Young, Allyson - Broken [Running to Love 2] (Siren Publishing Allure) (6 page)

“Tell me about yourself, Tabitha,” Kyle requested. “I know the basics from your personnel file, but please share the things you don’t usually.”

Tabitha struggled to take normal breaths and not display anything out of the ordinary. Kyle reached around her to take her breast in his hand, stroking and kneading it, circling the nipple with a fingertip. He hadn’t touched her sexually at all since she had performed fellatio, and this felt strangely like encouragement.

She summed up her childhood in a few sentences. “I was born in Tulsa. I don’t have any siblings, and my father left when I was young. My mother never told me why. I have early memories of my grandmother, my mother’s mom. She actually left me her estate and her home. It’s been held in trust for me until recently.”

She didn’t tell Kyle that she had found out about the windfall by accident when she was nearly sixteen, soon to graduate high school, after her stepbrother had moved out and her stepfather was drinking too much to have the energy to look for her if she was careful in the house. She had been hiding in the box room, prepared to explain that she needed the quiet to do a project for school if he found her or her mother did, when she tipped over a plastic container of papers. She had hastily gathered them up so her mother wouldn’t have another reason to go off on her, and her eye was caught by her own name in bold print. Carefully perusing the documents, Tabitha ascertained that her grandmother had passed away the year before and not when her mother had said she’d died.

She knew intuitively just when her mother realized the estate was deemed to be held in trust for Tabitha. That was when her stepfather got totally lost in a bottle and his son moved back with his mother. There was nothing left for either of them without the promise of the money, and their little fuck toy was no longer a novelty by then. Her mother’s rages against her escalated that last year but were held in check by the lack of backup from her drunken husband and the increasing interest of both school and welfare authorities.

Tabitha had secreted those documents and then taken them to a classmate whose father was a lawyer. Tabitha had been highly intelligent even then and knew when she lacked necessary information or knowledge. She never hesitated to use others to make gains, although they rarely realized it, for she wasn’t cruel and didn’t gloat. Lindsay’s dad had been kind enough to send a brief written explanation back to her, and the promise of freedom, the light at the end of the tunnel, inspired Tabitha to no end. She would be out of her mother’s house in a few short months, away at a college that accepted her on her marks and scholarships, not realizing that her date of birth had been carefully doctored or that parental permission had been forged. Such was her desperation that she told her mother nothing. She simply packed up her few belongings one day when the woman was out and took a bus to the college where she was provided initial shelter in a dorm room.

Tabitha had managed the first two years of college on scholarships and waiting tables, sharing a cramped apartment with three other financially desperate young women. At age eighteen, she was able to borrow against her inheritance and finish the final three years of her business degree in relative, if marginal security. She focused fiercely on her studies and graduated second in her class. There had been no time for a social life, although she had absorbed some of lifestyles through the stories overheard in the restaurant and from her roommates. She became more adept at pretending to fit in, act normally.

She had visited Grannie’s home only once but found it in reasonable repair despite being empty, the high, wrought iron fence and location close to a police station keeping the squatters and kids out. Someone had put lamps on timers with those new, long-lasting bulbs, causing the place to look less abandoned. She found out later, when she presented herself to him, that the estate lawyer had made those arrangements to protect her inheritance should she ever come forward before the wait period was up. The front yard was primarily pavers and not yet overgrown, although the back was a hopeless jungle but invisible from the street. The electricity had been paid, hence the working timers, and the trust provided for continuing the utilities and the taxes, but Tabitha didn’t want to waste the money and had the power cut off as well as the gas. The taxes bit into the reserve deeply enough.

Tabitha hired a maintenance company to ensure the house was secure, making certain the battery powered security lights she had arranged to be installed were working and doing weekly checks. The trust more than paid for the service, and the lawyer agreed that she was within her rights to make new arrangements, although he cautioned her about costly repairs if a building was left to sit too long without heat and care. Tabitha had no intention of living in that home. It wouldn’t comfort her and would hurt too much. Once she was twenty-five, she could sell it. In fact, shortly after that birthday, the bank had forwarded the name of a real estate agent desperate to make her acquaintance. Tabitha had called Karen Shust and determined there was a buyer asking about the property. She had procrastinated, unusually for her, despite thinking things through carefully, and decided to wait. She was financially stable, and now that the opportunity had come, Tabitha didn’t want to let go. Karen had asked her to call her first should she change her mind.

Kyle moved his attention to her other breast, and Tabitha snapped back to the present. He didn’t comment on her reverie, and she hastened to add that she had gone to college at an early age and, upon graduating, had little difficulty finding a job, first with a large brokerage firm, then accepting the one in his business two years earlier.

Kyle then pulled her onto his lap, leaning her back across one arm so that he could lower his mouth to her breasts. He lapped and suckled her, nipping at the tender undersides of each breast then gently biting each nipple. Tabitha’s head fell back as she enjoyed the sensations.

“Tell me about your grandmother, Tabitha.”

Eyes closed, unaware that her face brightened and her lips softened, Tabitha shared her memories of Grannie.

“I stayed with my grandmother several times when I was little, before my dad left and my mom had to keep me with her in order to foil the welfare detectives. Grannie was kind to me, so loving and warm.”

Tabitha refrained from telling Kyle that she kept those memories tucked away deep, deep inside, immune to everything else that transpired afterward. They were her touchstone.

“My mother and Grannie didn’t get along, and I vaguely recall them arguing over money with Grannie telling my mother to buck up and get a job. I know that I often asked to be allowed to go see Grannie, even if my mother refused and smacked me for asking.”

When she came to her mother’s refusal to let her visit, Tabitha tensed, and Kyle shushed and rocked her, stroking her cheek. She looked up into his eyes and felt compelled to tell him. Tabitha forced the words out, going on to tell him how she had found out when her grandmother really died. Her eyes filled with tears, and she allowed herself to remember and grieve a little.

“I think I was around nine when my mother screeched at me that my grandmother was dead. But I found some papers when I was fourteen that said she had died recently. I was overcome with sadness and loss all over again, but this time I also felt a dark rage. All those years that I could have visited my grandmother! We could have loved one another.”

Kyle pushed her thighs apart and stroked them inside, moving to touch her labia. It felt comforting, and when he slipped a finger between her folds, Tabitha felt her moisture begin to flow and facilitate entrance into her vagina. He then asked about her relationship with her mother. Tabitha tried to move from his caress at that point, and Kyle gathered her into his arms and carried her to the bedroom. He easily overcame her halfhearted struggles and tied her, spread-eagle, to the bed, leaving only one light to burn against the dark.

“I’m sure you’ve heard that confession is good for the soul, love,” he murmured into her anxious face, “and you are going to confess many things to me tonight.”

“Why?” she pleaded.

“Because your history is holding you back, Tabitha,” Kyle answered, “and because I will it.”

She lay there silently, processing his words. She wanted to tell him but was so ashamed, so humiliated and afraid of his reaction. It was too big a risk. She couldn’t trust him with everything. It was too much.

* * * *

Kyle watched her as she clearly thought things through and rejected his demand. He sighed but secretly was looking forward to his task. If any of the bad things he suspected had happened to her, he was going to force her to share via arousal and pleasure and replace those terrible memories with new, wonderful ones.

Kyle began by arousing Tabitha to near climax, only to withdraw his ministrations and watch her fall away in frustration. He repeatedly lapped at her pussy, sucking up her juices, thrusting his tongue into her opening and nibbling at her clit. She would arch against him desperately, begging with incoherent pleas he found hard to resist. But resist he did.

Kyle pressed two fingers deep into her and suckled her breasts, taking as much as he could into his mouth each time. Turning his attention to her nipples, he bit them in turn and felt Tabitha’s aroused reaction to the slight pain. He began to finger fuck her and continue to torment her tight nipples, but avoided her clit.

“Tell me more about your mother.”

Tabitha began to pant. She choked the words out. “She hated me. She never wanted me except for the welfare check after my father left us.”

Kyle pinched her clit on either side, hard, and Tabitha fell apart. He held her, murmuring encouragement, and into the silence, she told him in a broken voice of how sad and lonely her early childhood was after Grannie, how she was never good enough for her mother, could never please her. And then her mother met
him
.

Tabitha couldn’t go on, and Kyle didn’t push her. Instead, he turned on another lamp so she could see him clearly. He eased himself over her and fitted his cock to her entrance. She was exhausted, that he knew. But he needed to fuck her, and she needed to be loved, not raped, for he was certain that was what had happened to her. That was what she was not yet ready to share. Even restrained, Tabitha didn’t resist him, and he counted that as a good sign. She also appeared to be present. He wouldn’t fuck a woman who had emotionally retreated.

Kyle always used condoms. He found he didn’t want to with Tabitha but couldn’t risk pregnancy. Still, he regretted the fact that there would be a barrier between them. She would need to use birth control in the near future so that he could forgo the latex shield between them. Tabitha was wet and relaxed, and he slid his cock into her like she was made for him. He surged against her, retreated, and surged again. She was so tight, and he found he could only advance one slow inch at a time. When he was seated as far into her body as he could get, Kyle rested his forehead on hers, and she met his eyes. There was still a hint of wariness, but no real fear, no pain, and Kyle began to pump in and out of her. Her body heated around him, and her hips started to match his rhythm as moans and whimpers fell from her mouth, punctuated by gasping breaths. Kyle forced back his release, fucking his woman with a single intent. He ground at her G-spot and rejoiced in her reaction, slipping a hand between them to unerringly seek out her clit. He rubbed it in time to his lunges, and Tabitha strained against him, the muscles in her vagina clinging to him, clamping as if to never let him go. She called out his name and shuddered, and he, too, came, slumping over her and filling the condom with his seed. Kyle forced himself up to release Tabitha’s binds, and she wrapped herself around him, her mouth rocking against his neck. He felt the hot scald of tears and was concerned but for a moment. Tabitha had let go of some ghosts.

Chapter Five

Tabitha’s world became one of work and Kyle. She did not give up her apartment, although the landlord understood that when the lease ran out in two months, she would not be renewing it. Kyle allowed her this, understanding that she still required an escape route, a safety net, for she had much yet to reveal and was afraid.

At first, Tabitha compartmentalized her life as she had always done. She focused at work and pulled the company out of its slump. Then she went home to Kyle and forgot about work, surrendering more of herself to him. She shared details of some of the physical and sexual abuse she suffered at the hands of her stepfather and his son. She related the memories in a flat tone, however, the lack of affect telling in itself.

One night, after they had been together just over three months, Kyle gave her the tour of the house he had promised. Tabitha was familiar with the house and respected the locked office and basement. She assumed Kyle’s office was his sanctuary, and she actually was no longer interested in work. She traveled with him, hosted his friends, and cooked for them on occasion. She read copiously, and they never lacked for conversation, and when they weren’t simply spending time together, they were having sex.