Having Her: Lies We Tell, Book 2 Page 10

  Slowly, he turned to look at her. His blue eyes were almost black. “No.” The denial was flat, hard. “I don’t want you sleeping with anyone else but me.”

  “Like you get a say. I’m not your girlfriend. I can sleep with whoever the hell I want.”

  He stared at her and it felt like he was peeling back the layers of her anger, opening them up to the core of aching vulnerability that was at the heart of her. She swallowed, her heart racing, wanting to run, get away from him.

  “Go on then,” he said. “If that’s what you really want, do it.”

  It was like he’d pulled the ground out from under her feet. She’d been expecting him to get all possessive and forceful, and part of her was longing for it, craved it like a woman living in the dark craves a small taste of sunlight. And he was being forceful in that he was forcing her to make a choice. A choice she didn’t want to have to make.

  Don’t you want me after all? Don’t you want to fight for me?

  Her lips clamped shut on the words. No, she wouldn’t say that. Wouldn’t be so pathetic. “I’m not your girlfriend,” she repeated instead.

  “No. You’re my slave.”

  The breath caught in her throat. “Not outside the bedroom, Vincent.”

  “So is that what that prick was for?” He gestured out the window to where Lincoln had been standing. “A show of independence? A punishment for crossing the line this morning?” There was lightning in that dark gaze of his. Jagged lightning. “Get this straight, Kara. While you’re sleeping with me you’re no one else’s but mine, so if you want to play games and screw around, you’d better find someone else to play them with.”

  She found she was shaking. Jesus, what was the matter with her? “What does it matter to you what I do? Why should you even care?”

  “Like I told you, you’re mine. Not his. Not any other bastard’s. You’re mine and I’m not sharing you.”

  “So why did you tell me to go just now?”

  “Why did you tell me no tonight?”

  She blinked, anger tangling up inside her, knotting with the relief and the weird thrill his possessiveness sent straight down her spine. And the truth spilled out of her before she could stop it. “Because I needed some goddamn distance, Vin. And because you needed to hear the word no.”

  “You can tell me no anytime.”

  “Oh sure, and you won’t track me down and stand under a streetlight beating your chest and marking your freaking territory.”

  He didn’t look away, didn’t flinch. “It’s why I’m telling you to go if you want to. You always have a choice with me, Kara.”

  “Yeah, well what if I don’t want to have to make a choice? What if I want someone else to make it for me?”

  “You wanted that guy to make it for you?”

  “Sure, why not?” She tried to sound defiant, ignoring the hollow sound of the words.

  “Then why are you still sitting in the car with me?”

  Oh shit. Of course Vin would realize. And know what it meant too. Her defiance was a sham. A façade. Because she wasn’t going to get out, wasn’t going to go chasing off down the sidewalk after Lincoln. She wasn’t going anywhere.

  She couldn’t. There was only one man she’d ever give control over her choices and that man was in the car next to her. She trusted him in a way she’d never trusted anyone else.

  The thought scared her and she looked away so he wouldn’t see the fear, out the window to where the crowds around the nightclub heaved, people calling out and screaming, laughter and shouting.

  Until Vin’s strong fingers took her jaw in his hand and forced her head round so she met his steel blue eyes. “No other men,” he ordered, his voice hard. “Not while you’re sleeping with me.”

  She wanted to jerk her chin out of his hands, wanted to pull away, but his fingers were warm on her skin and she couldn’t control her shiver of reaction. “Yes,” she said hoarsely, unable to give him any other answer because, shit, there wasn’t any other answer she could give. With another man she’d have to be Kara, and she couldn’t be Kara. The slave was what she had to be and there wasn’t anyone else she trusted enough to be that with. “But the same goes for you. No other women.”

  His thumb moved on her jaw, a stroke that set every nerve ending she had alight. “Possessive, baby girl?”

  She met that gaze. Held it. “Fair, asshole.”

  That jagged lightning flashed in his eyes, the anger she’d sensed in him still there. Still just beneath the surface. But the thumb that caressed her was gentle and the contrast made her nearly tremble. “I’m always fair. You know that.”

  Of course she did. Yet she wasn’t going to give in so easily. “Say it.”

  He didn’t hesitate. “I would never screw around on you,” he said in the same, flat, hard voice. “Why would I? When I have everything I need right here.”

  Oh, bugger him. Sometimes he said stuff that made her want to punch him and sometimes he said stuff that undid her completely. Her eyes felt dry and tight. Like they were going to fill with tears. But of course they wouldn’t because crying wasn’t something she was able to do anymore.

  So instead she blurted out the words she’d never meant to say. “Why did you find me?” Her voice had gone husky. “Because if you’re into slave kink, you could have gone to one of those clubs. You don’t need me.”

  Silence fell in the car. And she wished she hadn’t said anything, revealed so much.

  But he didn’t take his hand away, his thumb keeping on with that maddening caress. “I’m not into slave kink. That only works with you.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know,” Vin said, the rough edge to his voice pronounced. “Probably because you’re so fucking oppositional all the time and having you do what I say for just one goddamned minute is such a relief.” Then his gaze slowly lowered to her mouth and that maddening thumb moved to trace the outline of her lower lip. “But mostly because apart from this Corvette, you’re the only thing I have that’s mine.”

  The dry, scratchy feeling behind her eyes intensified. God, she was so pathetic how that got her off. How desired it made her feel. Wanted and, Jesus Christ, safe. It had been so damn long since she’d felt safe…

  “Vin,” she began, wanting to pull away, the old need to protect herself kicking in.

  But his fingers tightened on her jaw, holding her still. “No. You don’t want to have to make any choices? Then put on your seatbelt, baby, because tonight you won’t have to make any.”

  The apartment door shut behind them and Kara turned to shrug off the bag she wore on her shoulders, dumping it on the hallway floor. His hands itched to grab her, pull her close but he kept them by his sides. That would be giving her what she wanted right away and he wasn’t going to give her what she wanted, not right away. Not after tonight.

  A cold, clear anger burned in his blood. He’d never been a possessive sort of guy—protective, hell yeah, he’d kill for those he loved—but the sight of Kara going off with that prick at the club had ignited a jealousy he hadn’t realized was in him.

  Shit, during the day she could do what she liked, but going off with other men while they had this thing going on between them? No fucking way. She was his. And maybe he shouldn’t have revealed so much by telling her what that meant to him but part of him wanted her to know. So she’d understand it was important to him. That he didn’t consider what was happening between them something he could get anywhere else. And because, he’d sensed, she’d needed to hear it.

  But he also needed something for himself. And tonight he was going to get it. Tonight he was going to show her how completely his she was. Make her feel it. Make them both feel it. So she didn’t go off with some other fucker again.

  Kara didn’t speak, just tipped her head back and looked up at him. Her hair was pink and blue striped today, glittering piercings in her eyebrow and nose. She wore a tight black dress, ripped tights and combat boots. An aggressive look to match the purple conta
cts she wore in her eyes.

  He didn’t wait, got straight to the point. “Get naked. But don’t put on the slave collar yet.”

  Uncertainty flickered in her eyes. “I’m not doing this without the collar.”

  “Didn’t I tell you that you didn’t get a choice tonight?”

  Her beautiful mouth opened, the uncertainty deepening on her face. But he held her gaze, daring her.

  “Vin—” she began.

  “You think I’d ever hurt you, slave? Is that what you think?”

  Her throat moved. “I… No.”

  “No,” he echoed softly. “So I gave you an instruction. Now go do it.”

  Her gaze slid away from his, dark, mascaraed lashes fluttering down. She was still and he found he’d curled his fingers into fists at his sides.

  Give this to me, Kara. Please.

  A couple of seconds passed. Then she turned and went down the hallway to her bedroom without a word.

  Thank fuck. Relief caught him by the throat, a thrill of primitive satisfaction pulsing down his spine.

  He hadn’t realized how much her willing submission had meant to him until now. Until he’d seen her nearly walk off with some other man. He’d said she didn’t have a choice but that was a lie. She always had a choice because he’d never force her into this if she didn’t want it. And that made him as vulnerable to her as she was to him.

  Vin leaned back against the wall, ran a hand through his hair, his heartbeat already accelerated, the vicious twist of desire coiling like a snake in his gut.

  Distance. She’d wanted distance. And shit, she was probably right. He probably could have done with a bit of distance himself. Except…he didn’t want distance. He wanted her. On her knees in front of him. Doing whatever he told her to do. Completely his…

  Christ, this was fucked up.

  The bedroom door shut and Kara came back down the hallway. She’d taken off her tight black dress, ripped stockings, and platform boots. Now she was as he liked to her be—naked. All soft, feminine curves and golden skin, long pink-and-blue striped hair with its blonde roots in a candy-colored shower over her shoulders.

  Lust punched him hard in the gut. He loved that contrast to her. All her hard edges and sharp angles stripped away to reveal such incredible softness. Full breasts. Exquisitely curved hips and thighs. Graceful waist. He couldn’t even remember now why he’d wanted all those fit, muscled women when there was Kara. Kara who only ever revealed this side of herself to him.

  He pushed himself away from the wall as she came closer, the slave collar held loosely in her hands. Then she stopped right in front of him, purple eyes wide. Uncertainty still lurked in them, the pulse at the base of her throat beating hard.

  He knew why she was worried. Why she wanted the collar. It was the same reason he wanted her to wear it: so they didn’t have to be themselves. So he could be the master instead of a man with a mother who was sick. Who had a business he had to work his butt off to keep going. A man constantly working to keep the shit life kept piling on top of him off his back.

  But now he wasn’t that man any longer. With Kara he could be the master, the man in complete and utter control. Whose only worry was the pleasure he’d take from his slave girl.

  “Give me the collar,” he ordered and held out his hand.

  She didn’t look away. Maintained eye contract as she handed him the cheap piece of faux leather, daring him in the same way as he’d dared her in the car. And he knew why—he was changing the rules and she didn’t like it. But that was too bad. Tonight he didn’t want her challenging him. What he wanted was her complete obedience. Her acknowledgement that she was his to possess in any way he wanted.

  He closed his fingers around the collar. “You’re defiant, slave,” he murmured. “I’m not sure I like it.”

  A spark glowed in her eyes for a second. But then her lashes came down, her gaze averted. “I’m sorry,” she murmured in a thick voice.

  “I’m sorry what?”

  “I’m sorry…master.”

  “That’s better. You’re already up for one lesson tonight, baby. You don’t want to make it any worse. Now turn around.”

  She did so without hesitation, her back to him.

  Gently he pushed the striped fall of her hair over one bare shoulder then looped the collar around her neck. And as he began to do up the buckle, he leaned forward so his mouth was near her ear. “Remember this, slave,” he murmured. “This collar is a reminder of who you belong to.” He pulled the buckle tight. “Me.”

  In the silence of the hallway he heard Kara’s breath catch. “You like that?” He put a hand on the back of her neck, ran it down the elegant curve of her spine in a long possessive stroke, feeling her shiver beneath his palm. “You like belonging to me?”

  “Y-yes.” Her voice was a hoarse whisper.

  Vin slid an arm around her waist, bringing her hard up against him. The softness of her butt pressing against his groin was like petrol thrown on an open fire, desire flaring inside him, his cock already pushing against the zip of his jeans. The soft warmth of her body and the scent of her was skin was like a drug he didn’t even know he’d been craving.

  “You stuttered, slave,” he said softly, brushing his mouth over the vulnerable skin of her neck. “Tell me again how much you like belonging to me.”

  Another shiver went through her and she tilted her head slightly, exposing more of the bare curve of her neck in blatant invitation. “I like it.”

  “Like what?” He didn’t kiss her again, keeping one arm tight around her waist. But he moved his other hand, spreading his fingers on her stomach so that the tip of his middle finger almost brushed the curls between her thighs. “Say it for me. Say it to your master.”

  “I like…” She took a ragged sounding breath. “Having you make the decisions.”

  He let his fingers curve lower, gently brushing her curls, feeling the tremble that went through her go through him as well. He wanted this. Had to have it. Her acknowledgement. Her choice. “And who do you belong to?”

  Her head fell back against his shoulder, her body arching, pushing against his hand. “You, master,” she said thickly. “I belong to you.”

  Satisfaction uncoiled inside him, a primitive feeling that would have felt wrong in any other context. It quieted something in him. The part of him that was always fighting, always watchful, always vigilant. It let him rest.

  This moment was his and only his. And so was she.

  Vin tightened his arm around her, his palm flat to her stomach, applying pressure to keep her butt hard against his groin. “Yeah,” he said roughly. “You do. Because I’m the only one who can give you what you want. What you need. I’m the only one who knows you, slave. And don’t you ever forget that.”

  Kara couldn’t breathe. But it didn’t have anything to do with the collar around her neck. Every sense she had was focused on the hot palm that rested on her stomach. On the fingers that pushed through the curls between her thighs and stopped just short of where she desperately wanted them to go. If she didn’t breathe then perhaps he’d move those fingers down just a little bit more.

  She was held tight against him, all that hard, hot male power a wall at her back. The brief spark of anger she’d felt when he’d told her not to put the collar on yet had gone, vanished beneath the weight of her need. The sheer relief of being here with him and knowing she didn’t have to fight. Didn’t have to do anything but let him do whatever he wanted.

  I’m the only one who knows you…

  Fear twisted inside her, a reflexive fear, pushing through the wall she’d erected between herself and the slave. But it was gone before it had a chance to settle. A slave didn’t have to be afraid of being known by her master because there was no rejection here.

  No, there was only ownership. Belonging. And it was such a relief. She didn’t have to hide. Or fight. Didn’t need to defend herself. She only had to be.

  This was about more than not having to make ch
oices so she could have sex. This was about giving her absolute trust to another person and feeling safe to do so. She couldn’t allow herself to do it as Kara just yet, but she could do it as the slave.

  Because the slave had nothing to lose.

  Kara closed her eyes as his fingers twisted in her curls, tugging gently, and she shifted, restless and aching. She wanted more than gentleness. God, she wanted to feel owned. Possessed. “Please…” she said hoarsely. “Please, master. I need…”

  “Stop it.” His voice was a growl in her ear. “You were going to do this with another man tonight which means you don’t get to ask for anything.” The heel of his hand slid down a little more, stopping just above her aching clit, pressing down.

  She shuddered. God, he’d barely even started touching her and already she was shaking, her body coiled and tight with desire. The combination of his arm holding her, the heat of his body at her back and the hot, spicy scent that was all Vin was an overwhelming mix. “I know,” she forced out. “I’m sorry, master. I’m sorry.”

  “I’ve already had your apology. It’s now time for your punishment.”

  The word popped like an exploding light bulb in her brain. Punishment. She went utterly still, an old familiar feeling crawling through her. Would he…hurt her?

  You want him to.

  A kind of desperate anticipation caught in her chest but she ignored it. Shoved it away. No, that wasn’t what she wanted here. She was over that now.

  “What punishment?”

  “You don’t get to ask that either.” He released her suddenly and far, far too soon.

  She began to turn, only to be stopped by his hand on the back of her neck, a heavy, sure, dominant grip. “No. Go into the lounge.”

  His hand dropped away and instinctively she moved forward through the doorway ahead of her into her little lounge.

  “Stop,” Vin ordered from behind her, a darkness in his voice that made her breath catch and her heart race.

  She obeyed without thought. Without hesitation.