Protege (25 page)

He nodded, hiding his disappointment, as unrealistic as it was. “You may go thank your guests.” Slowly, she stood and walked to the others.

Ezra sat on a chair beside Brys while Lea curled up on her husband's lap. Jude watched as Collette slowly approached. He tried to imagine her and Brys as a couple. Perhaps they did make sense. Brys was a touch older, but he wasn't an unattractive man. It was really a question as to whether the man could fulfill Collette's needs—first and foremost—but his mind couldn't seem to go there.

As she stood in front of the other man, Jude frowned. Brys sat at attention and spoke quietly. Collette took the tiniest step back and Ezra then turned to frown at the other man.

Stepping closer so he could hear, Jude watched to see what was transpiring. Brys stood, towering over Collette.

“When a Dom tells you to do something, it isn't a request. Kneel.”

With clipped strides he went to her, rage suddenly pumping through his blood. “Don't you dare, Collette.”

Brys scowled at his interference. “This doesn't concern you. I'm only explaining something to the lady.”

Jude stopped a few feet away and without really moving, Collette seemed to creep closer to him. “Explain all you want, but you will
not
order
my
sub to kneel at your feet. You dishonor me with such a request.”

The man frowned. “I beg your pardon?”

“My submissive doesn't kneel because she's ordered to do so. She does it because she's called to the act by a Dom's actions, not his commands. Demanding her to lower herself before she has the natural instinct removes the honor she pays me every time she falls to my feet. You will not disgrace that. Not in my home and not with
my
submissive.”

There was a chilling moment of silence, but Brys eventually conceded. “Very well.”

It might have been Jude's will to see her explore this side of herself, but her submission was reserved—at the moment—for him and him alone. Brys could eat a dick and he'd be eating his fist if Jude caught him speaking to her in that tone again.

He glanced at Collette. Her eyes quivered under a wall of unshed tears, and he frowned. Had she wanted to kneel for the other Dom?

“It's getting late.” Ezra interrupted the silence. “We should probably be going.” He directed his wife to dress and find their jackets. Stepping in front of Collette, he cupped her face and pressed a kiss on her cheek. “It was our pleasure to be here tonight, peach. Thank you for having us.”

“You're welcome, Sir. Thank you for coming.”

He turned and shook Jude's hand. Leaning close, he whispered, “She's a gem, my friend. Savor the final weeks.”

Brys stood as well, collecting his clothes and dressing. Collette remained by Jude's side, her gaze averted and her face hidden by her loose curls. When the other man came to say good night, he touched her face with familiar intimacy and a good helping of genuine affection. “I look forward to the next time we see each other, Collette. It was a lovely evening.”

Her voice was small. “Thank you, Sir.”

Brys smirked, apparently amused with her response. Nodding, he turned. “Jude, you never fail to keep us thoroughly entertained. We should do this again soon.”

Get out of my house.
“I'll let you know.” He shook his hand and didn't breathe easily until every guest was off the property.

Turning to Collette, he asked, “How are you?”

Her head lowered and he frowned. Rather than answer his question, she asked, “May I please be excused for the night, Sir?”

Wanting to drag the details out of her, he struggled with letting her go. However, she was likely still processing. He weighed each option, knowing he should see to her needs and not make assumptions until he was certain she was fine. But . . .

At the moment he couldn't trust himself to be in control. His emotions were all over the map and maybe it was in both their best interests to regroup and address the subject later. “Of course.”

He could give her some time. He touched her chin so she looked at him. “I'll be up to tuck you in in an hour.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

He watched her leave the room, then went to the bar.

***

As Jude approached her door he stilled, hearing only silence. With a bracing breath, he entered. The room was dim, but not dark. Collette sat on the edge of the bed with her back toward him. Her hair was a riot of damp curls.

“Collette, you're not in bed.” He rounded the corner and stilled. “What's the matter?”

Her face crumpled as she lost the battle against her tears. “I'm so sorry, Sir. I'm sorry. I was only trying to do as expected—”

“Hey.” His voice softened as he bent in front of her, wrapping her in his arms. “Shh . . . you owe me no apology, Collette.”

She shook her head adamantly. “I did a terrible thing.”

“No, you did what we always knew you would do. You tried something to gauge your tastes. If you learned having a ménage is something you don't enjoy, then you make it a limit, that's all.”

“But that's it. I
did
enjoy it. There's something wrong with me.”

“Hush, peach. If there's something wrong with you, then there's something wrong with all of us. You're in good company.” That pulled the chirp of a chuckle out of her. He kissed her lips. “You did nothing to disappoint me, Collette. Please don't beat yourself up.”

Her gaze slowly searched his. “Nothing?”

He didn't like it, but his disappointment or displeasure wasn't her fault. She hadn't deviated from expectation, and that was commendable. His own baggage should stay out of the equation.

He was responsible for her and it was his limit apparently, a limit he hadn't had years ago. And certainly not something he should feel threatened by with a woman he wasn't committed to. “Nothing.”

Her head bowed and she sighed. Holding her hairbrush in her hand, she whispered, “Will you spank me,
mon Monsieur
?”

He stepped back, startled by her request. “What? Why would you want that?”

She shook her head. “I feel . . . I need it. I need you to do this for me. Twenty.”

He frowned. “Collette, no. Discipline's only appropriate when—”

Her gaze lifted, a glint of challenge behind the unshed tears shimmering in her eyes. “Admit that it bothered you, to see me with them.”

He scowled, not liking her tone. “Think before you speak, peach.”

“I've been thinking all night. I probably won't sleep, because I can't turn off my brain. Why won't you admit it?”

“Admit what?” he snapped.

“That it made you feel something, anything—jealousy, lust, rage—your indifference is gutting me.”

He took another step back. “It's been a long day and you're acting hysterical. Get some sleep—”

“I'm not tired.”

Now she was just provoking him. “Collette, I'm in no mood to play this game. It's late. Get under the covers—”

“Were you like them . . . with her?”

“What?”

“Ezra and Lea. Were you and your wife close like that?”

Not at all.
“I'm not discussing this with you. You've lost your chance to be tucked in. I'll see you in the morning.”

Before he made it out the door, she said, “Why are you so afraid to feel?”

He stilled but didn't face her. “The next time you bring up my wife, there will be consequences, do you understand? That topic is a hard limit.” He left without waiting for her promise.

He tossed and turned all night, his gaze constantly returning to the door that divided them. It was so much more than a door at this point and eventually he'd have to face his feelings.

I enjoyed it.

The truth of her words was perhaps the kick he needed to comprehend what he'd been telling himself all along. She wasn't for him.

When dawn finally pierced the darkness he gave up on rest and showered. Quietly, he unlocked the door and peeked into her room. She lay curled on her side, only the sheet covering her and her face hidden by her hair.

For several minutes he debated how to proceed. Perhaps sticking to their typical routine would be the best—show her he wasn't upset with
her
.

Returning to his bed, he held his phone and tipped his head against the headboard. “Damn it.” He typed out a seemingly usual text.

Good morning, peach.

He heard the ding of her phone and waited. Like every other morning, the faucet hissed softly in the distance and he watched the door, holding his breath as he waited for her to appear.

The door creaked and his raw emotions seemed to bleed at the sight of her.
Mine.
Shutting his eyes, he drew back the covers and waited.

The mattress dipped under her delicate weight as she climbed onto his lap and lifted her nightgown. Leaning forward, she pressed her lips to his chest and trailed kisses over his shoulders. His body reacted to her nearness immediately, and nothing pleased him more than the first touch of her wet pussy. She was aroused.

He guided her hips as she reached for him and slowly lowered her body to his. Heat engulfed him as she slowly rocked in a gentle canter. Her face remained hidden by her hair and he frowned. Was she hiding from him? “Look at me.”

Obediently, she lifted her gaze and found his. His lips parted at the bleakness hidden in her stare. He didn't want this chasm between them. Desperate to bridge the gap, he touched her cheek and whispered, “Do you know how beautiful you are, Collette? How courageous? You're an incredible woman.”

She blinked rapidly and moved her hips a bit faster. The pleasure intensified as his head reflexively fell back and he moaned. She was an incredible lover, skillful and determined to wring his pleasure down to the last drop.

His toes curled and his gut twitched as his release erupted into her. Her skin wore a slight flush and her lips parted as she silently caught her breath.

He wanted to kiss the concerned look off her face, erase the tired shadows from under her eyes, and ease the worry from her brow. But he did none of that, too afraid of what such a kiss might signify or imply.

Swallowing hard, he cleared his throat. “Thank you. You're welcome to stay with me for a bit or go make breakfast.”

His eyes closed as she slid off him and stood. “I'll see to breakfast, Sir.”

Hiding his disappointment, he said, “Very good. I'll be down in about twenty minutes.”

***

Collette was silent at breakfast, hardly touching her lightly buttered toast and letting her eggs go cold. “Eat, Collette. At least your bread. Your eggs are spoiled now.”

She quietly nibbled the corner of her toast without lifting her gaze from the surface of the table. He sighed. This tension was not good for either of them. It was also entirely unnecessary. He had no reason to be upset with her, yet she was playing the martyr.

He placed his fork down with an abrupt click. “Stand up.”

Her gaze lifted, a bit startled, and she slowly stood. Walking around the table, he caught her hips and roughly turned her as he stared at her mouth. Like the subtle flick of a switch, his tolerance snapped.

His hand went to the wide neck of her sweater and jerked it down, ripping the hem and yanking the material open. She gasped as her breasts pressed against her bra. Hauling the cups of her bra down, he captured a nipple in his mouth and sucked almost brutally. She arched, her body loosening in his grip as he bent her back over the table.

His hand disappeared under her skirt, shoving her panties aside. Her arousal slicked his fingers as he shoved them inside her. Her body rocked with his as he pumped his digits deep and sucked her breasts.

“I don't like this mood you're in,” he hissed, switching to her other nipple. “You're getting too comfortable with me. Your loose tongue hurls accusations too sharp for your own good, but I'd rather that than this zombie act you're pulling.”

She wreathed her arms around him and he growled. Quickly, he twisted her so she was belly to table and her ass was lined up with his hips. Flipping up her skirt, he yanked down her panties and slapped her ass.

“Is that what you want? Pain?” He slapped again. “You want me to tell you I felt something while those men touched you, while Lea licked your sweet pussy—
my
pussy.”

She gasped—the first true reaction she'd given him all morning. Another moan slipped out as his hand came down again, a pink handprint rising on her tender flesh. “You want me to tell you how furious I was when I saw your lips wrapped around Ezra's cock?” Slap. “The murderous rage I contained when you deep-throated Brys?”

Whack. Whack.

His hands trembled as his belt came undone. He grabbed a handful of her hair and jerked her head back. “How listening to you come at another man's touch made me want to beat the life out of my friends?”

He waited a brief moment, waiting for her to speak, giving her the option to safe-word. Stopping would be a struggle as he was rapidly losing his grip on control—had
lost
his grip.

The right thing to do was walk away, but he couldn't, not while knowing someone else had pleasured her last night in a way he'd failed to that morning.

His cock lined up with her pussy, prepared to ram inside her, but he couldn't move. Panting, he took the passing moment to reclaim control of his emotions, but he needed her help. “Say something,” he hissed.

Her voice was strained as he held her at a sharp angle. Her face was utter beauty and submission. Her throat worked as she swallowed, a tear sliding slowly past her lashes.
“Je t'aime, mon Monsieur.” I love you, my Sir.

His blood ran cold, his breath a solid weight inside him seeping out in a rush. Dazed, he released her hair and staggered back.