“You’re just going to kneel there and let me do whatever I want?” I asked.
He answered by moving his hands to his T-shirt, tugging it up and over his head, then letting it fall to the floor.
“Hit me.”
“What?”
“I’ve never been able to understand sadomasochism. Pain doesn’t please me, nor do I like hurting the people I’m with, but I think I get it now. A masochist sub gives everything to their Dom, holding nothing back, not even their sense of self-preservation. They put themselves into a Dom’s hand and say, ‘Hurt me. Do with me what you will.’”
He tightened the grip he had on his opposing wrist, as if bracing himself for what was to come.
“Let it all out, Sage. Lash me with it. Make it hurt. Give me all of your pain and your anger, because I’m the one who deserves it. Give me every fucking shitty thing you’ve had to go through because of us, and then…”
He sucked in one breath, then another, but that didn’t seem to help. They were coming faster and faster as his head dipped forward, forcing his body into an even greater abject position.
“Then claim me as yours. Put the collar around my neck, if you can bring yourself to do so, because then I’ll know.” One eye opened, and his head tilted to one side as he spoke. “Every time I move, every time I walk into a room, at home, at work, in public, I’ll feel the cool metal ring against my skin, reminding me of whom I belong to, of whom I serve—you, Sage, it will always be you. If you give me this, I’ll never take a step wrong again, I promise.”
This, his speech, the collar, the room, the array of whips and flails and paddles along the wall, it felt like they all stabbed at me, demanding my attention, right when I didn’t feel ready to tackle that. Scarlet was totally right—I was completely unprepared for this. Still, something in me, something wild and ferocious, something that had long fangs and wasn’t afraid to use them, had me marching across the room and snatching down a little whip made from lots of different short strands of leather.
“Yess…” he hissed, head dropping down, eyes closing again as I approached, though he jumped when I set the collar down on a small table with a click.
I thought of Mum and her relentless sniping. I thought of Chloe marching in to the house like she owned it, and that was because she did in a way. I saw Max’s pain and mine. I heard their stories, all of those damn words, washing over me and filling me up as I walked over to that bare back. I scanned the broad width of his shoulders, all that unmarked skin, and then I pulled my arm up and the whip back.
49
Ididn’t hit him. I wasn’t sure I ever would be able to, especially if he decided that was what he was into, but I definitely couldn’t in anger or fear. My hand trembled with it, with the knowledge that I could, that he would give me this, but nothing that had happened warranted abuse, which to me, that was what this would be. People hammering out their hard and soft limits and then proceeding with impact play was one thing. Lashing out at him because I wanted to kick Chloe in the cunt was another. So I let the soft leather tails of the whip trail down his back, and that was when he let out a harsh sob of a breath. The whip fell from my fingers, though I wanted to smooth them over his bare skin, but instead, I forced him to do something so much harder.
“How about instead of being so fucking dramatic, you sit on the bench and talk to me?”
His head whipped around, his eyes searching mine before he would move, slowly unbending before getting to his feet.
“Sage?”
“Ah look, words. That’s a good start. Keep using them. You’re doing so well.”
My voice was sharp, snarky. I still felt on edge, like someone was going to stride on in here and lob another emotional grenade at me, but for once, they didn’t. Tobias did exactly as I asked, going to sit on the leather bench, which was very, very distracting. There were abs, so many abs, and my tongue shifted in my mouth, wanting to trace each one.
Only I wouldn’t.
“I don’t want to hurt you, especially when I’m angry and sad, and I’m still both of those things.”
“Sage, sweetheart, I—”
I held up a hand, stopping him where he was as he tried to slide off the bench.
“I’m going to make you do something much harder than cop a flogging. I’m going to make you listen to me. Stay where you are until I say otherwise.”
I watched his expression, saw irritation and frustration war there, along with an eminently alpha need to push back against any boundary, but I could only really let out a breath when he nodded.
“Paying off Chloe? That was the best strategy for dealing with her?”
“Permission to speak?” I snorted at that and then gestured for him to proceed. “I just wanted her out of our fucking lives. When we were on the plane back to Adelaide, when my mind was teeming with all of the possibilities of what happened to you, only Max’s link making clear where you were, I did a ruthless audit of our lives and started removing everything that might hurt you. Chloe will keep on trying to get into our lives to get more money. How else can she support the fabulously indolent lifestyle she feels she deserves without it? I don’t give a shit about money. What I do care about is you.”
Tobias leaned forward then, pushing the rules as far as he could, and I shook my head in response.
“If I have to spend our whole fucking fortune on keeping you safe from our shitty past, I’ll do it.”
“Or we could work it out together.” I picked up the collar and spun it around my finger. “It seems this whole Dom thing has warped your perspective somewhat. You’re a bossy prick.” He didn’t want to smile at that, but he had to. I was charming when I wanted to be. “You’ll always be a bossy prick. If I put this collar around your neck, you’ll be a bossy prick with a shiny piece of metal that continues to validate that sense of absolute certainty you seem to carry with you as you make decisions for us, which is why I’ll never collar you.”