Hot, Rich and Dominant 5 - No More Secrets Page 6

  “It’s off, Serena. They fucked it all up in exactly the way they promised us they wouldn’t.”

  She sagged, as if his words had been a physical blow. “Really? There’s no way they can—?”

  “No,” he interrupted sharply, then turned to pace across the kitchen like a tiger in confinement. “No do-overs, no corrections. We could go forward and hope for the best, but it’s just too risky now.”

  His sister was silent, her shoulders slumped and her attention turned inwards, somewhere I wouldn’t have been able to follow even if I’d had the slightest idea what the hell they were talking about.

  I’d just opened my mouth to ask when a violent, brittle sound shattered the silence.

  “Marc! God!” Serena said sharply, leaping to her feet and running over to the site of the destruction. Marc had thrown a glass at the wall in a show of anger and frustration I’d never seen in him before.

  I looked between them, trying to decide how to react. Marc was radiating pain and distress as well as the fury that had made him hurl the glass. Serena was pale and pissed off, yet concerned. I had no idea what was causing this, but something told me I was missing a puzzle piece, or several, and that speaking up wouldn’t help at this point.

  Marc took several deep breaths, his hands balled into fists, and visibly made himself relax. When he glanced over at me, he looked ashamed of himself, though the rage and fear still lurked in the shadows of his expression.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Serena sighed. “I know this is disappointing. We’d been pinning so much on this and now we have nowhere to take it. But there has to be something else we can do. We just need to calm down and figure out a way—”

  “Disappointing?” Incredulous, Marc turned on her. “Serena, this isn’t just disappointing. It meant everything. I needed to do this. To get out from under his thumb. To get on with my life without having to worry that every time I let down my guard, he’ll...”

  Frustratingly, he stopped short of actually elaborating, and I’d had enough. “Guys, what the hell is going on?”

  They both looked at me blankly. I got up, crossed to stand in front of Marc and took his hands in mine. “Please. Don’t shut me out anymore. If this is important to you, it’s important to me, and I want to help you.”

  He stared at me, conflicted, tense. More than anything, I wanted to smooth out his frown, kiss it away, but with Serena in the room it would have been inappropriate. I settled for giving him a beseeching look, hoping he could read my emotions as clearly as I could see his right now.

  “You haven’t told her anything?” Serena asked from behind me.

  Marc’s attention shot from me to his sister, his irritation clear. “Don’t judge me, Serena. Not after what happened with Callie. Do you really blame me?”

  She sighed. “No. Believe me, I understand. But I don’t know if keeping Nell in the dark is such a good idea. At least if she knows, she can be on her guard.”

  I looked from one to the other, brother to sister and back again. They weren’t all that similar-looking in terms of physical characteristics, but at the moment they wore identical expressions of weariness, frustration and fear. It chilled me to the bone to see it—whatever had happened in the past with their father, it had left a lasting legacy of terror.

  “Someone—I don’t care who it is—just tell me what’s happening. I need to know.” Desperation taking hold, I threw the only thing I could think of at Marc, half-terrified that he’d call my bluff. “If you don’t level with me, I can’t be your submissive. I can’t give control to someone who doesn’t trust me with the truth.”

  In the deep, despairing silence left by my words, I stood my ground and refused to let my own distress show. I was in the right and I knew it. I just had to stand up for myself. Self-respect, Serena had said earlier. She’d been right.

  Serena touched me on the shoulder. “I think this just became something between you and Marc. I’m gonna leave you guys to it. Call me when you’ve worked things out and we can pick this up later.”

  While Marc and I stayed still, she headed out of the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

  In her absence, we stared at one another. Marc almost seemed to be waiting for me to give in, but I wasn’t going to. Submissive or not, I had to take care of myself, and Serena had said I needed to be ‘on my guard’. Whatever that meant. I wasn’t backing down until Marc gave me some answers, although inwardly I longed to throw myself at his feet and beg for a way to make everything all right again.

  Marc swallowed hard. The fury and the snappiness had drained away from him, and now he just looked unbearably sad and torn.

  Just as I was about to repeat my demand for him to spill it, he spoke, his voice so low I could hardly hear it. “If that’s what you need, Nell, you should go. God knows I can only complicate things for you. I renounce my claim as your Dom.”

  My entire body went cold, from the surface of my skin right down to the marrow of my bones. Had I just heard him right? Did I mean that little to him?

  No, please! Don’t say it’s over. I’m yours—you said it yourself. How can you let me go so easily?

  The words wouldn’t make it past my lips—at first because of the shock of the situation. Then, as a slow-boiling anger began to build, the desire to beg faded, replaced by the need to lash out—to hurt him as he’d hurt me.

  I stared at him, although my vision blurred as tears began to form. “So that’s it? You demand every speck of honesty from me, but when I dare to ask for the same courtesy, you cast me aside?”

  His jaw was clenched, and he said nothing.

  There was a physical ache of loss in my chest, but I’d be damned if I’d let him see it. “So that’s it, huh? That’s all I mean to you.”

  “Nell...”

  I didn’t want to hear his excuses. Turning away, I stalked across the room to get some distance from him, fumbling with the collar around my neck, which seemed almost to be choking me now. “I get it. I do. You’d rather work this all out on your own, and of course, a submissive chick like me could never have anything to contribute to solving your problems.”

  I knew I was being unfair, implying that his lack of respect for me came from my being submissive. If anything, Marc had been the one to reassure me that submission was something worthy of respect. But I needed to hurt him and this was the easiest way.

  “I guess in your world, a sub is just someone you invite over for convenient kinky sex, not someone to share your life and your issues with.” The buckle on the collar was stiff—or maybe my fingers were just shaking so badly that I couldn’t use them properly. I tried again, my frustration growing to match my heartbreak. “But you’ll have to find someone else, because I’ve had enough of being kept in the dark.”

  Finally, the collar came loose around my neck, and I tore it away, threw it at his feet. “Don’t worry, Mr. Cassidy. I’ll just grab my bag and get out of here, and you’ll never have to worry about what I think again, if you ever did in the first place.”

  As I turned to leave, the shock and pain on his face began to sink into my consciousness, but I was done. I had nothing left to throw at him, and I had to get out of here before I broke down completely.

  I ran from the room and headed for the stairs, focused on grabbing my gear and escaping as fast as possible. A couple of moments passed before I heard Marc coming after me, just as I leapt over Sentinel in the hallway.

  A few footsteps later, as I ran up the stairs, I heard an aggrieved yowl and hiss, followed by an emphatic stream of curses. Something told me Marc had tripped over a certain furball, and although I felt bad for the cat, I couldn’t help a grim smile that he’d hampered Marc’s progress.

  Marc’s room smelled of him. Of us. It made my heart break all over again, but I pushed away the urge to break down, casting about the room for the stuff I’d left here. The toothbrush and toiletries could stay—I’d buy more. I shoved my hooded jacket into my bag, grabbed my phone and e-re
ader from the bedside cabinet, then turned to the door just as Marc crashed through it.

  I opened my mouth to warn him not to touch me, but he was too fast. He tore my bag from my grip and tossed it aside, then drove me backwards against the wall and pinned me there, his face unreadable. Trying to hold onto my anger even as the heat of his body softened my resolve, I hit out at him. “Stop it!”

  He intercepted my wrists and pinned them to the wall on either side of my head, immobilising me. He was too close to kick and too strong to break away from, and goddamn it, the traitorous submissive part of me found that arousing as hell.

  “Damn you,” I muttered, and held still, keeping my eyes closed so I wouldn’t have to look at him.

  “I’ll tell you everything.”

  Shocked, I stared up into his turbulent brown eyes. Surely I had misheard. There was no way he could have just said that, less than five minutes after dumping me.

  Before I could say anything, he continued huskily, “I need you, Nell. Don’t leave me.”

  I had no more fury to keep my tears at bay, and they were streaming down my cheeks. I swallowed past the lump in my throat, trying not to break into full-on sobs.

  “I’ll tell you everything, I swear. Just stay.”

  For a moment, I was incapable of speech, of thought, of anything. My mind had completely blanked.

  Marc released me, stepped back. He had the look of a man who had just gambled everything he owned and might have lost it all.

  Relief flooded through me, so strong and all-encompassing that the intensity of it pissed me off again. How could I have let him get so close that my entire emotional solar system revolved around him?

  I lunged at Marc, unable to tell whether I was going to kiss him or kill him until I reached his arms. He yanked me close, crushed me to him in a strong, masculine embrace as I grabbed his head in both hands and kissed him with a violence that surprised me. Marc groaned against my lips, fighting my tongue for entrance into my mouth, and I grabbed handfuls of his hair, grinding frantically against his rapidly rising cock.

  Breaking off for a second, I bit his lower lip, then said breathlessly, “Never, ever do that to me again, you bastard.”

  “Don’t you ever take off that collar without my permission.” He claimed my lips in another fierce, bruising kiss.

  We tore at each other’s clothing, cursing fastenings, ripping seams in our attempts to get free of the barriers between us. Marc lifted me off the ground and I wrapped my legs around his waist, clawing his bare shoulders with my fingernails as he carried me towards the bed.

  My body hit the mattress, jarring the breath out of me, and I gasped for air as Marc drove his cock into me hard. Pinned beneath him, all I could do was writhe, trying to get him to withdraw and begin to thrust.

  “Tell me you love me, Nell.”

  It was the last thing I’d expected him to say, and my guard was still too far up for that. I did love him, wanted to tell him, but part of me was still outraged at the way he’d almost let me go. “Maybe I don’t love you.”

  He backed off just enough to thrust again, even deeper than before. I squeezed tightly around his cock, trying to torture him with sensation into moving faster, harder, but he wouldn’t be swayed.

  “Tell me.”

  “No.”

  “Eleanor, don’t make me get up so I can tie you to the bed and put that collar back on you. I already know you love me. You told me last week at the club, when you were a little out of it. I need to hear you say it now.”

  I blinked up at him, confused for a second. I didn’t remember confessing my love to him. I’d been biting back the words since the first week I’d met him.

  “Fine. I do.”

  “Say it.”

  The tears were back, and I couldn’t help them. I fought him for control, but he was too strong, pinning my wrists above my head. He might as well have demanded I tear out my heart and give it to him for safekeeping. I didn’t trust him with it, not after what had just happened, but I knew I’d already handed it over. The words were just a formality. “I love you,” I whispered, closing my eyes in defeat.

  He kissed me; it was possessive and deep and territorial. My head spun. The most intense emotion I’d been trying to suppress welled up, an insistent pressure in my chest. “Again.”

  Just as quickly as it had dissipated, my rage resurfaced. Did he even know what he was demanding of me? How much he meant to me? Or were the words just an automatic, expected endearment to him? “I love you, goddamn it! I love you, I love you, I love you!” I punched his shoulders, scratched his arms, did anything I could think of to hurt him physically, even as I confessed how much I never wanted to hurt him on an emotional level.

  “And I love you, Nell.”

  I froze, stopped breathing. I felt too fragile to believe him. He’d already hurt me so much; to trust in those seductive words and have them turn out to be false would be like sticking a knife into an open wound and carving deeper.

  He cradled my face in his hands, leaving me nowhere to hide from his gaze.

  “Tell me what you’re feeling.”

  “Scared.” The word erupted from my traitorous lips before I could stop it.

  Marc closed his eyes for a second, his lips half-forming words that never made it out of his mouth. When he looked at me again, I caught my breath at the sorrow and anxiety in his face. “Me too. I’m fucking terrified that I’ve let you into my heart. I didn’t plan to. But watching you walk away from me just now, it hit me like a bullet to the chest. Everything I’ve ever done…anything I have planned for the future… None of it means a thing without you, Nell. I know it’s safer if I let you walk away but I’m too damn selfish. I can’t lose you.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat, a dizzy warmth suffusing me. Everything in me whispered, Believe.

  “Tell me again.”

  He smoothed my hair back from my face, not trying to hurry me up, just gazing at me as if memorising every tiny detail. His focus was the last straw. My defensive emotional walls crumbled and I lifted my head off the pillow to press my lips against his. “I love you.”

  Marc exhaled hard, tension flooding out of his muscles. “God, I love you too.” He gave me one of the lingering, provocative kisses that always turned me to jelly, until I melted beneath him and his cock inside me pulsed, protesting our inactivity.

  “Please take me, Sir,” I whispered.

  We started off slowly, rocking together, seeking the joy of each other’s touch, not trying to get anywhere at first. It was good, intense in its own way, but just too…vanilla.

  I scratched my nails down his back, hard, and Marc lifted his head, amusement shining through the haze of desire in his eyes. “Are you trying to provoke me into proving exactly who your Dom is, Eleanor?”

  “I need to know I still have one, Sir,” I admitted, a wave of insecurity crashing over me at the words.

  His expression sharpened, and with one hand he pulled my head back by the hair, baring my throat. “We’ll deal with the collar issue later. Right now, I’m going to lay claim to my property. Any problems with that?”

  “No, Sir,” I murmured, my body clenching around his cock as a thrill travelled down my spine. He nipped at my neck just hard enough to hurt, and I embraced the warm pain as a substitute for my collar for the moment.

  Marc withdrew from me almost completely, then slammed deep inside, the power of the movement startling a cry from me. He fucked me mercilessly, each driving thrust into my pussy taking my breath away. This was a reclaiming, and I knew it even before he breathed, “You are mine. Don’t you dare forget that, Eleanor. Touch yourself if you have to, but give me your orgasm now.”

  I moaned as he guided my hand down between us, gazing up at his gorgeous face, his sculpted body and intensely possessive expression. There was nothing I wouldn’t consider doing for this man, and as I touched myself just right, he came with a growl in almost violent, shuddering spasms, pushing deep, deep within me. Hi
s closeness, his need to dominate me, the sudden fragility in his expression as he opened his eyes in his afterglow—all of them pushed me to the very edge of climax.

  Marc brushed his lips over mine, his breathing still unsteady, and I tipped over, crying out with emotional and sexual release as my body took over where my mind couldn’t reach.

  “Good girl,” he murmured, holding me tightly as tears spilled from my eyes and my body quivered with aftershocks.

  “Goddamn it, Sir,” I whispered, and burst into the sobs I could no longer hold back. Marc held me—kissing my forehead, stroking my hair—as I gave in to the final burst of emotion.

  Chapter Six

  “I can’t believe you broke up with me, you asshole,” I said finally, once my tears had subsided and we were curled up together under the covers. It wasn’t the most respectful way I could have put it to my Dom, but I needed to get it out.

  Marc reached out to entwine his fingers with mine. “I know. I’m sorry.” He sighed. “In my defence, I was trying to protect you.”

  “A misguided, well-intentioned asshole.” Despite myself, there was warmth in my voice.

  “Guilty.”

  That was exactly how he looked, and as I remembered the devastation in his face when my defensive insults had hit home, my heart squeezed. I shook my head, resolving to put all this behind us. “I forgive you. Or at least, I will if you tell me what’s going on with your dad.”

  Marc nodded, resignation falling over his features. “I guess it’s time, huh?”

  “Please.” I rose up on one elbow to get a better look at him, ignoring the lustful part of me that wanted to just tempt him into more sex and forget about the serious stuff.

  “Okay.” He stared up at the ceiling rather than looking at me, as though he didn’t want to have to analyse my reactions at the same time as getting the story out. “Don’t interrupt.”

  “I’m listening.” Inside, I was trembling with both curiosity and fear of what he was about to reveal, but I stayed as calm as I could on the outside—for Marc.