Stray (5 page)

“Very good. Now, go to the centre of the room.” He squared his shoulders, nodding in my direction. “I promise not to touch you until you’re ready.”

It isn’t the touching I’m worried about.
I swallowed and did as he had asked, stepping towards the middle of the room before facing him again. I locked my hands behind me and inclined my head.

“Was I not clear?” Dylan glared at me, his lips thin. “Remove your clothes.”

I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the heated skin on my back and the scars he’d find there. Taking a deep breath, I unbuttoned my blouse, letting it fall to the carpeting around my feet. I then unclasped my bra, adding it, along with my skirt and panties, to the pile. Once I had removed my sandals, I stood and awaited his next order.

“On your knees,” Dylan said, his voice short.

A tremor shot up my spine as I lowered myself to the ground. Resting on my knees, I kept my hands behind my back and bowed my head. I closed my eyes, tracking Dylan’s movements as his feet shuffled across the carpeting. Towards me. In front of me. He stood there until my breathing slowed, the awareness of his eyes burning my skin.

He lifted my chin, then ran a hand down my throat, tracing the veins on either side before continuing down to my breasts. My breath caught as he traced lazy circles around my nipples, and I moaned when he pulled at them.

“Like that?” he asked, keeping one hand on my skin as he moved to my left.

“Yes, Master.”

“Noted.” His footsteps stopped again, his lips brushing my left ear as his fingers circled around my clit. “Who do you belong to?”

“You.”

He touched my clit, harder now. “Tell me who you belong to.”

I struggled to talk around my delirium, swaying back and forth so as to not lose my balance. “You, Master. I belong to you.”

“Good girl.” He lifted his hand and glided it along the small of my back. “Are you proud to be my sub?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Then show it.” He pressed against my back, forcing me to straighten my posture. “I won’t have you slouching in my dungeon, understood?”

I spoke through my teeth. “Yes, Master.”

He leant forward to kiss my collarbone. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

I don’t know.
“No, Master.”
Please don’t look at my back.

He moved again, his hand never leaving my body, grounding me. My body tensed when he stopped behind me, then pulled my hair over one shoulder so he could see the back of my neck. My entire back.
Maybe he won’t notice. Maybe he’ll just think it was some fun. Maybe he’s done it before. Maybe—

He sucked in a breath and touched his fingers onto my skin. “Jesus Christ, Alyssa,” Dylan growled, circling around me. “When you said Anthony didn’t use aftercare, I didn’t expect…”

I bowed my head and shivered under his gaze. “Sorry, Master.”

His footsteps were hurried when he came around to face me, taking my face in his hands. “Don’t you ever apologise for what that fucking bastard did to you. This is unacceptable, for any Dom. It’s abuse.”

I cringed, the tone in his voice telling me he’d seen the deep welts and scars under the surface of my skin. Telling me it wasn’t normal. That it never should’ve happened.
Breathe, Alyssa. Remember to breathe.
Breathing didn’t help.

“Did he apply any kind of cream?”

I must’ve managed to shake my head, as his caress softened.

“Fuck. Please tell me you reported him.”

I lifted my gaze, staring into eyes I couldn’t recognise. A chill rushed over my spine as heat coloured my cheeks. “I…” Panic filled me, and I struggled for words. “He doesn’t live here anymore.” It didn’t matter. I’d got away.
Please, don’t tell him you know. Please, Master. Please.

“I don’t care where he is. I can tell the community in
his
area—warn them about him.” He took a ragged breath and drew arcs with his thumb on my cheek. “There are no words for what he’s done to you. I assure you, most Doms aren’t like that. Yes, we can and will cause pain, but not without consent, and only up until a point. What he did to you is abuse, pure and simple.” His eyes narrowed even more. “Tell. Me. Where. He. Is.”

I closed my eyes around the tears that threatened to fall. The old wounds along my back burned anew, and I bit my bottom lip.

“Alyssa, look at me.”

I screwed my eyes tight and hugged my knees, refusing to look at him. “I’m sorry, Master. I’m sorry. Please don’t shock me. Don’t make me shift. Please don’t…”

Tears burned my cheeks as my teeth chattered. I couldn’t control it. I couldn’t control his—Anthony’s—hold on me.

Dylan placed his hands on my arms. “You’re shaking.” He rubbed my arms, stopping when I flinched away. “Wait here.” His touch left me, returning moments later as he wrapped a robe around my shivering frame. “Inspection’s over.” His voice cracked at the end.

He cleared his throat and called up the steps. “Marnie, draw a bath. Quickly. Something’s wrong.” With his hand at the small of my back, Dylan helped me stand. He coiled an arm around my middle and led me from the room, carefully guiding me up the steps. “Don’t ever apologise for him. Not for your pains or your demons.”

Now I did open my eyes to look at him. His eyes softened when he looked back at me. “I’m not your Master. Not now. Not until I know you’re ready. You will make a lovely sub one day, but not until we tend to your wounds. No matter how visible they may be.”

“I’m sorry, I—”

He shook his head. “We’ll get there, I promise.” We climbed the stairs one at a time, and when my knees buckled, he took me in his arms. “I got you. Just don’t let go.” I draped my arms around his neck, and as we reached the top of the steps, Marnie was waiting for us. “Can you walk on your own?” Dylan asked as he set me down so I could test my legs. They wobbled, but I didn’t fall. He nodded to Marnie. “Take her upstairs. I need to make a call.”

Marnie supported me the best she could as there was about a three inch height difference between us. Tears crowded my vision, and I swallowed around the tension in my throat. I wanted to apologise, to tell him I was fine, that we could try again. But by the time I was able to gargle a response, Dylan was gone.

Chapter Five

Once I was clean and buried under more blankets than I cared to count, my mind began to wander. Marnie had bathed me and had coached me on my breathing the entire time Dylan had been gone. He’d appeared right as I’d been getting out of the tub, his expression more worn out than usual.

When our eyes had met, he’d shaken his head, either because he hadn’t wanted to discuss the call he’d made or because he’d felt I was better off not knowing. With his help, I’d managed to dry off, and settled down on his bed.

He rolled onto his back, his hand petting my hair as I rested my head on his chest. We lay there for a long, quiet moment, his heart skipping a few beats every now and again while mine tried to climb out of my throat.

The entire time Marnie had had me in the bath, I hadn’t been able to believe how stupid I’d been to react in such a way. Stupid to have let Anthony have control over me, even though we were hundreds of miles apart. Stupid to have thought I was ready for a Dom. For a new Master. For any of this.

I drew in a deep, shaky breath before letting it back out again. Dylan settled his hand behind my neck, tracing the scar he found there.

“Are you okay?” he asked, hugging me close to him with his other arm.

“Yes, Master,” I squeaked.

“No ‘Master’. I’m just me for now.” He moved the hand that had been behind my neck to brush some of the hair from my face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

I nodded. “I feel stupid now, though.”

“No reason to feel stupid at all.”

“But he still has control over me.”

“He has control over some part of you. You didn’t give him permission to do that, Alyssa. You have every right to take it back. You don’t need his permission.”

I wet my lips before looking up at him, the rise and fall of his chest lulling me into a trance. “I don’t know how to take it back.” I’d tried for over a year but had only managed to appear that I was in control. The flashbacks, the nightmares, the scars—they were still there.

“Then I’ll help you.”

I rested an arm across his stomach and closed my eyes. My breathing slowed even more as he caressed my cheek.

“Do you have anywhere you need to be tomorrow?” Dylan’s touch was constant, never leaving my skin, not even when he pulled back the covers to join me.

I shook my head. It was a Saturday, and if I needed to, I could take some time off.

“Stay here tonight.” Dylan’s insistence caught me off guard. “I don’t like the idea of you driving home like this. We don’t have to do anything, but you’re welcome to stay here as much as you like. Or, if you aren’t comfortable, I can drive you home.”

The idea of somehow making it out to my car seemed impossible right then. My knees shook just at the thought of it.

“I want to stay,” I said.

“Look at me.”

I did, and as I met his gaze, warm arousal overcame everything else I’d felt earlier. With his dishevelled hair, his weary eyes and shirtless chest, he looked almost normal. And if I hadn’t met him at a club earlier this evening, I probably never would’ve guessed he was a Dom.

“What?” He raised an eyebrow. “Something on my face?”

I smiled. “No. It’s just that…” I bit at the inside of my cheek. “You look normal—not like a Dom.”

He laughed at that. “What? You thought I’d wear a Dom outfit to bed?”

“No, but your eyes…”

He opened his mouth as if to say something but nodded instead. “I’m not always a control freak. Don’t get me wrong. I love having control in the bedroom, but only when I know my subs can enjoy it. And right now, control over you is the last thing I want.”

“You aren’t anything like—”

“Anthony?”

I winced at the name. “You’re nothing like the other Doms I’ve met.”

“Oh? And aside from the obvious, who else do you know?”

I bowed my head and bunched the blankets in my hands. Aside from Anthony and the few Doms he’d shared me with, I didn’t know anyone else. And Dylan was the only one I could remember from the few times Anthony had shared me.

“I see.” Dylan propped himself up on an elbow and faced me. “I don’t mean to pry, and tell me to fuck off if you want, but…what happened between you two? I didn’t really peg him as the type who would…” He shrugged.

“He wasn’t at first. When we were still in the area, he seemed normal. When he shared me with you, it wasn’t an act. He was careful back then.”

“Cautious, you mean.”

I bobbed my head.

“You know, I always wondered why he never went over the rules with me, or your safe words.” Dylan’s cheeks darkened. “I figured it was just a fantasy you two were playing out. I swear, if I’d known what he was doing, what he was going to do—”

“No one could’ve known. He didn’t start the… He didn’t start until we moved out of state.” I glanced down at Dylan’s collar, which suddenly felt too tight around my neck. My fingers trembled as I touched it, and moments later, Dylan removed it.

“Better?”

As soon as he’d taken it from me, I wanted it back. It signified his protection of me. That’s what he’d promised, but now he’d taken it away. He set the collar on the bedside table and turned over again to face me, his fingers barely touching the skin along my neck.

His eyes narrowed as he studied a mark above my windpipe. “How come I didn’t see this before?”

Because I covered it with gobs of makeup.

It was barely noticeable unless someone was looking for it. My splotchy skin was thanks to Anthony’s shock collar, and even though most of the voltage he’d used on me had been when I was a wolf, the marks still existed in my human form. They’d never heal.

“Alyssa?” Dylan lifted my chin with his hand. “Is this from a collar?”

I sucked in a lungful of air, and Dylan’s eyes darkened.

“Tell me what happened.”

I rolled onto my back and sat up, pulling my knees to my chest. Dylan sat up as well, then sat me in his lap and rocked me back and forth as I spoke.

“After we moved, Anthony found out I was a shifter. It must’ve slipped out one night. I guess I should be happy he wasn’t one himself, but—”

“Things would’ve ended up the same way,” Dylan finished for me. “I’ve seen some alphas who push their subs to fight in the rings, some of them without their consent.” He rubbed a hand over his forehead. “Kennels can be a godsend for shifters who have suppressed their wolf skin. It gives them a safe haven to lash out and expel that extra energy without bringing it into their human lives. I’ve used kennels in the past for some of my subs, but never without their permission, and never for self-gain.”

I nodded. “Anthony treated it like it was some kind of dog ring. Like I was just his pet.”

“No, not even pets should endure what you went through.”

“It wasn’t just the fighting, though. After he found out I was a shifter, he wanted me to stay in my wolf skin all the time.” I rubbed at the missing shock collar around my neck. “He designed a homemade shock collar with a lock I couldn’t remove. No one ever questioned it, even though the shock it gave was higher than the ones sold on the legal market. Anytime I shifted without his permission, he shocked me.”

“But it wasn’t just limited to the collar, was it?”

“No.” Dylan had already seen the scars on my back, scars that no flogger or cat-o’-nine-tails could ever have caused. Not with human force alone. “He’d lock me in a crate when he left the house. He kept a padlock on it. It was too small for me to turn around. Too small for me to lie down comfortably.”

“Fucking bastard.”

“If I lost a fight at the kennel, he’d increase my time inside the crate.”

“So he wasn’t a Dom at all, then. He was just into dog fighting?”

“Not exactly.”

The shifting and fighting hadn’t bothered me as much as what he’d done when I had still been human. He’d taken one half of my life away, but I still had the other part of me—the half I’d buried deep inside myself. Something I’d never thought he could touch. Something I’d never thought he would touch.