The Dollhouse (20 page)

I nodded and made a sound against the ball gag that was as close to sounding like
yes
as I could muster.

"Since this your first time, I won't expect you to wear them for very long." His finger traced the curve of one breast, making me shiver. "The clamps will feel like an intense pressure."

I forced myself to remain still as he pinched my nipples, hardening them into tight peaks in preparation for the clamps. I had quickly learned with Julian that there was a very thin line between anticipation and fear.

"Are the restraints loose enough for you to rap your knuckles on the headboard?"

I experimentally reached up with one hand and had just enough give to beat against the wood with my knuckles.

"Good. If the clamps become too much for you to bear, that is how you will alert me to your desire to have them removed." His hands pulled away from my skin and he reached for the metal chain. "I will be disappointed if you cannot continue, but I will always place your physical safety first. You submit of your own free will."

I nodded as much as the restraints would allow, as tears burned behind my eyes. Why did he have to remind me at every turn that I had done this to myself?

His hands moved slowly as if he feared startling me. The metal felt cold and alien against my skin as he pressed the metal device over one nipple and then the other.

The pressure was even more intense than what he had described, and much closer to excruciating pain than anything I was comfortable with.

And then he began to tighten the clamps. Pain shot through me, bright and terrible like a lightning strike on dry kindling. It burned like fire and stung, hurting more desperately than anything else we'd done together.

"Remember to breathe," he coached me softly. "I'm very pleased with you."

I moaned against the gag, clenching and unclenching my hands against the restraints at my wrists. The pain was nearly overwhelming. A battle raged inside of me because I knew that I could end it if I wanted to.

Except it wasn't pain without purpose. I was bearing it for him.

Because I would do anything that he asked of me.

The chain draped between my breasts, a line of cold against my skin. His fingers slid gently up my abdomen and stroked the chain. My nostrils flared in alarm as I realized what he was about to do.

Julian gripped the chain and gently pulled on it, but the small movement was enough to create an intense, burning pain that overwhelmed me so completely that I nearly lost consciousness. I screamed against the gag because it was the only thing that I could do.

The clamps had choppy teeth that pressed down on each side of my nipple, digging into the tender skin. The pain was so intense — so all-consuming — that I imagined the skin would be completely torn off. That my reward for his play would be mutilation.

But I trusted him — didn't I? — trusted him enough to do me no real harm.

"Yes," he whispered into my ear, pressing open-mouth kisses down my cheek before nuzzling into my neck. His hands continued to play at the chain, sending tendrils of sharp pain shooting straight to my core. "Submit to me, Dalea. Let your body be my playground."

One hand pushed beneath my head to pull at the strap of the gag. With a quick movement he pulled it free and tossed the ball gag, wet with my spit and tears, aside so it hit the floor and rolled away.

His lips possessed mine and his tongue plundering my mouth as if he had to taste every inch of it. At the same time his hand moved down my body and between my thighs, pushing through the curls and dipping a single finger inside of me.

I moved desperately against his hand, pain and pleasure merging in a sharpening spiral until I could barely distinguish one from the other.

"You are so beautiful," he groaned against my mouth. "Does it make you happy to know how much you please me?"

I made an affirmative sound as he rained kisses over my face and neck. He massaged my liquid center with his fingers, drawing desperate and mewling sounds of pleasure from my lips.

My hips ground against his searching fingers as his mouth caught mine in another penetrating kiss.

"I'm going to remove the clamps now," he said as his lips moved against mine. "It may feel very intense. Are you ready?"

I had barely finished nodding when I felt his hands at my breasts, working gently at the clamps. In the next moment the clamps were gone and the pain intensified into a sharp locus as the blood flow they had temporarily been denied rushed back all at once.

A screech was wrenched from my throat at the ferocity of the sensation. His hands moved up to the restraints at my wrists and quickly released them.

Julian used his hips to push my legs apart, nestling between them like we were meant to fit together. He pushed himself inside of me, parting the tender flesh. My arms fell down around him of their own volition as my hips rocked against his.

He pumped in and out of me, moving in a way that was nearly frantic. I arched my back against his chest, my sore nipples rubbing harshly against his skin. His head moved down to my chest, caught one tender bud in his mouth and sucked hard.

The mixture of pleasure and pain was enough to send me over the edge and into screaming orgasm.

It didn't take long for him to follow me, letting out a restrained groan as the wetness and heat of his completion pulsed inside of me.

I
came
to myself moments later and the bedside light was on. I blinked owlishly up into the sudden brightness to see Julian leaning over me, his expression somber.

"You did very well, little one," he said gravely. He moved down to untie my legs and I shifted slightly to relieve the tight muscles.

When I turned to look at the clock on the bedside table, Julian followed my gaze.

"You lasted almost ten minutes, which is longer than I expected, to be honest. I'm quite pleased." He reached down and lightly pinched one nipple. I gasped aloud as a spike of pleasurable pain rocked through me. "You'll be sore for a few days but not excessively so — as you can see."

Julian left the bed and went to the closet before returning with a set of robes for each of us. He gently picked me up and wrapped me in downy cotton, manipulating my limbs as I lay limp as a rag doll.

It was if I floated on a soft cloud in the aftermath of my orgasm. I didn't yet have enough room in my brain for words to speak.

He held me against him as he leaned back against the headboard. We sat that way for several minutes, his hands rubbing gentle circles on my back. I was lulled practically to sleep by the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he murmured nonsense endearments against my cheek.

I belatedly realized through my clouded senses that he was asking me a question.

"Will you let me brush your hair?"

I made a groggy sound against his chest that he correctly interpreted as an affirmative.

Julian took two pillows and tossed them on the floor. He then picked me up and gently set me down on the pillows so I could lean back against the side of the bed. He sat on the bed behind me so I nestled between his spread thighs and my head fell to the side to rest against his knee.

He picked up the mass of my hair and fanned it out around me so it draped across his legs.

"On second thought perhaps your hair is your best feature." He pulled a single curl near my ear so it uncoiled completely and then watched as it sprang back into place. "You are forbidden from ever cutting it."

I smiled against his leg. "Yes, sir."

"And she speaks." His fingers slipped into the hair at my scalp, gently massaging. "I was worried I'd done you permanent damage."

"I'm fine," I murmured. "Better than fine."

And I was. I'd finally accepted that to be with Julian meant accepting what he was able to give me. Someday I hoped there would be more. But for now, what we had would have to be enough. I was just forcing myself to suffer needlessly, otherwise.

Julian picked up my brush from the bedside table and gently began to move it through my hair. I didn't want to ask how, but he clearly knew what he was doing — starting at the end and working up gently so my curls didn't become knots.

My hair crackled gently as he brushed, my head moving slightly as he worked at the tangles. I relaxed into the sensation, soothed until I was malleable as clay underneath his hands. He gently pushed my head to the opposite knee so he could reach the hair on the other side.

This felt like love. Maybe that was enough.

Pre-dawn light was just barely breaking over the horizon and I marveled at the beauty of it. I couldn't remember the last time that I felt this peaceful. All of my worries had fallen away. Julian's hands in my hair and the feel of him surrounding me was the only thing that mattered in the world.

He had completely untangled my hair and the brush moved easily through my hair from root to tip. The action of him brushing my hair was strangely erotic and I was languid underneath him — like a cat rolled onto its back so its belly could be rubbed.

"For a dominant, brushing the hair of their submissive can be a very intimate experience." Julian continued to brush as he spoke, the movements of his hand as languorous as his voice. His words wrapped over me like a warm blanket. "This particular brush was designed to have a very smooth back so it can also be used to spank your bare bottom until you scream."

I shuddered hard at the lazy promise in his words. The very next thing out of my mouth was going to be a plea that he put me over his knee and spank me until I passed out.

A loud knock on the door startled me enough that I let out an involuntary gasp. Julian stiffened behind me and his hands stilled on my hair.

"What is it?" he called, voice sharp.

Naomi opened the door with an apologetic look on her face. In her hand was the cordless phone that I was only allowed access to once per week.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," she said quickly. "But Miss Dalea's family has left a number of messages and someone's on the phone for her now. It seems quite urgent."

I glanced back at Julian but his face was inscrutable. Not waiting for permission, I stood to take the phone from Naomi and bring it to my ear.

"Hello?" I said, voice quavering only slightly.

"Dalea? It's Miranda."

"What's up, is everything okay?"

"No, not exactly—“ The reception was poor and her voice cut out before coming back in. “—in the hospital since Monday."

"Wait, I can't understand," I said desperately, moving to the window for better reception. Although I was nearly certain the signal was bad on her end. "Who's in the hospital?"

"Your mother. She collapsed on Monday night. Her white cell count is low from the chemo and they think she might have some sort of infection."

"Oh, no—“

"Don't worry about Lucy and Luis, they're staying with me. I know you're busy with the new job, but I figured you'd want to know as soon as possible."

"Did the doctors say how serious it is?"

"We don't know yet. They're waiting to see how she responds to the antibiotics. She told me not to bother you, but I knew you'd want to know."

My heart dropped like a weight in my chest. "I'll be home as soon as I can. How are the kids handling it?"

"They're scared, but they're holding up. Just hurry back okay."

"Okay. Thank you, Miranda. I'll see you soon."

"See you soon, honey."

The phone fell from my ear as my hand dropped to my side. It was as if my life was some sort of cosmic joke. As soon as I managed to gain some happiness, the universe just couldn't wait to rip it away.

I turned to face Justin and Naomi, who both watched me with careful expressions.

"I have to go back," I said softly. "My mom is in the hospital."

Naomi approached me first and placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I'll take care of the arrangements, you just sit tight."

She took the phone from my limp fingers and left the room.

I walked numbly to the closet in search of something — anything — to wear. All I could think is what I was going to do if something happened to Momma.

Julian watched me pull a shirt and pants from the closet, but didn't say anything. Perhaps he didn't know what to say, people rarely did when confronted with someone else's sadness.

Luckily, I hadn't really brought anything with me when I came so there was little to pack. It had only taken a few hours to fly here, I would probably be able to get home and be at the hospital before lunchtime.

"Don't go."

I turned to Julian in surprise, his words the last thing that I expected to hear. "What are you talking about?"

"I'll send someone to care for your siblings and I'll ensure your mother has the best care available. You can call home as often as you want. There's nothing you can do there except worry."

"You can't be serious."

"What good can you possibly do maintaining a bedside vigil?"

I looked at him in incredulous shock. "That might be the most selfish thing that I've ever heard."

Julian's mouth compressed into a thin line and he looked away. When his gaze returned to me it was carefully emotionless. "If you leave, this is over. I don't want to lose it."

"Are you seriously asking me to choose between you and my sick mother."

"Your mother didn't even want you to know that she was sick."

I just stared at him. The man must have had the hearing of a fruit bat. "That doesn't matter. I can't believe you'd even ask this of me."

His hands clenched into fists on his knees but his voice remained carefully even. "I don't want you to leave."

I closed my eyes against a sudden urge to cry. But then I opened them again, feeling suddenly resolute. "Tell me you love me."

"What?"

"If you want me to stay then tell me you love me."

His gaze became hooded. "Love isn't real."

"You don't believe that," I said savagely. I went back into the closet and ripped at the clothes. "None of these ones have tags. They belonged to her, didn't they?"

"It doesn't matter."

"It matters enough for you to keep them. It matters enough that you have that nursery you keep locked up like a mausoleum, setup like a shrine to your unborn child."

Julian's gaze turned sharp. "How do you know about that?"

I was too emotional to be cowed by his displeasure. "The same way that I know you've convinced yourself that love isn't real because it's something that you can't control. And being out of control terrifies you."

We stared at each other, the tension between us thick enough that I could cut it with a knife.

I was determined to wait him out — desperate to break through the thick wall he had erected around his heart.

When Julian finally spoke, his voice was harsher than I'd ever heard it before. "If you walk out the door, don't ever come back."

Naomi returned before I could reply, my purse and a sheet of paper in her hands. "I have you booked on a flight back to Chicago that departs in an hour. If you leave now, you can just make it. You're already checked-in and you can take this print-out right to the gate."

I took the bag and the ticket from her. Naomi hurried out of the room. I turned back to Julian, who still wore an expression that was as cold as stone.

"I love you," I said bleakly. "Even if you don't believe it's real, that's still the way I feel. I'm sorry that isn't enough for you."

I turned away before he could respond and headed towards the door. Julian didn't try to stop me.

* * *

I
kept
myself from crying until I was in the cab and on my way to the airport. If the poor cab driver wondered why the girl he'd picked up was sobbing into the seat cushions, he was wise enough not to ask any questions.

I'd known from the beginning that none of this was built to last, but I'd never expected it to end like this. If Julian valued his pride more than he wanted to be with me, there wasn't much I could do about it.

Of course that did nothing to keep my heart from feeling like it had broken into a million pieces and lay shattered at the bottom of my chest.

If you walk out that door, don't ever come back.

I barely made it to the bathroom by the check-in counter to throw up what little of my dinner still remained in my stomach.

I passed through security in a daze, sparing just enough attention to marvel at how much nicer it was to fly on a private jet. Just another memory of Julian that would eventually fade into nothingness.

An older man sat next to me on the plane and tried to make small talk. It was all I could do to pretend that I didn't mind looking at a dozen pictures of his grandkids.

My family needed me and that was the most important thing right now. I couldn't stop Julian from being a selfish asshole who only wanted me when I didn't want anything from him.

I used the last of the cash in my wallet to take a cab to the hospital from the airport. I practically fidgeted on the seat as we wove through traffic.

"Can't you go any faster?" I snapped at one point.

The cabbie glared at me in the rearview mirror. "It's rush hour, lady. What do you expect?"

I practically tossed the money for my fare at him before rushing through the hospital door. I took the stairs to the cancer wing on the third story because it was faster than the ancient elevators that were always full of people only going up one floor.

The woman at the nurse's station looked at me like I'd literally appeared out of thin air when I jogged up to the desk.

"I'm looking for Alvina Moreno."

She clicked a few buttons on the computer. "Are you family?"

"I'm her daughter."

"Room fourteen."

I swept down the hallway as quickly as I could without actually running. When I turned the corner for room fourteen, I saw my mother sitting up in the hospital bed eating a cup of jello. A sense of relief washed over me that was so profound I nearly passed out.

"Momma!"

She looked up and smiled wanly. "Dalea."

I dove for the bed and wrapped my arms around her, tears burning in my vision. "Are you okay? I came as soon as I could."

Momma patted me gently on the back, maneuvering around the IV line stuck in her hand. "I'm perfectly fine. Stupid doctors insisted on admitting me when I would have been just as good at home."

I glanced between the IV pump on one side of the bed and the cardiac monitor on the other. "Fine, Momma? Really?"