We Were One Once Book 1 (19 page)

I won’t pretend that was my
only reason though. I didn’t want to wait. I liked the control and
power that was mine. And now, in the darkness alone, I can admit as
I always do to myself that I liked punishing her. I liked knowing
she was all mine, and only I would have her that way from then
on.

She didn’t cry. She just
submitted to me. I held her for hours that night in front of the
fire. I enjoyed our peaceful end to a horrific day; it was a
beautiful beginning to our lives together.

Anderson Valley: Simon
Lamb

I wanted her tears. I
wanted her screams. I wanted everything I usually got from a girl I
brought here. But her one lonely tear is more than I can take, more
than I can handle. “Grace…” I whisper. I don’t want to break her
calm again. I don’t want to startle or scare her more. “Can I let
you up? Will you be a good girl?” She only nods once, still keeping
her face turned away from me.

I let go of her arms,
noting my red finger marks on her tiny wrists. I don’t move off her
though. I sit up more, taking my weight off her but keeping her
between my legs. She doesn’t try to move, not even her arms which
must be sore from fighting me.

I gently reach out and pull
her face back towards me; she doesn’t resist. Her eyes are soft and
lined with tears, but her voice is strong. She sounds sweeter,
softer. “I’m sorry.” No seduction, no anger, no fear.

“Wanna tell me why you
flipped out?”

She shakes her head but
keeps her eyes on mine.

I smile. “I’m used to a
girl being afraid or a little freaked out when I use a whip, not
when I’m just talking.” She returns my smile; hers is more
tentative and like a butterfly’s wings, spread wide for only a
small moment. “Was it a delayed reaction to the whipping?” I glance
down at her body. The marks are red and angry looking in spots. Her
nipples are painfully erect still. She doesn’t follow my look, just
stares steadily up at me.

“No. I didn’t feel the
punishment.”

“It wasn’t a punishment
whipping.” I correct her automatically. I decide not to expand on
that just yet. “I thought you were enjoying it as much as I
was.”

“Yes.”

I frown at her obvious lie.
“You said it excited you.”

“Yes.” Another lie, but
she
was
excited
before.

“But now you say you didn’t
feel it?”

“Yes.” Lying again? I don’t
think so.

I put my hands to my face in
frustration. I’m getting nowhere with her. I run my hands through
my hair and push a big sigh out, looking down on her again. She
hasn’t moved or changed expression other than the small smile. “I
need you to be honest with me, Grace. I need you to tell me the
truth.” Her face flinches for a moment, a shadow of the anger peeks
through her softness. “Why did
that
just upset you? Can’t you be honest with
me?”

“Have
you
been honest with me,
Simon?”

I smile at this. “Yes. For
the most part.” And it’s true. I didn’t lie to her about my
intentions in bringing her here.

“What part haven’t you been
honest about then?”

“You’ll answer my questions
first, Red.”

“Please call me Grace. I
like that name better.” She lowers her eyes to my mouth. “I like
the way it sounds from you.”

I smile once more, and her
eyes come back to mine. She doesn’t return my smile this time, just
waits for me to speak.

“All right, Grace.” At
this, she smiles—a sweet, wide smile that startles me. It’s a smile
I’ve only seen when I give a girl an extravagant gift, not after
I’ve just whipped her or when I’m holding her down. I brush my
thumb across her soft lips, and she smiles even more for me. I’m
distracted from the craziness of a moment ago by her beauty, her
openness.

“Why did you freak out?
What was it that I said or did that had you so afraid and angry?” I
try for a gentle tone, but my natural authority, my naturally
controlling tone, comes through anyway.

She swallows hard but
bravely doesn’t look away. I can see the fear in her eyes
again—what I’ve wanted to see for so long—but this isn’t how I
wanted it to be. I knew she was broken; that was part of the
challenge with her. I had no idea just how broken she was though,
and now that she’s here—under me, wearing my marks…I don’t know
what to think. My fucking feelings are getting in the
way.

“You said I was yours.” Her
voice is flat, holding back emotions that her eyes only
hint.

“And that made you
angry?”

“No.” She pauses, looking
down at my mouth again for a brief second. “Yes. But mostly
afraid.”

“Why afraid?” She shakes
her head, closing her eyes. “No. Look at me!” Her eyes pop open,
and I have a momentary thought that I’m glad she didn’t change in
that second. She’s still soft and open, sweet. I’m able to soften
my tone a little. “Why afraid, Grace?” She responds to me using her
name, almost smiling.

“I don’t belong to
you.”

I chuckle at this. I look
down at her body, pinned under mine. “Yes. You do.”

“I can’t belong to you when
I already belong to another.” She shakes with the last word, her
eyes pierced with fear, filled with tears. I can smell it on her,
feel it from her, and I’m rattled by a stab of jealousy.

I’ve never felt jealous
before. Whatever I’ve wanted, I’ve had. I’ve taken. No woman has
been out of my reach unless I placed her there by my own rules.
I’ve stolen women from other men before, just for the fun of it or
because I could. It’s not a game I play often, too boring and easy,
but I’ve never had a woman refuse me yet. And I’ve never lost a
woman to another man. Even Raquel begged me not to push her away.
She said she’d find a way to get out of marrying that other guy. I
was the one that ended things with her.

Grace is slightly calmer
when she speaks before I can, “I don’t want to lead you on,
Simon.”

I laugh at this, shaking my
head at her seriousness. She’s whipped, in my home, under my
control, and she’s worried about leading
me
on?! But she speaks again before I
stop laughing, “I can’t give you what you want.”

I still shake my head, now
with equal parts confusion and amusement. “What is it you think I
want, Grace?”

“Me.
All
of me.”

I grin. “I think I
already
have
you
right where I want you, sweetheart.”

She shakes her head, a look
of sadness in her eyes. No. Pity? “You hide almost as much as I
do.” She laughs at her own words, short but sweet—a soft, sad,
tinkling bell sound. I automatically put my hand on the side of her
throat to feel it, and she smiles like she understands my need. “I
can’t give you all of me. It’s not mine to give
anymore.”

She moves finally, lifting
one hand off the bed and placing it lightly on my chest. Her
fingers are delicate and cool, lightly rubbing just the tips
against my skin. My chest pops in goose bumps. “For what it’s
worth, some of me is already yours. You’ll never have all of me
though. I’m sorry, Simon.”

I react without thinking,
grabbing her arms and holding her down again, growling inches from
her face. “I have all of you right now, Grace! You’re not going
anywhere, and you
will
give yourself to me! Whether you try to fight me or
not.”

She only adds to my anger
by smiling sweetly up at me, ignoring the pain in her wrists I must
be causing. Her voice is airy and cool. “I’m sorry.” She moves her
eyes back to the spot she was just touching on my chest. “I wish I
could give you what you need, Simon. I wish…” She looks back into
my eyes with that look of pity again. “I wish we weren’t so
broken.”

I lose it. I let go of her
and backhand her across the mouth hard. Hard enough to break open
her lip. Hard enough to see her bright red blood smear across her
white teeth. Hard enough to scrape open the skin of my knuckle on
her tooth.

I jump off her. I expect
her to react with the same wild anger, to charge at me. I hope she
will. I want her to hurt me back. I would let her hurt me. I stand,
shaking and panting, waiting for her to move. I stand completely
open, but she stays on the bed, unmoving. I didn’t hit her hard
enough to knock her out.

“Grace?” I whisper her
name, not stepping towards her. Her hair covers her face; her body
lies still and lifeless. Her stomach rises and falls with even
breaths, as if in a deep sleep. “Grace.” I stand next to the bed,
bumping it with my legs. There’s no reaction, no movement
still.

I sit on the bed and reach
slowly towards her face. No change. I brush her hair off to the
side, trailing wisps of her blood along her jaw. Her face is still
soft, innocent, marred only by the ugliness of my anger. The urge
to protect her again shoots pain up my stomach, clenching the air
from my lungs. I’m overwhelmed by its suddenness and strength, the
unfamiliarity of feeling anything for a girl.

I swallow back the tears I
feel stinging my eyes. I lean forward and gently kiss her lips,
staining my own with the pain I’ve caused, with the mark of my
shame. One tear falls on her cheek, and I watch it roll to the side
to get lost in her hair. It follows the path of her one
tear.

I’ve never lost my temper
like that. I’ve hit women. I’ve brutalized women, all in the name
of the game I play, all calculated and in control. I’ve been
merciless in my demand for complete obedience and submission
before, but I’ve never once lost control of myself. I’ve never even
once been emotional around a woman before.

I gently wipe the spot on
her cheek made wet with my tear. I can feel more wanting to escape.
Instead, I jump up and head to the bathroom. I avoid looking at
myself in the mirrors, avoid turning on a light. I reach for a
washcloth and wet it with cold water.

Grace is still as she was
on the bed, unmoving. I gently wipe her mouth and face. Her lip is
already swelling, but the cut is small at least. I lean down for
one more kiss on her cheek and whisper, “I’m sorry,
Grace.”

I’ve never apologized for
something I’ve done. I think I apologized to my grandfather
once…maybe. I take a deep breath against more tears and stand up,
covering Grace with a blanket. I move to sit at the chair next to
the fireplace, watching her peaceful breathing.

In Flight: Miles
Vanderson

Today will be a good day.
Hopefully.

I’m heading to San
Francisco to weed through Spencer’s latest findings in person. The
man has proved worth his weight in gold so far. I know where
Gillian has been since she left my house three years ago. Just
saying these words to myself is a miracle. Spencer has certainly
earned his bonus payment.

I turn my face towards the
window to hide my content from the flight attendant. I already told
her that I didn’t need anything else, but she’s been back to pester
me a few times. She’s pretty enough and her blowjobs are nice, but
I’ll have to replace her. I can’t have staff around that doesn’t
follow my expressed wishes.