A Firm Hand: 2 (Bound to You) (19 page)

She grinned and reached for the remote on the coffee table, but stopped short. “May I?”

“By all means.” He lounged back into the leather. He couldn’t wait to see what this was about.

She switched over to the DVR screen and began scrolling through the shows he’d recorded. “You can tell a lot about a person by their apartment, but I can tell a lot by what they have on DVR. So let’s see, sports…
Sons of Anarchy
, such a manly show… Oh my god. You watch
Downton Abbey
?”

“Chris’ fault entirely. He got me hooked on it.”

Smiling, she shook her head.

“What? It’s a great historical drama. I love the idea of having a house full of servants. It’s incredibly hot.”

She burst out laughing. “Wait until I tell Ivy. She loves that show.”

“You’ve been talking to Ivy about me.”

“A little,” she murmured, avoiding his gaze.

“So, what have you told her about us?”

“Nothing really, just girl talk.”

It was a casual question. He hadn’t expected resistance. The question was why? “That’s not an answer.”

Head down, she picked at her pizza but gave him no response.

“Genevieve, stop acting like a petulant child and answer the question. I thought we were past this.”

She snapped her head up, locking her gaze with his. “You want to know what I told her? I told her we negotiated an agreement, that we have amazing kinky sex and that you really know how to use a cane. She also knows about the bruises I currently have on my ass. I told her about your rules and that I love how you never let me get away with anything. I told her that you’re different from any Dom I’ve ever been with. That no one on earth has ever made me feel the way you do.”

He sat in stunned silence. For once he was at a complete loss.

She inhaled shakily and looked as though she would burst into tears at any moment. “I’m not like you, Brian. I’m not a block of ice. I can’t do what we do and not feel anything.”

“Is that what you think of me? Cold, unfeeling?”

Why that hurt, he couldn’t say. She was right. He’d purposely suppressed his emotions to avoid the complicated mess that came with them. Obviously his evasion tactics had failed. Things were about to get very messy.

“It’s just that you’re so closed off, so distant sometimes. You’re still such a mystery to me. Just when I think you’re opening up, showing me the affectionate, caring person I know you really are, you pull back, freeze me out. I just… I want to know you. You ask me to bare my soul but you give so very little of yourself in return.”

“You knew what kind of relationship this would be from the beginning.”

“Yes, I remember.
No
messy emotional entanglements.
”

“So what exactly do you want from me?”

“Something I can’t have,” she whispered.

Now that those words were out, he wished she could take them back.

The boundaries between them should have remained fixed and rigid. He’d allowed them to lapse by deviating from their scheduled visits, allowing her to sleep with him, and by sharing pieces of his past. This was his fault. As his submissive, she relied on him for guidance and direction in their relationship and he’d certainly fucked that up.

How the hell was he going to fix this?

He said nothing. Gen had handed him her heart on a silver platter and he said nothing. His face betrayed no thought, no emotion. He was as cold as he’d ever been. Had she really expected he would declare his undying love for her? Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Now that she’d revealed what she truly wanted she knew things would change. He would distance himself from her.

“I’m afraid relaxing with dinner and a movie is no longer possible.” His tone was flat, chilly. “Take off your clothes then get the ball gag, wrist cuffs and clip from the drawer and come to me.”

Miserable, she obeyed. When she finished undressing, she neatly folded her clothes like he’d taught her and put them aside. Carefully, she retrieved the items he’d requested and brought them to him, unable to look him in the eyes.

“Kneel,” he ordered.

She dropped to her knees without hesitating.

He placed the gag in her mouth and buckled it tightly behind her head. “Stand up and put your hands behind your back.”

She did as she was told. He placed the cuffs on her wrists and clipped them together.

“Now, go stand in the corner. I have some work to do.”

The withdrawal of his affection nearly crushed her. She looked back at him, tearfully pleading with her eyes.
Don’t send me away.

“Go, before I decide to leave you there for the rest of the night.”

With her head hung in shame she made her way to the corner of the room and leaned into it with a muffled sob. Hot, angry tears rolled down her cheeks. He’d sent her to the corner as if she were a child. Her defiant nature wanted to rage at him for being so cruel. But more than that, she wanted to beg his forgiveness, take back all the things she’d said, promise to do better. Obviously he didn’t want to hear anything she had to say. He’d gagged her.

Saliva dripped from her chin to her chest. And now her humiliation was complete. She was drooling on herself and crying in the corner while the man she loved and submitted to ignored her. She’d much rather be beaten.

She stood there listening to him type for what felt like forever. Maybe he did intend to leave her there for the rest of the night. The thought only made her cry harder. How could he disregard everything she’d said as if she’d never spoken at all? His ability to dismiss her reminded her of what he’d told her about his family. He was able to do this because it was what he knew, what he’d learned firsthand. But was it all he knew? No. She wouldn’t believe that. She’d seen another side of him. A side he was so good at hiding.

Just when she thought she’d been completely forgotten, he was there, turning her around.

“All these beautiful tears.” His hands were gentle as he cupped her face. “What am I going to do with you, Genevieve?”

Love me.

Gently he kissed the wetness from her cheeks. His lips were so soft, so tender. They burned a path down her throat to her breasts. He sucked one of the peaks into his mouth, rolling it over his tongue. She moaned into the gag, despising the way her body betrayed her. Fresh tears slipped free even as lust seethed through her.

She wanted to hate him. Hate him for his ability to pluck emotions from her and mold them to his whims. Hate him for beguiling her body while her heart protested. Hate him for the ease with which he mastered her. Hate him for making her love him.

He knelt before her, tenderly kissing her belly, his arms around her hips, pulling her in. His tongue delved between the lips of her pussy. She trembled, abandoning thoughts of hating him, and transferred that pain onto herself. Damn him. Even through her tears and sorrow, she ached for him, loved him.

Her back hit the wall as he pressed his mouth against her. Strong arms immediately steadied her, his lips and tongue never leaving her pussy. Desire consumed everything, leaving no room for thought. His mouth was the only thing that existed and she surrendered to it. He licked and sucked as if he wanted to devour her. Gone was the careful, methodical nature she’d come to expect from Brian. He was need and desire unrestrained.

Sensation exploded though her as she came, her sobs muffled. She pulsed. She throbbed. She cried. He ruled her body no matter what state the rest of her was in. Before her orgasm ebbed, he pulled her to the floor. His fingers roughly unbuckled the gag. He threw it aside, overwhelming her with a deep, sensual kiss before it hit the ground. Her arms were crushed awkwardly beneath her. Using her thumb, she unclipped the cuffs. He hadn’t given her permission but at the moment she didn’t care. She needed to touch him.

As soon as her hands were free, she tore at his shirt, ripping the buttons, fighting to get to his skin. Her fingers found his heated flesh and dug in. He fisted her hair, painfully deepening their kiss. She kissed him back with everything she had. They were frenzied, all teeth and nails and bruising fingers.

She went for his belt, franticly prying it open in an effort to get to his cock. She needed him inside her. His hands were suddenly there, helping to rid them of the barrier between them. A brief feel of his warm, rigid shaft was all she was allowed before he pushed her hand away. They groaned together as he sank into her. He drove deep, fucked her without mercy and she loved it. She grabbed his hips, urging him deeper, harder.

She reached up and bit his shoulder, wanting to mark him as he’d marked her. The salty taste of his skin danced across her tongue. She whimpered as he tightened his grip on her hair, wrenching her head back sharply. He slammed into her and she elevated her hips to meet him. He bit her lip. She dug her nails viciously into his ass. The force of his thrusts drove him so deep it was painful, a sweet pain she never wanted to end. All too soon another orgasm crashed over her, drowning her in pleasure.

With a groan, he pulled out and gripped his cock. It was so intimate, seeing him this way—his guard down. The arctic façade had given way, showing her the man beneath. His head was thrown back, eyes closed and his mouth slack with ecstasy. He pleasured himself with quick, hard strokes—a carnal fantasy come to life. Already she wanted him again.

A raw, primal sound rumbled in his chest. His muscles rippled as his orgasm tore into him. Unable to tear her gaze away from him, she was riveted. He laid thick ropes of come across her belly. He fought for breath, coming back to himself, and sat back on his heels.

Please look at me.

She wanted so badly for him to acknowledge what they’d just shared. He’d broken her down without an ounce of physical pain and taken her when she’d been laid bare. Naked beyond skin. She’d never felt quite so vulnerable. She needed him to see that. Needed him to piece her back together. It would only take a look, a word, a touch.

He opened his eyes but only stared at the remnants of their coupling displayed on her stomach. His sigh was deep and troubled as he rose to his feet. Turning away from her, he fastened his pants and straightened his shirt.

An unbearable ache settled into her chest and she rubbed at it absently.

“Get dressed.” The frost in his tone was unmistakable.

He walked away, left her a ruined mess of limbs and despair on the floor. She curled on her side and fought another wave of tears.

They’d come full circle.

You can do this. People fly every day. Stop being such a baby.

Gen’s stomach was one big knot. She gripped the armrests of the plush leather seat until her fingers ached. Anxiety prevented her from appreciating the extent of the luxury around her. A disembodied voice came over the intercom, but she didn’t catch a word of it. How could she when her heart was beating so damn loud?

Deep breath.
“Are you sure this thing is safe?”

“Of course,” Brian replied. He wasn’t even paying attention to her. He was absorbed in his stupid iPad.

She glanced around the cabin, claustrophobia threatening to join her newfound terror of planes. “But it’s so small.”

He sighed and looked up at her as if he were irritated. Concern immediately creased his brow. “You’re pale.”

“I’m fine.”
Not even close.
“I just… You’ve flown in one of these before, right?”

“You didn’t tell me you’re afraid of flying.”

“I’m not afraid.” That sounded pathetic, even to her.

He tucked the tablet away and reached for her hand across the narrow aisle. The warm strength of his fingers entwined with hers did little to calm her nerves.

“But…I’ve never actually been on a plane before.”

“Never?” He looked astonished.

“Nope.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I didn’t think it would be a big deal. People do this all the time, right? I should be able to handle an hour flight to Miami. It’s not like we’re crossing the Atlantic or anything.”

“Mr. Donovan,” the pilot announced. “We are cleared for takeoff.”

Adrenaline flooded her veins, making her skin flush and her scalp tingle. With her free hand, she tightened her seatbelt until it dug into her hips. She squeezed the shit out of Brian with the other. Panic made itself home in every cell of her body. “Oh god.”

“Genevieve, look at me.”

She forced herself to meet his worried green eyes.

“You’re going to be fine. I’ve chartered this very jet with the same pilot many times before. It’s perfectly safe. I would never put your life in danger. Do you believe me?”

“Yes, but it’s not really helping right now.” Nothing would help. She was terrified. Small planes dropped out of the sky all the time. They crashed and burned leaving no survivors, only mangled wreckage for emergency responders to comb through. She’d heard about it on the news a couple of times this year alone. What if it happened to them? What if they went down in the Everglades somewhere?

“What can I do to help you?” He stroked her thumb with his.

The jet picked up speed at a breath-stealing pace as it barreled down the runway. Nausea churned her stomach. Her breath came in short pants. “I don’t know. Talk to me. Something. Anything.”

“Just breathe and think of a topic.”

“What?”

“How about horror movies? You like those, should be easy for you.”

What the hell was he talking about? “Sure, whatever.”

“We’ll run through the alphabet. I’ll start us off.
Alien.
Now it’s your turn. Give me something starting with B.”

“What?”

“Give me a movie starting with the letter B. Or can’t you think of one?”

“
Ugh.
Of course I can.
Bride of Frankenstein.
”

“
Carrie.
”

“Oh good one. Um…” She mentally ran through her movie collection. “
Dawn of the Dead.
”

“
The Exorcist.
”

“You’ve seen that?”

“Are you kidding? It’s a rite of passage. Watched it when I was twelve. Scared the shit out of me. Your turn.”

“Okay, okay… I’ve got one,
Friday the 13
^th
.”

“Too easy.”

“Oh and
The Exorcist
isn’t? Your turn.”

“How about
Godzilla
?”

“Original or remake?”

He made a rude noise. “Do you even have to ask that?”

“Well then it should be
Gojira
shouldn’t it? And that’s not really horror. I’d consider it more science fiction.”

“If you say so. Your turn.”

“
Horror of Dracula.
I love that movie even more than Universal’s version. Christopher Lee is a much better Dracula in my opinion. Nothing against Bela Lugosi of course.”

He gave her an enigmatic smile.

“What?” she asked.

“Don’t panic.” His words were soft and careful. “Just look out the window.”

She glanced out the little round portal. They were above the clouds. Holy shit. “We’re in the air. How did you do that?”

“It’s a trick I used when I was a kid. I was shipped around a lot—different prep schools, summer camps in England—I think I mentioned it.” He waved a dismissive hand. “That’s how I dealt with it when I had to get used to sleeping in a strange place. Feeling better now?”

How could he be so nonchalant about that? “Still nervous, but not ready to jump out of my skin anymore. Thank you.”

She considered asking him to elaborate on his childhood. Glimpses into his past were so rare. He hardly ever spoke about it and when he did it was never enough to give her a clear picture. Fear of him shutting her out always kept her from pressing him, but curiosity won out this time. “How old were you?”

“When I was sent to my first prep school?”

She nodded.

“Six.”

The same year his mother had left.

The panic was gone, but something else had settled into its place. Sorrow? No, anger. How could his father have sent him away at such a young age? Hadn’t anyone cared about him? No, she wasn’t angry. She was pissed off. He’d only been a little boy.

“I know that look. What are you thinking, little Genevieve?”

The words were out before she could stop them. “I’m pissed off. I can’t believe your father would send you to boarding school at six. No offense, Brian, and I know I haven’t met him, but I really don’t like him.” Was he trying to hide a smile? “What?”

“I had one of the best educations money can buy. Only you would feel bad for me for that. Most people would consider it a privilege.”

And what had he said?
Money doesn’t always equal privilege.
“I’m sorry but that doesn’t sound so wonderful to me. It sounds awful and lonely.”

He shook his head, the ghost of a smile still on his lips. “I can understand how you would see it that way.”
Oh he’s so condescending.
“But it taught me to be self-reliant. I wouldn’t be who I am today had things been different.”

“So am I wrong about your father?” She should shut up before her mouth got her into trouble.
Again.

“Actually, no.” His lips thinned. “He’s a very difficult person to like, but enough about him. What about your father? Tell me about him. What was he like?”

Point to him for turning the tables. She blew out a breath. It had been a long time since she’d talked about her dad in a way that didn’t include the “C” word. “Well, he was a good father and a good husband and a hard worker. I look like him—light-brown hair and eyes, short and wiry.”

“Your hair is brown?” he asked, amused.

“Yes, boring old brown. Anyway, he always spent a lot of time with me, even when I was little. I remember hanging out in the garage while he worked on his latest restoration project. He always had rock music blaring in the background. To this day I can’t hear Foreigner or Bob Seger without thinking of that garage.” The memory brought a bubble of laughter.

“He restored cars?”

“Yeah, as a hobby. His pride and joy was a convertible ’58 Corvette. God that car was beautiful—silver blue with matching vinyl interior. He would sit me on his lap and let me steer as we drove around the neighborhood. I always loved that.”

“What happened to the car?”

“He had to sell it. Bills were always piling up. Just when we’d get ahead something would happen. Air conditioner would crap out, braces, new school clothes—that kind of thing. I never wanted for anything though. My dad always made sure I didn’t have to do without.”

“Sounds noble.”

“Not really. That was just the type of man he was. He was a little rough around the edges, but he had principles. He taught me a lot.”

“Like what?”

“He taught me to fish and I don’t mean just cast and reel. I learned how to clean and gut my catch. He also made sure I knew how to change the oil in my car, change a tire, do minor repairs. He always told me that being a girl shouldn’t prevent me from knowing how to take care of myself. He also insisted my mother teach me to cook and sew. There were times I loathed him for insisting I learn all these things I swore I would never need, but now that I’m older I’m glad he was hard on me.
He
taught me to be self-reliant.”

Brian smiled at that. “Your mother taught you to cook?”

“Well, she tried to. It didn’t work out so well. Some things just can’t be taught. I can boil water and make a damn good sandwich so it’s not like I’ll starve if the pizza place is closed.”

“Good, I was a little worried.”

“Sarcasm is supposed to
my
thing. What about you, Mr. I Have a House Manager? Can you cook?”

“Of course I can.”

“I’ll believe
that
when I see it.”

“I only prepare meals for special people.”

“Or when Chris has the night off.” She snorted.

“Smart-ass.”

“Did you cook for your other submissives?”

His face darkened. “No, I didn’t.”

“Were there many like me?”

“No, Genevieve. There have been none like you.”

She ignored the way her heart swelled. He couldn’t have meant it the way it sounded. “You know what I mean.”

The silence in the plane was acute and painful. Had she overstepped?

He turned away and stared straight ahead, his face a frozen mask. “I’ve only had one other relationship aside from this one and it was a long time ago.”

“Was she your submissive?”

“She was…” He cleared his throat. “She was mine for two years.”

Two years.
Jealousy, bitter and acrid, rose fast. It was ridiculous for her to feel that way about someone from his past, but she couldn’t help it. Had he loved her? Had she loved him? There were so many questions swimming through her head. Did she dare ask him any of them? Would he tell her anything if she did? No time like the present to find out.

“What happened to her?” She was on precarious ground and she knew it.

His chest rose as he sharply inhaled. He turned toward her, probing her with a hard gaze.