the time. Not even if he wanted to. But he had the responsibility to teach her how to protect herself. Both emotionally and physically.

  Starting tomorrow.

  Eventually, lulled by her steady breathing and the warmth of her body snuggled into his, he must have fallen asleep. The sun was low in the sky when the sound of Isabella crying tore him from his dreams.

  Her body jerked against him, each limb twitching. Registering the dampness on his chest, he found her cheek wet with her tears. Her eyes were closed tight, lines of tension pinching the edges. He didn’t know whether to wake her, but he couldn’t bear to see her cry.

  He hushed in her ear and rocked her, smoothing his hand down the length of her hair over and over again as his mother had done to him when he was a child.

  After a minute, her lashes fluttered, and her beautiful green eyes stared up at him. “You’re here,” she said, blinking as if she was imagining him.

  “Technically, you’re here. We’re at my place.” He sat up, reclining against the headboard, and tugged her along with him so that her head was on his chest, supported by his elbow. “You were having a bad dream, I think. Was it about Tony?”

  Her lips pressed together in a line. “I’m not…it started out the way it always does. I’m lying in a bed, drugged, unable to move, and he’s got a bloody knife in his hand. I watch the sunset knowing it will be my last one.” She narrowed her eyes. “But this time, the nightmare changed. He disappeared, leaving me alone in the cabin. My phone was ringing, so I got up from the bed and found it in my purse. When I answered it, all I heard was laughter coming from the receiver. And then it grew louder until it filled the room, and I realized the person who was laughing was inside the cabin with me. I ran to the door, pulled on the knob, but it wouldn’t open, so I ran to the window.” Her voice cracked. “You were right there on the other side, calling my name. Just as you shattered the window, someone attacked me from inside. This time the knife…” She swallowed and took a deep breath. “…it went straight through my heart.”

  His stomach soured, acid eating at his esophagus, and his chest constricted as if there were a boulder sitting on it. He ached for her. No one should have to live with the constant threat of violence hovering over her head. She’d left an abusive relationship and had spent over a year healing from it. What kind of legal system allowed for an innocent woman to fear for her life while the man who tried to kill her went free?

  No wonder she was worried.

  It didn’t take a genius to interpret her nightmare.

  She didn’t have faith in his promise to protect her.

  The system had failed her.

  He wouldn’t.

  And he would prove it to her. Starting right now.

  “Get up. We’re going for a ride,” he said, kissing her gently on the lips. He immediately rolled out of bed to keep himself from fucking her until she screamed his name and begged him to stop. There would be time for that later. Right then, she needed something different than his cock.

  She raised an eyebrow and followed him out of bed, bending over to pick up her pants and giving him a nice view of the bruise on her right ass cheek. The sadist in him roared in triumph at seeing his mark on her body. Sure, no one else would see it, but he’d know. It said she fucking belonged to him.

  She was his.

  His to cherish.

  His to punish.

  His to defend.

  If she didn’t already get that, she would by the end of the day. By the time he brought her back to his bed that night, she’d know exactly what it meant to be his submissive.

  Once they were dressed and ready, he grabbed an extra sweatshirt for her, his bag filled with perverted goodies, and a blanket. She still hadn’t asked where they were going, and that fact pleased him. It meant a part
of her trusted him. Too bad he wouldn’t settle for just a part. But as her Dominant, he’d first have to earn it.

  She zipped up her coat and allowed the hood to cover the top part of her face. Most people in his building would be sleeping this early on a Saturday, but he was glad she wasn’t taking any chances of someone seeing her face.

  From there, he drove her straight to the police station, where she spent twenty minutes explaining her past history with Tony to an Officer Hanson, providing a copy of the restraining order via e-mail, and showing the text message. Unfortunately, the officer hadn’t been any more concerned about it than the one on the phone the previous evening. But Isabella had taken it in stride, remaining pleasant even when he could tell from the pinch of her lips and the redness in her eyes that she was suffering on the inside.

  After picking up two donuts, a black coffee for him, and a mocha latte for her, he headed north on the highway, taking them out of town where no one would recognize them. He cranked up the heat in the car and flipped on the radio, hoping to create a comfortable environment for Isabella to relax.

  As they left the town of Edison in the rearview mirror, Isabella angled her body toward him and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

  He chuckled. “Does it really matter?”

  He’d wondered how long it would take her to ask. Control freaks always had a difficult time sitting in the passenger seat. When his mother had been alive, she would stomp her foot on the car floor as if she were stepping on the brake pedal. Of course, back then, she had a reason to…he’d been a terrible driver.

  “No, I guess not,” Isabella said with a shrug. “But I’m not big on surprises.”

  “I bet you were one of those kids who couldn’t wait until Christmas morning to shake her gifts and try to figure out what was inside the wrapped boxes.”

  He could just imagine her as a child, her red hair in pigtails, wearing snowman pajamas, underneath the Christmas tree weighing the presents in her hands and holding them up to her ear.

  Her lips parted as if she was about to argue, but all at once, they turned up into a smile. “Guilty. I hate surprises for myself, but I love to surprise other people. In fact, one year, I threw Tony…” Her smile melted off her face like candle wax.

  “It’s hard not being in control, isn’t it?” he asked, trying to redirect their conversation from her ex. Thankfully, he’d learned she was easily distracted by confrontation.

  She folded her arms across her chest. “Not liking surprises has nothing to do with control.”

  He chuffed out a laugh. “Doesn’t it? Who’s behind the wheel of the car? Who knows where we’re going? Me. I have the control.” He glanced at her, not surprised to see the stubbornness in her posture. “How does that make you feel?”

  “You sound like my therapist.” She turned her head to look out the passenger side window and grew quiet. “It makes me nervous. Not knowing what to expect. Relying on you.”

  There it was—the truth.

  “And yet you seem to have no problem with my taking control over sex,” he pointed out.

  “Well…yeah. That’s different.”

  “Why?”

  “Why?” Annoyance laced her tone. “I don’t know.”

  Deep down, she did know.

  It wasn’t him she couldn’t trust.

  It was herself.

  He reached over the center console and took her hand. “The first night we met, you trusted me with a flogger. You trusted me to honor your limits. You trusted me inside your body. Why can’t you trust me now?”

  “I do trust you,” she said, a notch forming between her brows.

  “Not entirely. Do you trust me not to drive us off the road? Definitely. But why can’t you let yourself relax and just enjoy the moment? Why do you need to know where we’re going?”

  “Because…” She swallowed and ran her hands down her thighs. “Because…the unknown scares me. I can’t plan or prepare for it. I’ve always been that way. But after Tony, it got worse.”

  Of course. Because Tony had reinforced all her self-doubts.

  “Being in control is exhausting, isn’t it?” he said quietly.

  “Yes.”

  “When I dominate you, how do you feel?”

  “Free.”

  “It’s the only time you cede control,” he explained. “That’s why the submissive role is so alluring to people with demanding careers. Giving control to someone else doesn’t make you weak. I’m sure you know that.” He tapped the side of her head. “Up here. Now, we need to make you believe that in here.” He placed his fist over her heart.

  “And if I do? How will giving up control help me?”

  “It’s only when you give up control that you’ll find your strength and start to believe in yourself again. You want to know where we’re going? I’m taking you to one of my favorite spots. I found it when I wasn’t much older than you. It will give us the privacy we need for what I’m going to teach you.”

  The car grew silent, but he could practically hear the wheels of her brain cranking. She was overthinking things. Tense. And that simply wouldn’t do. “Unzip those pants of yours and tug them down to your knees. Then spread those gorgeous legs and finger yourself. But do not come, Angel,” he warned.

  Only a second of indecision flashed in her eyes before her lids grew hooded and she puffed out one of her little gasps. His cock jumped against the zipper of his jeans as if trying to punch its way out. Keeping her gaze on his face, she lifted her butt off the seat and pulled down her pants. She slowly parted her legs, teasing him.

  With one hand, she pulled her panties to the side, exposing the pink lips of her pussy, while her other hand delved between them. Her moan filled the car.

  He didn’t want to take his eyes off the sight, but unfortunately, he didn’t want to drive them off the road…especially since she trusted him not to.

  The car’s engine couldn’t mask the sound of Isabella’s fingers plunging in and out of her wetness. He marveled at the beauty of her submission. She was completely aroused. Her eyes were glazed and wild. Her skin flushed.

  “Don’t come,” he reminded her, sensing she was close to climax.

  Her fingers slowed and she blew out a breath.

  He smiled. “Good girl.” Keeping her on the edge for the next hour would be torment for them both. “You’re dripping for me, aren’t you, Angel? Show me those fingers.” When she held them up for his perusal, he grasped her wrist and brought her fingers up to his nose. Inhaling deeply, he smelled her arousal as strongly as if his nose were buried in her pussy. “Taste yourself for me.”

  She bit her lip. “I…”

  “You’ve never tasted yourself, have you?” He wasn’t surprised when she shook her head. “Then I’m ordering you to do it.”

  This time she didn’t pause. As she stuck her fingers in her mouth, her lips closing around them on a hum, he imagined it was his cock in her wet mouth she was enjoying.

  His head fell back against the seat with a thunk.

  It was going to be a long fucking drive.

  Seventeen

  After he’d finally allowed her to climax, she hadn’t once asked where they were going. Instead, she’d rested her head against the window and sang along to the radio, her mood both carefree and tranquil. The stress lines marring her face had disappeared, and her eyes were clear. She would likely attribute the change to her orgasm, but he knew the truth.

  It was because she’d given up control.

  For her, sex worked like a switch in her brain that instantly flipped her from control freak to submissive.

  If he had his way, he’d soon replace that switch with his voice, and eventually, she’d submit to him without any provocation at all. Her submission would become as natural to her as breathing.

  As they neared their destination, a large sign on the side of the road greeted them, announcing their location.

  “Welcome to Paradise,” Isab
ella read out loud. She sat up and cocked her head. “We’re in Paradise?”

  “The night we met, I promised you paradise, and I always keep my word.”

  She let out a laugh, her whole body quaking with it. “We drove three hours for that?”

  “No, I drove three hours to show you that.” He jutted his chin toward the massive tree-capped hills stretched out in front of them. While Edison’s trees had also turned from green to the traditional autumn colors, the woods here seemed somehow brighter and more vibrant, as if each leaf had been individually painted on the branches. “We’re going to Tahquamenon Falls State Park. Fifty-two thousand acres of mostly undeveloped wilderness and home to one of the largest waterfalls east of the Mississippi.”

  No longer laughing, her expression turned soft as she looked out the window. “It’s beautiful.” She curled her hand around his upper arm. “You said you used to come here?”

  “Here, I’m reminded that I don’t have control over everything. I’m just a man. I might find strength in domination, not submission, but every now and then, I’m humbled by the reminder that there’s a greater power than me in this world. It gives me strength when I falter.”

  “Thank you for sharing this with me.”

  It was the least he could do for her. He couldn’t be the type of guy she probably deserved—someone her own age without baggage or complications. But he could be the man she needed.

  He followed the loop through Paradise and turned into the lot where they’d park to see the more populated touristy area of the state park. When they got out of the car, he took her hand, showing her they were free to display their affection for one another here. “It’s only a quarter-mile hike to the falls.”

  Their fingers intertwined, they strolled along the paved path that took them down to the overlook. There were people all around. Couples. Families. The occasional single individual. And not one of them gave him and Isabella a second glance.

  Through the heavy scents of leaves, grass, and dirt, he could smell Isabella, a mix of vanilla and sex. She was drenched in it. In him. In the saliva he’d left on her body from his exploration of kisses and licks. And in the perspiration he’d dripped onto her as he’d pounded her pussy to his own explosive climax. In their rush to leave this morning, they hadn’t showered.