Trust (51 page)

I separated us enough so that I could lift her into my arms. Once I was sure I had a solid hold on her, I swung my legs off the bed and stood.

Brianna’s only response was to turn her head into my chest and hum. Her arms hung limp, with one dangling down toward the ground. I wasn’t even sure she was conscious of anything besides me. The only reason I knew she was aware of my presence was by the way she leaned into me and smiled. Placing a soft kiss on her temple, I carried her into the bathroom.

Although it took some maneuvering, I kept her on my lap as I leaned over and turned on the water for the tub. Brianna needed some aftercare, and she needed to get cleaned up. This would kill two birds with one stone.

Once the water was ready, I sat her down in the tub. Again, it took some effort on my part. Brianna wasn’t difficult for me to carry if I were walking from one room to the next, but sitting her down in a bathtub was a little more challenging, especially without much assistance from her.

Somehow I managed and then stepped in behind her. I eased myself down until my back was against the hard edge of the tub. Pulling Brianna back against my chest, I wrapped my arms around her and began massaging her wrist with my fingers.

She tilted her head back and slowly opened her eyes.

I smiled and brushed my mouth against hers. “How do you feel?”

Brianna blinked several times as if the sound of my voice was bringing her out of the fog she was in. “I feel . . . rubbery.”

I chuckled. “Rubbery?”

She nodded and sighed as she leaned her head back against me. “Like my bones are made of rubber.”

“Ah.” I rested my cheek against her head as I continued to work my way up her arm.

When I reached her elbow, I lowered her arm back into the water and started working on the other one. Aftercare was extremely important, especially if a submissive went into subspace, which I was fairly certain had happened to Brianna. I wanted to make sure she came down slowly and that she felt loved and taken care of. This was an important part of play, and one I’d always enjoyed to a certain extent. I had to admit, though, it was different with Brianna, as so many other things were. With Sarah and Tami it had felt more like part of my job—my responsibility as a Dom. Working out any knots or tension in Brianna’s arms and shoulders was an extension of my showing her how I felt about her.

Positive I’d taken care of any stiffness she might have after being tied to the bed, I took my time washing her. Brianna sighed as I ran the loofah over her body. She even moaned a few times as I brushed it over her nipples. They remained extremely sensitive and probably would for the rest of the day. I was looking forward to that.

Eventually the water started to turn cold, and we had to get out. Once we were both dried off, I wrapped her in a robe and threw on a pair of boxers before leading her into the kitchen. It was almost four, and neither one of us had eaten anything since breakfast.

Brianna and I spent the next hour curled up in the living room eating leftovers. The last thing I’d wanted to do was waste time cooking.

I broke off a piece of cookie and fed it to her. “Brianna, we need to talk about this afternoon. Are you up for that?”

She swallowed and nodded.

“What did you think of being tied up?”

Brianna rested her head on my shoulder. “It wasn’t what I expected. I thought . . . I thought I’d feel trapped.”

“But you didn’t?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I felt . . . safe. Like I do when you hold my wrists down.”

I brushed my lips against her forehead. “I’m glad you felt safe. I always want you to feel safe with me, Brianna.”

She ran her nose up the side of my neck, and a shiver ran down my spine. Brianna had no idea the power she held over me sexually. When she figured it out, I would be in trouble.

Taking a deep breath, I continued. “What about the fur glove?”

I felt her lips curve up into a smile. “I liked the glove.”

“How about the nipple clamps?”

Brianna didn’t answer me right away, but I waited, giving her time to gather her thoughts. “They hurt, but . . . but they felt good, too?”

It wasn’t all that surprising that she was confused. Given her view of pain, it was going to take a while for her to reconcile the difference between good pain and bad pain in her mind. “Do you remember how we talked about how you like it when I pull your hair?”

She nodded.

“It’s the same thing, sweetheart, and it’s okay that you enjoy it. What we do together is completely different than what was done to you before.”

Brianna placed her hand over my heart and then lowered it to begin rubbing her fingers over my nipple. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. We needed to get through this conversation, but if she kept that up, I’d be cutting it short.

Reaching for her hand, I lifted it to my lips and kissed the inside of her palm before placing it safely back in her lap. “Do you see the difference, Brianna?”

“I don’t know.”

“What’s confusing you?”

She began to raise her hand again, but this time I caught it and laced our fingers together. “You had me tied up. I couldn’t . . . I couldn’t stop you.”

“Yes, you could have. You could have said your safeword, and I would have stopped. You know that, or else you would have panicked.”

“I know it’s different, but I don’t understand. I don’t.” I felt the moisture against my shoulder before I heard the first sob leave her throat. Brianna had come so far, but she was still struggling. I knew she would for a while.

Setting the rest of our food down on the coffee table, I reached for a throw blanket and wrapped it around the two of us. Holding her close, I let her get it out of her system. I suspected some of her emotional state was an aftereffect of subspace, but I knew that was only part of it.

The sun had long set before I took her back into the bedroom. Brianna had stopped crying, but she refused to let me go very far. We took turns in the bathroom, but I saw her struggle with whether or not to allow me to leave her sight. She still had reactions to hearing me urinate even after all this time, so she ended up sitting on the edge of my bed waiting for me. I could see the relief in her eyes when I reemerged and joined her. I took her by the hand, and led her over to the side of the bed. It was early, but I could think of no better way to spend the rest of our evening together. I gathered her into my arms, and she curled up against my chest.

“I don’t like being scared,” she whispered.

I rubbed a hand up and down her arm and rested my chin against the top of her head. “I know you don’t.”

She was quiet for a long time. “I hate him.”

My heart skipped a beat. “Who do you hate?”

“Ian.” Her voice as she said his name was soft, yet hard. I heard both her fear and her resolve.

What could I say to that? I hated the man, too. Him and every other man who’d hurt her—used her. If I had my way, I’d castrate every last one of them.

“My mom said I shouldn’t hate anyone, but I hate him.”

I ran my fingers through her hair, hoping to relax the tension I felt building in her body. “I think in this instance, it’s perfectly okay for you to hate him. I think your mom would understand.”

Brianna slid her hand up my chest until it was around my neck. She buried her head in the hollow above my shoulder, and I felt her shudder.

She cried for over an hour before falling into a fitful sleep. It hadn’t been the Christmas evening I’d pictured, but it was what she needed. The trial was less than two months away. She was going to have to stand up and testify against the man who had done things to her no human being should ever be subjected to. Brianna had every right to hate Ian Pierce. I was sure there was a very special place for men like him in hell.

Brianna

Stephan surprised me the next morning by announcing he wouldn’t be working for the rest of the week. The foundation closed between Christmas and New Year’s, and the conference call on Christmas Eve was the last obligation he had until after the New Year. I was beyond excited.

We ended up spending most of the week at a cabin about three hours outside the city. Stephan said he wanted to get away from everything for a while, that we needed the alone time. I completely agreed with him. It seemed as if so many things were bombarding us lately, between his work, the reporters who always tried to follow his car, to the upcoming trial . . . even my therapy with Dr. Perkins. All of it cut into our time together. It was nice to leave it all behind—even if it was only for a week.

On New Year’s Eve, Stephan turned on the small television in the cabin, and we curled up on the couch to watch the ball drop in New York City. It was the start of a new year. For many, it marked a new chapter in their lives. My new chapter, however, had begun eight months before, when I’d been summoned to Ian’s study.

I was in my room, or what passed as my room, when Alex came to get me. The sound of the lock turning made my blood run cold. “Master wants to see you, slave.”

Alex released the cuff from around my ankle, led me down the long hallway, and we descended the single flight of stairs. When we reached the main floor, I heard voices coming from Ian’s study. I braced myself. I knew what was coming next. Ian had a friend over. The only reason he would be calling for me would be to service his friend. He didn’t share Alex often. Alex was his. I was his, too, but only in that I belonged to him . . . that I was his property. Alex was shown affection. I was not.

Knowing from experience that it was best to comply with whatever was about to happen, I obediently entered the room with my head down. I listened to the men talk, and then the stranger took hold of my chin and brought my head up. Averting my eyes, I made sure not to look directly at him. I’d made that mistake before.

The man’s hands were hard and commanding. I held my breath waiting to see what he would do to me next.

Who would have known that less than an hour later, my life would change forever.

“Are you all right, sweetheart?”

I twisted my head so I could see him. Smiling, I ran my hand over the side of his face.
All mine.
“Happy New Year.”

He smiled and kissed me. “Happy New Year.”

Stephan kissed me again, and it wasn’t long after that our clothes were discarded and flung into a pile on the floor. The television played on in the background, but we didn’t pay much attention to it. All thought of anything happening outside our tiny space ceased to exist. The only thing that mattered was him pressing me down into the couch as he took me. This was how sex was supposed to be.

Sadly, we had to drive back into the city on New Year’s Day. Stephan had to return to work the next day. Life outside the two of us went on, and we couldn’t hide from it any longer.

As things returned to normal in our schedules, I began thinking more about John. I hadn’t forgotten my father’s request. Questions as to why continued to plague me—so much so that I decided to bring it up in my next session with Dr. Perkins. “I think I might want to go see John.”

“Your father?”

“Yes.”

Dr. Perkins nodded and wrote something down on her pad. “Why do you ‘think’ you ‘might’
want to go see him?”

“He wants to see me.” I paused. “And I’m curious.”

“Completely understandable. He’s your only living relative, isn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“Only you know what’s best for you. Don’t feel like you have any obligation to him or anyone else. You said you ‘might’ want to go see him. What’s stopping you?”

“Stephan doesn’t want me to. And I don’t know if I should. The last time I saw him, he tried to kidnap me.”

“Is Stephan preventing you from going?”

I looked up at her, confused. “No. He told me he didn’t want me to go, but that if I did, I should go because I wanted to, not because it was something John wanted.”

“And do you want to?”

“I don’t know what he wants from me.”

Dr. Perkins sat forward. “That doesn’t answer my question, Anna. What do
you
want? Only you can answer that. Seeing him might give you some closure, though.”

“I don’t understand.”

She cocked her head to the side. “What don’t you understand?”

“Why? Why did he do it? Why didn’t he look for me? How could he just leave me there?”

Tears fell freely down my cheeks. Dr. Perkins handed me a tissue and waited until I was no longer sobbing. “I can’t answer that for you, Anna. I’m sorry. And if you decide to meet with him, you need to accept the possibility that he might not be able to either.”

I nodded and glanced down at the damp tissue I held between my fingers. There was only one person who might be able to answer my questions. I knew that. Even then, the thought of seeing my father again filled me with dread and panic. Still, I knew what I had to do.

When Cal pulled into one of the guest spots in the parking garage at Stephan’s building, he turned off the car and started to get out until he realized I hadn’t moved.

“Is something wrong, Anna?” Cal’s voice startled me, and I turned to look at him.