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“Umm, well, I told you that my parents kept themselves isolated from others except for the church. I left two weeks before I turned eighteen. I couldn’t risk sticking around any longer.”

“How come?”

“Because they’d chosen a husband for me.”

“What?”

“I overheard them talking. I wasn’t supposed to know about it. I didn’t even know who I was supposed to marry, just that they’d arranged for me to marry him the day I turned eighteen. I guess they thought they were doing the right thing. Sort of. I was very sheltered, remember. I’d barely even spoken to boys my own age. I didn’t want a husband. I wanted to see something of the world. To meet other people. To go to college. They wanted me to get married and have babies.”

“Sounds like some crazy cult.”

“Guess it does. It was all a bit crazy. I knew I was supposed to be dutiful and obedient. That’s what I was taught. To be subservient to my parents and to my husband. But I didn’t feel very obedient or submissive. Guess it’s strange that once I was free, I discovered BDSM. But then, I’m not overly good at being submissive.”

Except with him. Because she trusted him. And there were very few people she trusted. Tara. Her aunt. And now Tiny.

“I snuck out in the middle of the night with some clothes and money I stole from my father. My mother and I were never given any money. I sent the money back when I could.”

“Where did you go? You were a baby.”

“I knew very little about the outside world. I had an aunt. I’d overheard my parents talk about her. She was my mother’s sister. She often wrote to my mother. I managed to intercept a letter one day. She was begging to be allowed to visit. There was a return address. I kept the address, bought a bus ticket and surprisingly, managed to make my way there.”

Tiny tightened his hold on her. Jesus, anything could have happened to her. She could have been assaulted, mugged, she could have gotten completely lost. Even though he wasn’t religious, he sent up a prayer of thanks to the big guy for watching over her.

“It was a gamble. I mean, I’d never even spoken to her. We didn’t have television, and my parents only let me read things they approved of. I knew I was different because I didn’t go to school, but I didn’t realize how weird my life was. How weird I was.”

He tipped her face up. “Not weird. Different. Nothing wrong with that.”

She gave him a small smile. “You’re very non-judgmental. I feel like I can tell you anything, and you will just roll with it. I’ve never told anyone the full truth about me. Luckily, my aunt took me in. She was wonderful. She was so patient. I finished out high school then decided to go to college. I still lived with her while I went to college. Then I moved to Dallas a few years after I graduated when this job opportunity came up.”

“And your parents?” he asked. They had a lot to answer for as far as he was concerned. What right did they have to keep their child so isolated?

“They disowned me.” She shrugged, but there was a sad look on her face. “I was angry at first, and I didn’t want to even try to contact them. Then a few months ago… I don’t know, I guess I felt like I should make an effort so I wrote them a letter. They don’t have a computer, and I didn’t feel up to talking to them on the phone. I told them where I was living, about my job. But they never wrote back.”

He

ran his hand up and down her back, hating how sad she sounded. Reagan was extremely resilient. And strong.

“I admire you.”

“What? Me? Why? I haven’t done anything admirable,” she told him, surprised. “You’re the one who fought for our country. Who puts himself at risk to save others. I sit in an office all day. I’m nothing special.”

He turned her, so she was straddling his hips. “You are special. You’re strong. A fighter.”

She blushed slightly. “Will you tell me more about your childhood? It doesn’t have to be about your father.”

She knew from what he’d told her before that he wasn’t a good man.

“What about your sisters?” she asked.

“I don’t see them much.”

“Why not? Don’t you get on?” She scowled, looking fierce. “Did they do something to upset you?”

“Ease down, warrior,” he teased her. He pushed her blonde hair behind her ear. “They didn’t do anything. I’ve got three sisters. I’m the youngest.”

“And you don’t like them?”

“Like ’em just fine. Just don’t talk to them much.” He should talk to them more, though. It wasn’t their fault their father was a fuckwit.


Tags: Laylah Roberts Doms of Decadence Erotic