by Linnea May
Laura swallows hard, and I can tell that she's fighting to hold back tears. I hate seeing her like this. I hate that I'm responsible for her pain.
But I don't regret telling her all of this. I feel relieved and confident that it was the right thing to do. No matter what comes of it, I’ve shared my biggest secret, a part of myself that even my closest friend and personal assistant Lemon only knows very little about.
"I had a lot of precautions in place to make sure that what happened with Sandria wouldn't happen again," I say. "But I broke my own rules, starting with the fact that I asked you to be mine."
"Because I'm not a whore," she says in a low voice.
"Yes."
"And because you asked to see me again," she adds.
"Yes," I agree. "And other rules. You made me cast all of them aside. I wanted you more than protecting my sanity. And I underestimated you."
She smiles without looking at me. It's a somber smile, but a smile nonetheless. She feels flattered.
"Well, this is not exactly what happened with Sandria back then, though," she says, surprising me. "First, you never kidnapped me. I came here of my own free will."
I chuckle. "Well, yes, but-"
"And second, I don't hate you," she adds, interrupting me.
I look at her and am met with a smile that I didn't expect. She looks strangely light-hearted considering what I just told her.
Is she mocking me?
"When I told you that you should be scared of me, I meant it, doll," I say. "I'm a psycho, an addict, a lunatic who lost control and-"
"You're focusing on all the wrong things, master," she cuts me off again. "What happened back then is scary, terrible, and yes, I admit, it was hard listening to it. But things are different now. You are different."
She pauses, her hands tensing around the mug she’s still holding in her lap.
"You're a different man than you used to be," she adds. "And I'm a different woman than that Sandria girl."
She's nervous, a slight trembling taking hold of her as she braces herself to continue.
"You're my master, and I'm your doll," she finally whispers, now locking her green eyes on mine with determined clarity.
"And I think I can help you."
Chapter 46
Laura
"Help me?" he asks, disbelief threading deeply through his voice. "You saw what happened, doll."
"You never hurt me. If you ask me, all that happened is that you extended our time together – without telling me."
"That's not all that happened," he insists. "And you know that. Don't sugarcoat this."
"I'm not sugarcoating it," I assert. "I'm just asking you to take a few steps back and really look at this. At us."
He shakes his head.
"Even if I let you downplay what I did to you," he says, "you still saw my office. You talked to Lemon."
"Yeah, who is that guy anyway?" I ask, adding an amused huff. "He sounded pissed! And worried, by the sound of it."
"He has every reason to be," he responds. "He's my assistant, and I guess you could say my only friend."
"Does he know about this?" I question, pointing back and forth between us. "I mean, about us, about what you do..."
"He does," he answers. "At least as much as he needs to know."
"Oh."
I lower my eyes, feeling the heat rising to my face as my cheeks blush. "So he knew who he was talking to? Your whore."
The thought embarrasses me.
"Not from me," Ryan says hurriedly. "He didn't know you're with me again. And he knows that you're not a whore. He was there the night I first saw you, and he knows how unraveled you left me last year when I made you leave."
His words cause me to smile.
"Unraveled, huh?" I say, winking at him.
"Don't get cocky with me, doll," he warns. "You know how that could end."
I let out a little laugh and place the mug on the coffee table before shifting closer to him, lifting his arm and forcing my body into an embrace. I'm wearing nothing but my panties and his soft sweater, and I notice his eyes traveling along my sprawled-out, naked legs. It doesn't surprise me to feel him hardening, his cock visibly bulging in his lap as I inch closer, coiling in his strong arms.
He inhales deeply when I place my hand on his crotch, gently petting his erection through the fabric of his pants, as if I was trying to calm him down.
"You really are insatiable, master," I tease. "Look at that."
"I told you," he breathes, moving his hips to meet my touch. "And if you don't stop doing that, I'll have to bend you over right here and now."
My fingers close around his cock, holding him in a tight grip that robs him of his breath.
"Okay, I better be careful then," I whisper.
"What's wrong with you, my doll?" he struggles out, visibly trying to regain his composure. "Why are you doing this?"
"This?" I ask him.
"Why are you still here?" he clarifies. "Why do you think you can help me? Why don't you see how fucked up I am?"
"Oh, I see that," I say without letting go of his cock. "I'm just not much of an alarmist. And like I said, I think you're focusing on the wrong things."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I mean that your view of everything is very black and white. All you see is the trouble that comes with what you call your obsession. Yes, it got out of hand before, and maybe it did again with me. But from where I'm standing, you never really lost your mind with me. Yes, you locked me in my room with no intention of letting me go, and you wanted to keep me all to yourself – granted. Not an okay thing to do."
He interrupts my musings with a laugh, shaking his head as he trembles under my touch.
"And you neglected your duties," I continue. "You pissed off a lot of guys it seems, most of all your assistant... what was his name? Lemon."
"It's more than that, doll," he insists. "I didn't just piss them off. I endangered the biggest acquisition my company has ever been involved in. If I don't get my shit together soon, we'll lose millions of dollars and the trust of a lot of very important people."
"Oh, well," I say, brushing his words off.
"Oh, well?" he repeats. "Do you even know what an acquisition is?"
I shake my head. "Not exactly, and it doesn't matter to me right now."
He lets out an exasperated sigh.
"What matters to me is that all of this is still fixable. You haven't lost anything so far. You haven't done any damage that can't be dealt with."
He looks at me, his mind working as he processes my words.
"You're making this sound so easy," he says, sounding defeated. "But it never really is."
"I didn't say it was easy," I protest. "But I stick to my words: I think you should focus on the positive aspects of all of this, instead of highlighting only the bad things, and remembering the terrible things that have happened to you and that Sandria girl."
"The good aspects? What could you possibly mean by that?"
"Well," I say, gently rubbing across his persisting hardness. "What you call obsession, I call dedication, or commitment. I like that you want me this much. I like that you came all the way to California to see me, and I like that you brought me back here and claimed me all to yourself."
He looks at me incredulously. "My crazy little doll."
"I didn't like that you refused to speak to me," I continue. "And I didn't like that you were hiding things from me. And I didn't like that you wanted to keep me here against my will, or at least thought that's what you were doing."
He tenses up. "What do you mean by that?"
I tilt my head to look up at him and meet the curious depth of his blue eyes.
"As sad as it may be, master, I really have nowhere else to be," I say. "I don't want to be anywhere else but here with you. Maybe that's what's making it so easy for me to forgive you."
I pause, lowering my eyes back down to his lap.
"The only thing I'm afraid o
f is that you'll push me away again," I add in a low voice. "That you'll get scared because of what happened, and that you prefer to go back to your 'system', as you call it, instead of giving me a chance. Giving us a chance."
Awkward silence stretches between us when I pause to give him a chance to reply, but he takes his sweet time coming up with a good response to my honest words.
"You're living in California now," he says eventually. "You said you needed a fresh start. I don't want to keep you from going through with that."
Now I'm the one huffing in disdain.
"To be completely honest with you, I don't even know what I was doing in California," I say. "I wasn't doing anything, really. All that talk about a fresh start didn't really live up to anything. I slacked and moped around most of the time, trying to forget you and trying to come up with something to do."
I pause, swallowing my pride before I continue to speak.
"Looking back now, California feels more like an escape," I conclude. "I thought if I just moved far enough away, I'd come up with something to do with my life, find myself, change things. But really, I was just running away from making a decision. The geographic change didn't do anything to make my life any better."
I hesitate, unsure whether I should add the last few words that have been dancing through my head.
"Unlike that move, you did bring some change into my life, and for the better," I finally dare to say. "And I don't just mean your money. I mean you."
We look at each other, the air between us oscillating with significance. He moves a finger along the side of my face, tracing the outline of my jaw and regarding me with a placid expression.
"My doll," he says. "I can say the same about you."
I bite my lower lip, trying to find the right words for what I want to tell him.
"I may not have it all figured out yet," I say. "But I can finally see a place in life for me. Right next to you, Ryan."
Epilogue
Laura
~ Six months later ~
Things went fast with us. Maybe it was because we had a whole year of suffering between our first and second dates. Maybe it was because both of us couldn't endure the thought of having to spend any more time apart after all that had happened between us.
Maybe it was because we didn't know any other way.
Or maybe it's just because it's right for us.
I moved in with Ryan after we had our heart to heart talk in front of his fireplace. He didn't want me to leave, and I didn't want to go. Why fight something when it feels so right? And let's face it, I didn't really have anywhere to go. There was nothing and no one waiting for me back in California. Of course, Layla had been worried sick about me when I didn't come back after a couple of days as promised. My phone was flooded with calls and texts from her when Ryan gave it back to me, but she was calmed down easily enough when I called her that night.
I managed to get him to talk to his assistant that same night, and I helped him pick up the pieces from the chaos that his sudden disappearance had caused. There was still more work that had to be done, but it could be postponed until the next day.
We had settled things with the outside world for the moment, and once that part was over with, Ryan and I sat down for a long dinner, the first we shared outside the velvet room, the room that used to be my prison.
He was scared, and so was I, but we both felt safe with each other.
I had no idea what I was doing, and I only realized the severity of his problems when I saw him struggling to face them. He wanted to turn away from everything and bury himself inside of me, seeking solace in my closeness. It wasn't easy to help him through it, but it was all the more rewarding when I realized that I was actually helping him. I saw him rise up again, and I knew that I was responsible for it.
I felt needed, and I liked it a lot.
He still needs me, but there's no longer that hungry desperation that almost destroyed us.
We focused on his company's acquisition in the weeks that followed. Ryan was reluctant to let me help as much as I wanted to, but he couldn't fight me off when I offered to help him organize the things he had turned his back on. After a few days, I joked that I had become his new secretary because there were times when I was better informed about his schedule and dealings than he was.
Even after such a short time, Lemon often preferred to talk to me instead of with Ryan himself, mainly because I didn't answer to him with the same annoying demeanor that Ryan likes to exhibit, but also because I was doing a pretty good job at organizing things that, until a few weeks ago, I knew nothing about and had been an absolute mess.
"Maybe this could actually be my job," I mused one night, while lying in Ryan's arms after an intensive play session. I was covered in sweat, wearing nothing but the collar and the leather handcuffs that he still loves for me to wear. I take all of it off once we leave the basement room, but my heart jumps with excitement every time he puts them on me, especially the collar. I love the feeling of being his, the feeling of being owned.
The feeling of belonging somewhere. And to someone.
He shook his head at the suggestion and brushed it off.
"No, my doll," he said. "You've been a big help to me, but you need something of your own. Besides, you don't want to work for me. I hear it's pretty stressful. Just ask Lemon if you don't believe me."
"Oh, I'm pretty sure he could tell me a few things," I admit. "But he's stayed with you, even so. It can't be that bad."
Nevertheless, Ryan insisted.
"You said it yourself, doll, your journey isn't done yet," he said. "You found your place next to me, but you still need to find your place outside of us."
And he was right. I shouldn't be his secretary or personal assistant when there were still things out there that I wanted to do for myself, like I knew there was.
College, for example.
It always bothered me that I never finished my degree. I know it would bother my mother as well, because it was disrespectful toward her. She'd fought so hard for me to be able to go to school. She even tried to stop me from coming to care for her when her condition worsened. I haven't been to her grave since the day I buried her, and I know why.
Because I feel like I've let her down.
Money was always what kept me from going back to school, but now I'm in the privileged position of no longer having to worry about that. I didn't want to go back to California, and there was no reason to when there are so many good colleges where I now lived.
I applied to a lot of them, but only received rejections.
Until today.
Today was the first time I opened acceptance letter from one of my top favorite schools. Ryan suggested that we celebrate, even though I'm not sure yet if this is where I will actually go in the end because I’m still awaiting replies to some of my applications.
Still, it's a positive reply and I'm not one to say no to a bottle of champagne and our favorite food when my lovely boyfriend suggests it. We're sitting on our terrace, bathing in the scenery of the evening sunset, sipping on champagne and indulging in a lavish platter of sushi rolls.
I'm a little tipsy from the drink, and Ryan can tell when I cast him a giddy smile. He's looking so sharp in his sunglasses, the dark shirt stretching around his buff, chiseled physique as he lifts the glass up to his lips.
"I'm proud of you," he says, smiling at me.
"I have yet to actually make it," I remind him. "Finishing the degree, I mean."
He huffs.
"That will come easy for my doll," he says. "You've faced much bigger hardships before. Remember, you’re a warrior."
I cast him a grateful smile. "You mean like taming you?"
He laughs, shaking his head.
"That's not what I'm talking about," he objects. "And rest assured, there's nothing tamed about me. You'll be reminded once we're done here and I spank that little ass of yours until you beg me to stop."
He always says these naughty things w
ith such nonchalance, as if he was talking about an innocent hiking trip we're about to take. The heat on my cheeks is no longer caused by alcohol alone. His words excite me, and I can feel the familiar tingling in my core every time he makes these promises.
"Let's just hope none of the boys at school flirt with me," I tease. "They might have to face the fury of my savage boyfriend."
He huffs and takes his sunglasses off, squinting against the setting sun as he rises. My eyes follow him, widening in surprise. Did I say something wrong?
“You’re right,” he says, facing the sun instead of me. “I shouldn’t feel safe having my beautiful doll run around campus footloose like that. Someone might want to steal you.”
He pauses, turning to wink at me over his shoulder, and I cast him a quizzical look.
"And then," he adds, walking over to me.
My breath catches when he stops in front of me, facing me as he drops down on one knee.
"They might have to face the fury of your savage fiancé," he says, producing a little black velvet box from the pocket of his pants. He holds it up to me and opens the lid, revealing a diamond ring with a twisted vine setting. It sparkles radiantly in the evening sun with such clarity that I'm almost blinded by it.
"Laura Brown, my doll, my savior, protector of my sanity and owner of my heart," he says. "Will you become mine for all the world to see?"
I'm dumbfounded. I did not see this coming, not at all. I just sit there, staring at this beautifully broken man, the man who's given me so much, the man who hasn't left my thoughts since the very first time I saw him. And all I want to say is Yes, Yes a thousand times! But my voice is failing me. I'm bereft of speech and don’t know what to do but sink down into his arms, marking my silence with a kiss that tells him everything he needs to know.