Chapter 17

SEVENTEEN

DOMHNALL

It’s difficult to perform aftercare, but at least she’s silent as I uncuff her and lift her down from the cross.

I should never have admitted as much as I did. But I can’t deny it to myself any longer: I’m obsessed with her.

She’s docile as a kitten as I hold her for the allotted time my dominant training taught me to, then get up to leave. When she gets up out of bed, too, I expect her to try peppering me with questions again.

But all she does is drop down to her knees and crawl after me, nuzzling the back of my knees like a kitten might.

Fuck. Me. I drop a hand down to pet her head but swallow down the words that are clogging in my throat, ready to pour out. Praise. Adoration. More.

Instead, I withdraw my hand and walk to the elevator. She crawls behind me but stops a full ten feet away from the elevator. I still glance behind me before I enter the code. Her head is in position, facing the ground.

Again I have to fight not to let out a good girl. She’s only doing what she’s supposed to.

I step on the elevator and watch her stay in position the entire time the doors close.

But as soon as they do, I drag both hands down my face.

I am so fucked.

She’s all I think about. I’m hardly eating. Or working. I watch her day and night.

As soon as I get upstairs, I immediately go to my computer and pull up the monitor to watch her like a compulsion.

Like an obsession.

I buy her clothes that arrive in large boxes on my front door even though I want her naked all the time. I brought out the box of keepsakes I’d buried in the back of my closet and had almost convinced myself didn’t exist. To torture myself. To remind myself.

She’s too perfect.

She submits too well.

She’s everything I dreamed of. She always was. She’s haunted my nightmares for a decade, and now to have her here in the flesh, tantalizing me with her sweet tasting pussy, shaking and shuddering under my tongue, under my caning…

Fuck .

She’s fucking playing me again and I’m letting her because it’s such a sweet fantasy. I’m truly cunt-struck. It’s the blight of lads from my country.

I know the bubble will pop and she’ll show her true colors. Eventually, I’ll find out what she really came here for.

But in the meantime, I’m marking her perfect, untouched body and watching her shake till she passes out from the places I take her. Her physiological responses are so real. Things I wouldn’t have thought a body could fake.

Which makes some eejit part of me think this is… that maybe some part of this is… real, too.

I yank open the bottom drawer for the whip but even the action makes me wince. It’s far too soon for another session. There’s nothing to do but slam the drawer shut again.

I should be keeping my strength up, anyway. For the flip. For when she devastates me again.

My phone rings and I stab the green button with an irritated, “What?”

My sister launches directly in. “I don’t like you keeping Brooke like this. And why haven’t you been picking up my calls? You always pick up my calls. What’s going on? And why won’t you let anyone see Brooke?”

“She’s fine.” I suppose it was inevitable that I’d have to deal with Moira. Mads was apparently staying at her place. It infuriates me all over again that Madison targeted my sister even while all I want to do is go down to the dungeon and make her knees weak by edging her all to fuck.

“Then let me see her,” Moira says.

“You can. Everyone can. At the club on Saturday.”

Moira makes a disgruntled noise. I’m not one to usually deny her requests. She’s used to a big brother she thinks she can wrap around her little finger. She doesn’t know I’ve only allowed her to think that. “But… why?!”

“I’ve told you enough times that I prefer for my sexual proclivities to remain private.”

“What! I don’t want to know about—! You know I don’t care about that. I’m just worried about Brooke. Are you being careful with her? She was in the hospital just six weeks ago!”

I roll my eyes. Sure she was. I’m sure she made her case sound so pathetic to get herself into my sister’s good graces. For as worldly as Moira is in some ways, in others, she can be ridiculously na?ve.

“Here, I’m faxing you her medical records. She shouldn’t be playing hard after just getting out of the hospital. Why can’t I just talk to her?” She sounds exasperated.

It’s not fair or kind to stonewall my sister like this. “Because she’s not allowed to come to the phone right now.”

Another annoyed noise comes from Moira. “What the hell does that mean, Domhnall?”

I get down to the point. “Do you think I would hurt her? ”

Moira makes a frustrated-sounding noise. “Well. Of course not.”

“So what are you worried about?”

“She’s fragile right now. And I’d just feel better if I could hear her voice. Don’t you want me to feel better?”

Well look at that. My sister’s learned my weak spots over the years, too. But fuck any fucking weakness. I won’t be weak anymore. Not when it comes to Madison.

“Dammit, Moira, just stop worrying. I told you, you’ll see her in a few days at the club. I just need you to trust me. I’m trying to do something important here with… Brooke … and it doesn’t help to have you interfering every other second.”

“I’ve only called once a day! And this is the first time you’ve even picked up.”

A twinge of guilt hits me between my eyes. My sister’s the only person I always pick up for, but I let her leave messages the past few days. She was only haranguing me about my choices with Madison.

But she’s not the only one who can play on our sibling ties.

“Do you trust me?” It’s unfair to ask this of her, but my past with Madison is always something I’ve protected her from.

I hear her difficulty when she breathes out harshly down the line. I’m being cruel to her and I know it.

“Yes,” she finally says in a rush. “I trust you. But Brooke is a friend. ”

Her saying that only pisses me off again. If I’d realized Moira had been taking in strays from the shelter… That’s it, I’m firing my current guard who’s supposed to report all her activities to me. Then I roll my eyes again. Moira’s probably fucking him by now anyway to get him in her pocket.

She wouldn’t consider it as such, but she’s got her own means of manipulation. She just happens to be giving away for free the thing almost everyone in the world wants: she’s beautiful, a good listener and pretty much always wants to fuck you. She’s hard to say no to.

“Well,” I grind out between gritted teeth, “You’ll see your good friend in three days, and she’ll arrive in perfect condition.” All the red marks I just put on her ass yesterday should have healed by then. A pity, because I’ve been looking forward to going down and watching her have to sit gingerly, then maybe adding more. I never thought of that morning-after benefit. Maybe that’s what Caleb meant by the advantages of having a longer-term sub.

“Fine,” Moira said, sounding petulant. “I know when I’ve lost a fight with you.”

“We aren’t fighting,” I say with surprise. “You just didn’t get what you wanted.”

“Same thing,” she sighs.

I give a genuine laugh out loud. “I’ve got to go.”

“Just look at the records I’m sending.” Then Moira hangs up.

She’s not mad, she just forgets the social niceties of saying “ hello and goodbye” sometimes. One of the things I love about my sister. We don’t have to work so hard at fulfilling all the inane little social contracts such as tiring small talk that exhausts the both of us.

I breathe out hard, then look at the little project I’ve laid out for myself at the other side of the office.

It won’t be long now. I feel it coming this time. The flip. No more fucking weakness. I’ll be prepared.

Or so you tell yourself.

I’m still in control. I’m in control, goddammit.

Who’s the liar now?