Knight (An Impossible Novel) (25 page)

BOOK: Knight (An Impossible Novel)
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I’m
afraid,” I countered softly.  “Please, Master.  Please go.”  I used his title in a show of supplication, praying he would listen to the respectful request.  I suspected an outright demand would only make him dig in his heels further.

But my tactic made no difference.

“I’m not going anywhere.”  His firm promise filled me with despair.  “You’ll accept that, girl.”

But I wasn’t his slave anymore.  I never had been.  The right to refuse him, to defy him, had always been mine.  I just hadn’t realized it before.

“No.  I won’t accept it,” I declared staunchly.  “Leave, Smith.”  I pushed against his chest in order to free myself from his hold.  He didn’t even seem aware of my efforts.

His brows rose in surprise as he drew in a shocked breath at the sound of his name on my tongue.  Then his lips curved into a smile, and he chuckled.

“Nice try, sweetheart.  But I don’t follow orders.”

“But -”

Smith gently covered my mouth with his hand, smothering my protest.

“I’m not saying this as your Master.  You have every right to tell me what to do.  But that doesn’t mean I have to listen.  And I won’t.  As Clayton will happily tell you, I’m a pigheaded asshole.”  His jaw firmed, and the amusement left his eyes.  “I’m going to find the fucker who hurt you, Lydia.  So I’ll only be leaving you when I’m not out hunting him.  Is that clear?”

His hand left my mouth, his questioning eyes demanding my affirmative answer.  Anger swelled within me.

“The only thing that’s clear to me is that you’re a goddamn idiot as well as a pigheaded asshole,” I hissed.

There was a sharp edge to his pleased grin.

“I don’t know where you picked up that kind of language, sweetheart, but it really doesn’t suit you.”

My anger flared at his lighthearted reaction to my fearful demands.  Couldn’t he understand I needed to keep him safe?

“Listen to me, Sm-”

My heated words melted into a groan when he brought his mouth down on mine, and something darker than anger flared deep within me.  He took advantage of my parted lips, penetrating them with his tongue, moving it against mine in firm, dominant strokes.  I shivered in his grip, instantly relaxing into his arms as my body eagerly ceded to his control.  His low, approving growl reverberated through my mind and rumbled through my flesh, concentrating at the heated place between my legs.

The release brought on by my submission to him was heady.  His lips drew my grief and my fear from me and took them into himself, helping me shoulder their seemingly insurmountable weight.

My hands fisted in his shirt, clinging to him more tightly.  His fingers sank into my hair in response, holding me in place so I couldn’t escape him even if I wanted to.

And I didn’t want to.  I never wanted to.

When he finally pulled away from me, I was gasping for breath, my head spinning from the high of his kiss.  I was shocked to realize that his chest was rising and falling rapidly as he drew in ragged breaths of his own

“God, I’ve missed you, Lydia,” he said, his voice rough with longing and regret.

I touched my fingers to his brow, trying to smooth the creases that had appeared there.  He was obviously still unsure about what had happened between us.  But I wasn’t.  I would help him to see that he had done nothing wrong.

“I’ve missed you too, Smith,” I said softly.

One corner of his lips quirked up in a lopsided smile, and his eyes glowed molten silver.

“Do you have any idea how goddamn sweet my name sounds on your lips?”

My breath caught in my throat at the intensity of his words.  Before I could remember how to breathe again, he crushed his lips to mine, devouring the sweetness there.

Suddenly, breathing didn’t matter anymore.  The twisted nature of the beginning of our relationship didn’t matter.  The fact that there was a sadistic man stalking me didn’t matter.

Nothing mattered but the sensation of his tongue moving against mine, the comfort of his powerful arms holding me.

Safe.

Chapter 22

The loss of Smith’s heat roused me instantly.  His body had remained shaped around mine throughout the night, his presence the only thing keeping my sanity intact when I awoke from nightmares of Tucker’s lifeless eyes.

The weak light of dawn filtered through the crack at the bottom of the door, the only source of illumination in the windowless room.  Even though Smith was no more than a darker shadow in the indigo gloom, my eyes found him straightaway.

He bent to silently retrieve his belt, tie, and shoes, the only articles of clothing he had removed before climbing into bed with me.  I had craved the sweet sensation of his skin against mine, but he had refused.

Master had demanded that I relent.  I knew my protests were useless when he called upon that side of himself.

It seemed I had more protests to voice this morning.

“Where are you going?”  I asked, my voice not in the least bit meek.

Smith paused.

“That bossy tone is going to take some getting used to,” he said, evidently amused.  “But I don’t mind.  I like a challenge.”

“This isn’t a game, Smith.”

My hot words only elicited a laugh.  “You sound like Clayton.  Minus the expletives.”

“Fine.
  Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

I had never been one to cuss, but if that was what it took to get his attention, I would gladly curse up a storm.

He just laughed again.  “Nice try, little one, but I don’t listen to Clayton, either.  Besides, I thought I told you that sort of language doesn’t suit you.”

His voice had taken on a huskier edge, and he slowly, languidly approached me.  I should have been thrilled with my small victory; my crass words had kept him from leaving me.  But all I could think of was how badly I wanted him to touch me.  I sat stock still where I had pushed myself up on my elbows, my breaths turning shallow as the predator slinked toward me.

More soft light had filtered into the room with the rising sun, and all of it seemed to have been absorbed by his gleaming metallic eyes.  Despite the fact that everything about his demeanor communicated an approaching threat, my body remained frozen, trapped in rapt fascination as I watched his graceful movements.

His forefinger stroked a feather-light line down my vulnerable neck, pausing on my carotid artery.  His teeth flashed white in a pleased, hard edged-grin as he enjoyed the feel of my racing pulse under his touch.  I hardly breathed when his hand gently cupped my neck, his thumb resting across my throat in a silent threat.  A shiver raced across my skin at the ultimate show of dominance, and my body compliantly eased back onto the pillows as he guided me down with only the barest pressure.

His thumb brushed up and down over my artery as his lips softly caressed mine, reinforcing my utter helplessness in his grip.  He caught my raw, animalistic whimper in his mouth, savoring it.  His tongue demanded more of the sweet flavor of the sound of his victory over me, and he stroked into my mouth in teasing forays.

When he had consumed his fill, he pulled back from me just enough so that his lips still teased across mine as he spoke.

“I’m going to work for the day.  You’re going to stay here and mind Clayton like a good girl.”

His fingers squeezed ever so slightly around my neck as he nipped at my lower lip, reinforcing his order.

I found myself nodding my acquiescence automatically.  “Yes, Master.” 

I shook my head sharply, struggling to shake off his intoxicating power.  “I mean no.”  My protest was laughably weak.  I cleared my throat and tried again.  “If you refuse to leave Chicago and insist on staying with me, then you’re going to stay with me in the safe house.”

He growled in disapproval at my demand, and he moved to press his lips against mine again, to further drug me with his kiss.  I wrenched my head to the side, desperate to keep my wits about me.

“Please, listen to me.  I know you’re not afraid of him, but you can’t stop a bullet.  I can’t let him take you from me.  He already…  He already took Tuck.  Please don’t go after him, Master.”

The shadows that were retreating in the wake of the sunlight pooled beneath the suddenly taut lines of his face as he pulled away from me.

“I’m not your Master, Lydia,” he said, his efforts at a cool tone ruined by the jagged edge to his words.  “What I did was wrong.  What I’m doing now is wrong.  Fuck,” he muttered.  “All I wanted was to help you, to keep you safe.  But I kept you from your life.  I kept you from your husband.”  His lips twisted bitterly.

I touched my hand to his forearm.  His muscles were tense beneath my fingers.

“You did nothing wrong,” I insisted softly.

Self-loathing bled into his features.  “The fact that you think that just proves how thoroughly I fucked things up.  I knew how vulnerable you were, and instead of helping you find yourself again, I kept you in your slave mindset.  I didn’t want that for you, but that doesn’t change the fact that I did it.  It doesn’t change the fact that I took advantage of you.”

“You’re wrong,” I said firmly.  “I’ve thought about this a lot.  I won’t deny that my mind was warped when you found me.  I won’t deny that I was obsessed with you from the very beginning, when you showed me kindness.  I had forgotten kindness existed.  What you did for me – providing me with rules and structure –
was
a kindness.  I wasn’t even a person then, much less Lydia Chase.  I couldn’t face how far I had fallen, how I had been degraded.  If she had been thrust back on me all at once, I wouldn’t have been able to handle it.  I might have rejected her forever.  You made me feel safe enough that I slowly re-discovered myself without even realizing it.”

The yearning that stirred in his eyes communicated that he was desperate to believe me, but it didn’t fully drive away the anguish that flooded their silvery depths.

“I’m glad to hear that, Lydia.  That’s what I wanted, what I had hoped to do for you.  But I took things too far.  I fell into the illusion I had created for you.  You were so sweet, so trusting.  And when you said you needed me…  Fuck, Lydia.  The Dom in me couldn’t help but respond to that.”

“I did need you.”

He shook his head, his shoulders slumping slightly.  “You thought you did because of the roles I allowed us to slip into.  If I hadn’t allowed you to see me as your Master, you wouldn’t have felt the need to interact with me sexually.  That’s all you knew then.  You had been abused into thinking that the only way you could demonstrate your submission was by giving your body.  I should have controlled myself.  Hell, I shouldn’t have let things get that far.  As soon as I found out about Chicago, as soon as I learned your name, I should have gone to the Bureau and tracked down your family.”

“But I didn’t want to go.  I wasn’t ready to face my old life then.  You just honored my wishes.  You respected what I needed.”

“No, Lydia,” he said harshly.  “I didn’t
want
to let you go.  Don’t make excuses for what I did.  I’ve played them through my own head thousands of times.  I’m sick to death of them.  Because none of them justify what I allowed to happen between us.  None of them justify my selfish decision to keep you.”

“I don’t regret what happened between us, Smith,” I said quietly.  “Please don’t say that you do.”

His brows drew together, and he shifted uncomfortably.  “Lydia, I…”

“Don’t say it.”  This time it was a desperate demand.  “You swore you wouldn’t lie to me.  So don’t you dare say you regret
it.”

He pursed his lips together, choosing to say nothing rather than admit aloud that he wouldn’t go back and change what he had done if he could.

“I wouldn’t have healed at all if it weren’t for you,” I continued in the wake of his silence.  “Everything I told you that day was true: that Bastard chose me because I liked pain.  I had only just begun exploring BDSM when he abducted me.  He took everything I had secretly desired for so long and twisted it until it became something foul and wrong.”

Fury flashed across Smith’s features at the mention of the man who had tortured me.  Bolstered by his response, I pressed on.  The Dom in him hadn’t been able to resist my plea for help on that day, hadn’t been able to resist rectifying the wrongs that had been perpetrated against me.  Appealing to that side of him would be the key to forcing him to understand just how much he had done for me.

“You helped me reclaim those desires.  Without you, I never would have been able to allow a man to touch me like that ever again.  That Bastard would have kept that part of me forever.  You helped me take it back from him.” 

I paused for a beat before making my next admission.  I wasn’t sure if he would approve of my enduring dependence on him.  But he had to know just how much he had done for me, how he had returned my sanity to me.

“Being with you that day…  You did more than return my sexuality to me.  I begged you as my Master to touch me, and you respected my wishes.  I didn’t ask for that out of a desire to please you; it was what
I
wanted.  You held me as a woman who desired to be touched, not as a slave you used to sate yourself.”  My lips quirked up in a wry smile.  “You gave me a dozen orgasms, for god’s sake.  And you only had one.  I can’t imagine anything more unselfish.”

He let out a low growl.  “This isn’t something to joke about.  This is serious, Lydia.”

“I’m being completely serious,” I said evenly.  “I was more empowered that day than I had been since I was taken.  Possibly more so than I had been in my entire life.  You showed me that my body, my desires, aren’t something to be ashamed of.  That they’re something beautiful.  You made
me
feel beautiful.”

My gaze was drawn to the scars around my wrists.


He
made me feel disgusting, like something that was less than human.  Like something that wasn’t worthy of humanity.”

Smith placed his fingers beneath my chin, lifting my face to his.  I didn’t even realize I was crying until he wiped the warm tears from my cheeks.  His touch was tender, but ire swirled in his eyes.

“You
are
beautiful, sweetheart.  In every way a person can be beautiful.  Why do you think I lost all control when it came to you?  My mind rationalized my actions because I couldn’t help myself.  You’re right: I don’t regret what happened.  I wanted you then, and I still want you now.”

“Then take me,” I whispered.  “Please, Master.  Please, Smith.”

He groaned softly.  “I can’t, Lydia.  You have to be free of me.  You’ll never recover if I don’t let you go.”

“I’ll never be free of you,” I declared fiercely. 
“Because I don’t want to be.  This is my choice, Smith.  I’m choosing you.  You can choose not to accept me, but that won’t change the way I feel.  I wouldn’t be sane right now if it weren’t for you.  The whole time I was going through therapy, when I was…  When I was re-living what was done to me.  Whenever everything became too much and I thought I couldn’t do it anymore, the thought of you kept me going.  Thinking of you made me feel safe.  I could put my fear aside because I trusted you to keep me safe.  I
do
trust you, Smith,” I amended.

“How can you possibly trust me?”  He asked, his expression torn between wonder and longing.  “I kept you from your life.  I kept you from your family. 
From your husband.  If I had known -”

“Don’t, Smith,” I said softly.  The mention of Tucker made my heart squeeze painfully.  A part of me felt wrong discussing our divorce with Smith in an effort to win his affections, but I had to convince Smith to stay with me.  If he went out to hunt that Bastard, he would end up dead, too.  I couldn’t let that happen.  I couldn’t survive that.

“I loved -”  I choked on the past tense.  “I will always love Tucker.  But our marriage was over a long time before I was abducted.  We had just agreed to divorce when…”  I shied away from the torturous memory of his terrified eyes.  “I was coming back to you, Smith.  Would you…  Would you have taken me back?”

“I don’t know, Lydia.  I don’t know what’s right anymore.”  He sounded exhausted.

I touched my fingers to his cheek, calling his full attention to me.

“I don’t care what’s right.  I just know what I want.  I’ve worried what other people think my whole adult life.  I’ve allowed my concern for their reactions to my choices to rule my
actions.  I have my life back now, Smith.  And I’m not wasting a single day of it.  I’m living for me now.  I don’t care what anyone else thinks.”

His lips parted slightly, and I was amazed to recognize awe, reverence, in his expression.

“You are the strongest woman I’ve ever known, Lydia.”

I gave him a small, slightly embarrassed smile; I didn’t know how to deal with such an overwhelming compliment.

“I wouldn’t be if it weren’t for you,” I insisted softly.  “I need you, Smith.  I need you, Master.  Please.”

“Fuck,” he breathed.

Then his fist tangled in my hair, tugging sharply so that my head dropped back, offering my lips up for his use.  His silver eyes burned down into mine.

“Are you still prepared to go to hell with me, Lydia?”  He asked roughly.

“Of course, Master,” I promised huskily.  “So long as you take me to heaven and back first.”

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