MasterofVelvet (17 page)

Her fingers still entwined with his, she tightened her grip
on his hands, teeth biting down on her lower lip to stop the tears flowing.

“Please, Mistress…Beth. I need this. It has to be you.”

He trusts you to do it for him. Don’t let him down.

She let go of his hands and straightened up. Looking down at
him, the entreaty in his eyes, the love she felt for him reminded her that it
was a living thing inside her, a part of her that would never leave, no matter
what. With great tenderness, she framed his face with her hands and kissed his
mouth. “I’ll need you to turn over.”

Beth adjusted her Master’s bonds so that he could lie
facedown, with pillows to make him both comfortable and more accessible.
Regardless of the current situation, he was still her Dom in the bedroom and
this was something he had asked her to do for him. She was aware of his eyes on
her as she removed her clothing.

“Beth…my beautiful Mistress. You’ll find what you need in
the bottom drawer over there.”

Her hands were shaking as she opened the drawer. There,
brand new and still in its packaging, was a strap-on dildo. Beth’s hand
tightened around it, hating it, hating that he’d prepared for this and at the
same time knowing she had to do it for Adam.

For Adam.

Feeling sick, she buckled it in place, her vaginal muscles
clenching around the shorter, thicker end that was supposed to be there for her
pleasure.
A means to an end.
She recited the phrase over and over,
brainwashing herself into accepting this for what it was.

A means to an end.

She slathered the longer, narrower protrusion with lube.

Adam was lying there so calmly, waiting for her to prepare
him. She joined him on the bed—the first thing she was going to do was kiss
him. For the sake of her own sanity, she had to believe that she was doing this
for love.

“Adam, I want you to know how much I love you. You mean
everything to me. Try to relax—I don’t want to hurt you.”

Adam could never tell Beth why he needed to step out of
reality and into the fantasy where he was her slave. Not all of it, anyway. She
helped him to sleep at night but she could never know the full story of why he
needed her to do this for him. Dan knew, as did the medics who’d treated his
body after the kidnapping, and the counselor he’d had no patience with, but no
one else. With Beth in his bed, he could cope with the memory, but now he
needed her to exorcise it completely.

If he was going to face death he needed closure—he needed to
replace that memory with one where the act was carried out with love, not
hatred. He could only replace it with Beth beside him—there was no one else he
could ever have trusted with this.

He hadn’t intended this to happen when he’d brought her to
their bedroom—he’d just wanted to be with her. But then, when she’d kissed his
back, kissed the scars left by wounds that had nothing to do with the IED
incident, a switch was flipped in his mind. He needed Beth to take the memories
away for good. It seemed like he’d always known that one day he’d ask this of
her and that day had finally arrived.

He watched her come closer. The pain and desolation in her
eyes were like razor-sharp knives through his heart, but she was doing it—for
him. That told him, as if he needed telling, just how deep her feelings for him
were. Her hand was gentle on his upper arm, stroking down to his wrist.

“Will you at least let me remove these?” She rested her hand
on the cuff.

He shook his head. Restraints were an integral part of the
memory he had to change—they had to be there. He felt her resignation.

Beth knelt beside him. She would have no way of knowing why
he’d asked her to do this but he saw in her eyes that she knew there was a
reason, rather than it just being some random idea. She began by touching his
hair, the back of his head and then her hands were caressing his shoulders and back,
the contact preceding the sweet, gentle kisses she dropped like blessings along
his spine—blessings that touched the soul she’d given back to him and gave him
hope for a future he’d never dared dream of.

He closed his eyes, recalling the destructive, harrowing
memory of what was, without doubt, a visit to the lowest reaches of hell. It
wasn’t Egyptian cotton under his cheek but dirt and gravel. It wasn’t Beth’s
subtle perfume he could smell but the foul stench of stale sweat, urine and
other human detritus. He was no longer lying on his bed at home but shackled to
stakes driven in the earth floor, stripped of his clothing, his dignity, his
humanity, choking on the gag they’d stuffed into his mouth, listening to what
his captors—who had no idea he could speak their language—were planning to do
to him. He remembered his fight not to be sick, the struggle against the rising
tide of nausea, the denial that screamed inside his head even as the rutting
began.

The mental walls were going up again, divorcing his mind,
his heart and his soul from what was happening to his body. His breathing
became shallow and rapid as the ruined walls of that godforsaken cellar in the
abandoned house loomed up around him…creating that filthy, claustrophobic
prison, where rough hands had tried and failed to shatter his will. It had
taken every ounce of strength he possessed to hold on to his sanity—even now,
it still terrified him to think of how close they’d come to breaking him, with
the pain, the humiliation…and the act that, even now, even as only a memory,
could still make him go cold with fear.

But no more. It was time to finally annihilate the
nightmare. It had no place in his life with Beth. He was in his own home, lying
on the big bed he shared with the woman he loved. It was her hands touching
him, touching him so gently, with love and care. Her warm, feminine perfume was
wrapping itself around him. He lay on sheets that were clean and white and
pure. Submitting to the act carried out with love was his choice—it wasn’t being
forced on him.

“Please, Adam, don’t make me do this to you.”

She was begging. In that moment he hated himself for asking
this of her but she was the only one who could do it. He needed her love.
“Mistress, I need you to fuck me. Please help me.”

He felt her lips on the back of his hand, then the gentle
splash of her tears. She was going to run, his greatest fear. But then he felt
her hands again, her touch tender as she stroked his back, working her way down
from his shoulders.

He couldn’t stop himself from tensing when she reached his
hips, knew that Beth had felt that reaction when she paused and waited for a
moment, her hands remaining in contact. Then she continued.

Bile burned his throat.
Fight—fight the memories…fight
them now
.

Beth was crying. Her tears were silent, rolling freely down
her pale cheeks. She could barely see to squeeze the lube onto her palm.

She wanted to stop, wanted it so much that it was tearing
her up inside. But this wasn’t about her, it was about him, the man lying so
trustingly in front of her. She had to do it for him. She didn’t understand
what was going on, couldn’t even begin to imagine what it was all about but she
knew one thing for certain—it was about something.

“I’m sorry.”

She barely whispered the words, knowing that even if he
heard them, he wouldn’t want them. She on the other hand needed them.

Her heart splintered when she heard his agonized moan at the
first touch of her lube-coated finger to his anus. It took all her nerve not to
snatch her hand away. His back arched for a moment and then he was pushing
against her. Beth applied more gel, and then knelt between his long, muscular
legs.

Her resolution almost failed at the first hint of
resistance. Although she’d applied lube to her fingers and his anus, the
sphincter tightened defensively, protecting that most private part of his
precious body. Not knowing what to do, she gently stroked the rosette, letting
her fingertip linger over the center, applying just a little more pressure
there, to encourage the relaxation this would need.

His whole body was shaking. She reached toward his broad
back, splayed her hand over as much of it as she could, hoping her touch would
reassure and calm him.

His hands were fists twisting in the bed linens. He couldn’t
possibly be enjoying this, so why was he putting both of them through it? She
looked at his face turned toward her, trying to get some idea of what was going
through his mind, only for it to get a thousand times worse when she saw tears
clinging to his eyelashes and the distant look in his beautiful eyes once more.

Every cell in her body screamed to release him and hold him
to her body, to give him the comfort that would take away whatever was causing
his pain but instead she concentrated on doing what he asked. The sooner it was
done, the sooner this would end.

Her fingers began to work in earnest, her touch more
insistent now. She murmured comforting words and felt him relax in response.

“Please, Mistress…may I ask you to talk to me?”

For a moment, Beth’s mind clutched at fresh air, trying to
find the more meaningful words that would give him the release he needed from
whatever dreadful place was holding him. But then a curious calm descended over
her. All she needed to do was enfold him in her love.

“Adam, you’re the only man I have ever taken into my heart
and to the depths of my soul. What I do now is done out of the love I have for
you.” She stroked his back, crooning softly to calm him. “For this moment,
you’re my sub, Adam—much loved, much cherished, much adored.”

Beth eased herself a little closer, working her fingers a
little more, and knew a moment of alarm when she heard his low moan. She realized
then that it was a moan of pleasure as he relaxed into the sensation.

Beth bit her lip, trying to ignore the tide of longing that
was rising within her. She allowed her hand to trail down to his behind, the
muscles firm beneath her touch. At that moment, her inhibitions broke down.

“Do you know how beautiful you are, Adam? How desirable? I
can’t imagine having a day in my life when I don’t want you. And I want you so
very, very much. I didn’t realize it but it’s been that way for all the time
I’ve known you. I think that’s why I’ve never been involved, never wanted to be
involved, with any other man since the day we met.”

Beth didn’t know if she was doing right or wrong but her
instincts were screaming at her to show the man she loved how close to him she
wanted to be. She leaned forward, and began to slide the lubricated dildo
between the cheeks of his backside. The motion seemed to relax him even further
and then, in one smooth movement, she eased the tip into place and began to
rock her hips against him.

“You’re mine, Adam,” she whispered against his back. “I own
you. You belong to me. While there’s breath in my body, no one else will have
you.”

“Yes, Mistress. I belong to you.”

Something wonderful, something awe-inspiring overwhelmed
Beth in that instant. She felt Adam surrender to her wholly and completely,
giving everything that he was to her. In return she could do nothing other than
give him what he so craved.

She felt the agony of wanting that vibrated through him. How
she adored this gorgeous, wonderful man for his strength, his integrity, all
the qualities that made him the person he was.

Instinct took over, guiding her movements as she made love
to Adam in a way she’d never made love to any other man. Somehow she managed to
reach underneath him and found his cock, rock-hard under his taut belly, steel
sheathed in velvet, leaving her with no illusions as to how aroused he was.

The heels of his hands were thrusting into the bed, forcing
his upper body upright. Beth knew a moment’s alarm then remembered that she was
able to make him relax. She laid a gentle hand on his shoulder, the soothing touch
enough to persuade him to resume his position.

Beth shifted around, enabling her to take a firmer hold of
his rigid shaft. Her concentration was on his pleasure, not hers, and from his
reactions, it was clear that he was receiving what he needed.

“Please, Mistress. May I come?”

His voice was strained with the effort of control, it was
tempting to deny him his release, but she couldn’t. She could deny this man
nothing, especially if it meant that he could finally attain the peace he needed—the
peace he deserved. “You may, Adam.”

She held him through the most violent orgasm she had ever
witnessed and when it was done, she flung the strap-on away from both of them
and almost tore the bonds from his wrists and ankles, pushing the shackles,
bars and chains away from him as if they were poison. Her eyes stung with
unshed tears when she moved beside him, wrapping her arms around him to pull
him close.

He was saying something. Beth froze, struggling to hear what
it was and then she realized he was thanking her.

It was then that she felt his tears on her skin and she came
crashing back down to earth. Dear God, what had she done?

“It’s all right, Adam, I’ve got you,” she comforted him,
pushing aside the confusion of her reaction. “You’re safe with me. I’ll only be
a moment.”

She returned from the playroom with a bottle of water, wet
wipes and a soft, warm towel. With great care, she cleansed his body, her touch
as gentle as she could make it. He didn’t move at all, just let her do what she
needed to do. And when the job was done, she made him drink the water, lay down
beside him and took him in her arms again.

Beth waited until he fell asleep. Once she was sure that he
wouldn’t wake, she very carefully moved away from him, found some blankets and
tucked them around him—hating herself for what she’d done to him. She should
have had more strength. She should have refused to do what he asked.

How could she have done this to the man she professed to
love? How on earth was she going to face him after that?

How could she face herself?

* * * * *

Adam knew before he even opened his eyes that Beth was gone.

He watched his hand move to the place where she should have
been, watched the fingers clench the sheet. His selfishness had driven her
away. He should never have given in to his weakness.

He’d lived with it for more than ten years, for Christ’s
sake. He could have lived with it for ten more—twenty more, for the rest of his
life if it meant keeping hold of Beth. Was trying to banish the hell that
crouched at the back of his mind worth putting her through all of that?

She must have put the blankets over him before she left but
he had no way of knowing whether that was five minutes or an hour ago. It was
dark outside, but that told him nothing. He needed to find Beth, but first he
needed to freshen up.

Ten minutes later, showered and dressed casually in jeans
and a polo shirt, Adam went in search of his woman. The house was eerily quiet
and not knowing Beth’s location was adding to the anxiety gnawing at him.

He found her in the family room, curled up in an armchair,
reading a book in the light cast by the freestanding lamp. The curtains were
closed, adding to the air of cozy comfort. For a few moments Adam just stood
quietly in the hall, looking at her, letting his gaze absorb every inch of the
beautiful picture she made. His heart ached with the force of his love for her.

“Beth.”

She looked up at the sound of her name, her expression
portraying neither love nor hate. She had, however, been crying. He’d done that
to her. He opened his mouth to speak—and realized there was nothing he could
say to her. He turned on his heel and strode off, determined to distance
himself from Beth as much as he could until he knew what he could say to her.

After making sure that Adam was warm and safe, Beth had
tidied herself up, gone down to one of her favorite rooms in the house, and
made herself comfortable with a book. She’d been pretending to read for a
couple of hours, unable to concentrate for thinking about Adam. She hadn’t
dared to return to the bedroom for fear of finding him awake and not knowing
what to say to him.

She had no way of knowing how long he’d been standing there
watching her. When she looked up at him, he looked as if he were about to say
something but instead had just stalked away. In those brief seconds, she’d felt
her heart leap at the sight of him, looking so strong and vital and
devastatingly handsome. Then he was gone and all she got from him was a sense
of a barrier going up between them. She was torn between wanting to go after
him and leaving him to find his own way back to her.

Why did relationships have to be so damn difficult?

The sound of the doorbell was a welcome distraction. For a
while she’d forgotten that Dan was coming back and that she’d promised him a
steak dinner. If Adam had gone off to lick his wounds somewhere, then it was up
to her to play the gracious hostess in his absence. She smiled. With Dan that
wouldn’t exactly be a chore.

“Hi, angel,” he greeted her when she let him in and he went
to plant a brotherly kiss on her cheek. “You okay?”

“Of course I am,” she responded, aware that her voice was
strained. “Come on in. I’d tell you to make yourself at home but you already do
anyway.” She smiled, finding a little comfort in the presence of the big blond
Dom. At least there wouldn’t be any awkward silences while he was around.

Adam reappeared a few minutes after his friend arrived. Beth
left the two men talking while she went to prepare dinner, finding the kitchen
a sanctuary after such a difficult afternoon. She put her best effort into
trying not to work out what was going through Adam’s mind for him to have made
her do that to him but the hardest thing to try to blank out of her mind was
his tears. When the memory surfaced—and it did many times—she found herself
crying for him. And she didn’t even have the excuse of chopping onions to
explain the tears. She was just thankful there was no one there to whom she had
to explain.

Dinner was civil enough and afterward, all three of them
adjourned to the family room. Beth made sure that she chose an armchair rather
than one of the sofas. She needed to keep her distance from Adam. It didn’t go
unnoticed by either of the men though they said nothing.

Her contribution to the conversation was minimal to say the
least. Beth was painfully aware of Dan’s attempts to include her but in the end
she decided that it wasn’t fair to him—not only that she couldn’t stand the
strain of trying and clearly failing to appear as if everything were normal.

* * * * *

“If you’ll excuse me I think I’ll go to bed.”

The two men watched Beth leave the room—then Dan turned to
his friend and said, with a distinctly unfriendly edge to his voice, “Okay,
what have you done to her now?”

Adam’s face betrayed nothing. “She’s had a long day. She’s
tired.”

“She was fine before I left. As soon as I got back I could
see the difference in her. She looks lost. Have you dumped her?”

Adam remained silent for a few moments. “I haven’t dumped
her,” he stated quietly.

“Then what the fucking bloody hell have you done?”

Dan’s hands formed into fists. He and Adam were old friends—in
some ways closer than brothers—but he was ready to beat the crap out of the
other man if he’d done something to hurt that woman. “You made her do something
she didn’t want to do, didn’t you? What did you do to her, for God’s sake?”

Adam’s silence spoke volumes. “Not to her.” His voice was as
bleak as his eyes. “I asked her to do it to me.”

Dan swore viciously. “Asked implies that you gave her the
opportunity to refuse. I’d stake everything I own that you gave her no choice,
so what the fucking hell—” He broke off what he was about to say, closing his
eyes as an answer—
the
answer—occurred to him. When he spoke again his
voice was a lot calmer. “Christ, Adam, I’m sorry—”

“Not as sorry as I am,” the other man admitted quietly.
“She’s hurting and it’s all my fault.”

“I’m not going to ask what happened—that’s between the two
of you—but did you at least tell her why?”

Adam’s defenses went up. “No,” he said curtly. “How could I
tell her about that?”

Dan took a deep breath. He hated talking about what happened
to his friend even though it was more than a decade after the event. He’d seen
what they’d done to Adam, supported him on the long walk to the helicopter that
had taken him to the hospital and had sat with him while he was treated for his
appalling injuries.