DutyBoundARe (10 page)

“How does it feel now?” He retrieved two more bundles of rope while she fought to find words.

“Like a hug.” Her voice cracked again, sounding so small and broken. After what she’d been through, a hug was good.

“Anything hurting you?” He tucked her hair behind her ear and cupped her face.

She shook her head and sniffled.

This was the hardest part for him. Lisette was a strong woman, ready to push through so much of her pain and suffering, but what she needed now was safety. A moment in time to own the hurt and wrong done to her, and be safe. If she needed to cry, he’d let her, and hate every fucking tear she shed.

He put his own emotions aside, and focused on her. He tied off ropes on either hip, as part of the harness, and began binding her legs together in a cage. He slid his hands over her body, savoring the contact, offering her what comfort he could.

When he’d begun, putting her into a harness and maybe playing with some of the floggers had seemed like a good way to pass an afternoon. But she didn’t need any more sensation. There was enough going on inside her.

He grabbed several of the cushions off the couch and tossed them on the floor in a makeshift pallet. Without warning her, he grasped the ropes and pulled her sideways, controlling her fall by sheer strength until she lay on her side, torso slightly twisted so she lay more on her back than side.

The little tail of rope hanging between her breasts was the last bit of unused rope. He grasped the rope at her knees and brought them up, fastening the rope there, holding her in a fetal position.

Lisette sniffled and the first fat drops fell onto her cheeks.

It broke the heart he wasn’t sure he had any longer.

He pulled the last cushions off the couch and folded himself in behind her, pulling the afghan over them. Her body shuddered with tears.

How long had it been since she’d been safe enough to feel? To cry? To mourn the innocence she’d lost?

As much as he hated to see her cry, he was blessed by her tears. Here, in his shabby little apartment, she’d found the safety she needed to start to mend.

Mathieu hugged her close and blew out a breath.

chapter Seven

Marks

Lisette emerged from the shower and grabbed a towel from the rack. She buried her face in it, inhaling the scent of Mathieu’s soap and detergent. The herbal soap, if she had to guess, was homemade by his grandmother. She could only imagine what went into it. She wiped away the last traces of tears and toweled off the rest of her.

Rope marks still hugged her arms, legs and chest. She ran her fingers over them, taking comfort in the tactile memory of those moments. Logically, she’d known she could only push down all the hurt and waterworks for so long, but the torrent of emotions, the tears, the sobbing had taken her all at once within the safety of Mathieu’s ropes. It hadn’t scared her. Much the opposite. He’d given her an outlet, a way to surrender herself to the bottled up emotions that didn’t make her feel as if Seth was winning. He’d allowed her to express herself in a way that was healthy and cathartic.

There was a huge, empty space in her chest where the knot of toxic fear and anguish had tied her up inside. She felt lighter, a little raw around the edges, but it was a relief.

Maybe now she could really begin to heal. She’d taken bits and pieces of herself back, but now she was free. Really and truly free of Seth.

She wiped off the bathroom mirror and stared at her reflection. There were a few more scars on her body and heart, a little baggage, but Seth was not keeping her down. He was not going to continue to hurt her.

Her mental rallying accomplished, Lisette pulled on her last pair of clean yoga pants and a t-shirt. The grand total of her wardrobe was a pair of jeans, two pairs of yoga pants, some shorts and six t-shirts and tank tops. The rest of her possessions were probably gone. She’d stashed some in storage, left some behind in Chicago. It was only stuff, but she’d grown comfortable in her lifestyle. She’d never really appreciated it before, but now she did.

She gathered her discarded panties and the afghan she’d wrapped herself in after Mathieu had held her through the worst of her tears and exited the bathroom via the bedroom door. The rectangle of light from the bathroom cast across the bed and a pair of legs laying on top of the comforter. Gator lifted his head and yawned from his place sprawled at the foot of the mattress.

“Sorry,” she whispered and flipped the light off.

“It’s okay,” Mathieu mumbled.

Lisette tossed her panties into the pile of her belongings, cringing at the idea she’d disturbed her host.

Mathieu muttered something into the pillow.

“I’m sorry?” Lisette kept her voice pitched low.

“I said come here.” He patted the space next to him.

She froze. Curling up next to him was everything she wanted. He’d changed into a man. He wasn’t the boy she’d fallen for, but there was enough there that it was all too easy to imagine herself tumbling head over heels for him again.

Would it be so bad to take some of his comfort? Just for now?

She laid the afghan on the foot of the bed and gave Gator a little scratch on the head.

What was a little heartache later on? It would give her something else to blog about in the coming months.

Lisette crawled onto the bed and lay on her side, facing him. Mathieu sprawled, partially on his stomach, face in the pillows. He flung out his arm, wrapping it around her waist and tugging her closer. She scooted over a bit, and he pulled more until she was perfectly in line with him, tucked in close.

Her heart hammered in her chest. There was no denying that he turned her on, that her panties were growing damp, and not because she’d just showered. She’d had boyfriends who were also her Dominants before, and the sex following an emotional scene was—the best. But Mathieu had stated no sex.

She licked her lips and closed her eyes, willing her breathing to even out, to find consolation in being held.

A chime sounded from the nightstand on the other side of the bed. Mathieu groaned and reached for the source blindly. He pulled his phone over and glared at it with one eye.

“Work?” she asked.

“Nah, my old partner wants to have dinner.”

“Oh.” She was just getting comfortable with the idea of being cuddled together in bed. She wasn’t ready for him to leave. Though if he did she could do some more blogging, maybe get caught up on email. Neither was as appealing as his strong arms wrapped around her.

“I’m not getting out again today.” He punched the keys hard enough they clicked in her ear.

She turned her face into the pillows and smiled. A quiet evening at home with him? It sounded like heaven. Even if this wasn’t her home and all they were was friends.

“How are you doing?” He tossed the phone behind her on the mattress and settled his hand on the small of her back.

“Good.” In all flavors of the word. “I like the rope marks.”

He chuckled. “I think you have the makings of a rope bunny in you.”

She could understand the appeal of rope. Though she’d felt their scene was more like a hug, wrapping her from head to toe in safety, she could also imagine a rough scene, struggling against the bonds, fighting her Top. The rope burns were a sensory play all their own.

“I could get used to playing with rope.” Especially if he were involved.

“Yeah, I bet you could.”

“Does it make you happy to do rope again?” It might appear as though all play was for the bottom’s benefit, but Tops got something out of it too. She understood the appeal from a professional standpoint, but doubted she’d ever grasp it on an elemental level. She was too much the submissive at heart.

“It does. I’d started to think I wouldn’t get back into it again. Maybe give all my gear to old friends, hang it up, but maybe not now.”

It made her happy that she could give Mathieu something back for all he was giving her. Though she hated the idea of some other woman taking her place and finding pleasure in his arms, that time would come. Unless something changed. And from where she lay, it didn’t seem likely. He held onto whatever his ex had done to him with both hands. For now, she’d enjoy the comfort of his arms.

“Have you thought any more about contacting your family?” he asked.

An icy hand gripped her heart and cooled the warmth she’d felt post-play.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“You don’t understand.” She tried to roll away from him, but he held her fast.

“Explain it to me again,
bebelle
.” His breath whispered over her neck.

When he used that word, it melted her a bit more.

“When Seth and I broke up, before he hurt me the first time, he called my parents and begged them to talk to me. He was everything they thought I should marry. They’ve never expected anything from me. It’s pretty frustrating to know your parents only ever expect for you to marry well and pop out babies. What is this? The eighteen hundreds?” She sighed and shoved down her frustration. “Later, he told them more about me. About the kink, to try to manipulate me into going back to him. It was awful. My parents didn’t understand. They never did. But after, it was worse. They don’t talk to me at all now. Not my parents, my sister, or brother.”

It hurt, but she’d never been close to her immediate family. She was an odd duck.

“Did you explain it to them? Maybe say he was lying?”

“Does your family know about your kink?”

Mathieu shifted slightly. “Lola suspects. She might know, but doesn’t ask. The rest, I doubt.”

“I bet your grandmère does.”

“She might.” He laughed. “It’s just. . .I can’t imagine your family not being there for you.”

Guilt twisted inside of her. After the last conversation with her parents, Lisette hadn’t tried any more. That much was on her. “To be honest, I don’t think they know everything. I stopped trying with them when things got crazy. I could only deal with so much, and their rejection was rough enough on its own.”

“I’m sorry.”

She shrugged. What else was there to say?

“Don’t you think they’re worried about you?” Mathieu had a wonderful family. She’d met them a few times, all for a brief handful of minutes, but she’d liked them. They were loving, funny, and too easy to fall for. A family like that was one of her greatest desires. To laugh and love, that was what she wanted.

Lisette shrugged. Deep down, she wished someday her family would understand her. That her parents might find a little pride in what she’d accomplished for herself before Seth went and screwed it all up. But the reality of their relationship was a different story.

“Do you want them in your life?” He just kept pressing it. She’d found that family-like affection from the kink community, and flourished.

“My family is different from yours, and I’m not talking skin color or anything,” Lisette said. “Would I like what you have? Yeah. But I don’t think they’re that kind of people.”

“Come on, they can’t be that bad.”

“You don’t get it.” He’d met her family all of once, and they’d barely had the chance to say hello. Their view of family was different. To him, family was all that was good. To her, family was what she chose.

“No, I don’t understand it, but I do see it all the time on the job.” He kissed her forehead and sighed. “Even your brother and sister?”

“Juliette? She’s the biggest snob I know. Lafayette? Maybe. He’s always been the typical wild child of the family, but we’ve never really had a relationship.”

“Why don’t you try? Maybe the wild child would understand you.”

Did she want that? Would her family ever welcome her back? Was trying even in her scope of ability now? The last she’d heard about her brother, he’d finished college. Finally. While she’d also taken several years to finish her degree, it was due to money. Lafayette was bankrolled by dear old Mom and Dad. Did she even have his number? But there was another side to all of this. A dangerous, potentially threatening possibility. The words slipped through her fingers. She bit her lip.

“What’s going on in there?” Mathieu asked after a few moments’ silence.

“If I call Leo, what if Seth finds out?” There. She said it.

“Would he have to know where you were?”

“I guess not. Why is this so important to you?”

“You have a family. A good one. I want you to be free. Happy.”

“Does that have to include my parents and siblings?” She’d replaced them in Miami with a chosen family, not people connected by blood. But had they ever really filled that hole?

“That’s up to you. I just hate to see you cut off. When I’m the best connection you have, that’s a rough place to be.”

“Fine. I’ll see if I have Leo’s number somewhere. Maybe in my email.” She rolled away from him and swung her legs off the bed.

“Now?”

“If I don’t do this now I won’t do it at all.” She glanced over her shoulder at Mathieu propped up on his elbow. The gris-gris still hung around his neck. A physical reminder that his family thought about him each and every day.

Contrary to the way gris-gris were used in popular media, the pouches were not voodoo curses, though they could be. The gris-gris was actually an amulet, or a charm of protection for the wearer. She didn’t know what Mathieu’s was made of or what it contained, but it was clear how much he was cared for.

“Go on then,” he said.

Lisette pulled her laptop out of her backpack stashed in the corner with the rest of her things and brought both it and her cell phone back to the bed. Mathieu propped pillows up for her against the headboard and she settled in, booting up the machine. It only took a few moments to access her email program and search the saved emails. The last messages she’d traded with her brother were all from right after she bought the laptop, which was at least a year or more ago, but there was one with his new number in it, marked important.

There was a chance she’d saved it in her old phone, but after she’d cracked the screen out with Seth one night, she’d gotten a new one. Her information hadn’t transferred over at all, and she’d lost a lot of her old contacts despite Seth spending hours trying to tweak the damn thing.