54. Olivia

Chapter fifty-four

Olivia

I glance at Victor nervously. He’s been quiet since we left Connor’s house. We all went back over to his house after we met baby Mia to help clean up because I couldn’t stop thinking about the mess we left. He wasn’t upset. In fact, I think he was expecting it. Ansley teased me about it because she knows me well enough to understand I can’t stand messes.

Part of me wants to ask Victor what’s wrong, but at the same time I don’t because I have a feeling I already know. Is he going to make me talk about why I can’t get pregnant? I can obviously use my safe word, but up to this point, he hasn’t pushed me beyond my limits.

My stomach becomes a whirlwind when he pulls up to the gate. It opens wide and lets us in along with Arden, who has been following us. Victor stops in front of the front door, but doesn’t turn the car off. I finally turn to look at him.

“Go upstairs, take a shower, shave, but don’t wash your hair. Leave your hair down, then wait for me,” he says without looking at me. I bite on my bottom lip.

“Sir—”

“Do as I say. Now.” His voice drops even lower than it already was.

Am I in trouble? “Yes, sir,” I whisper. My heart beats erratically as I get out of the car. I step up on the walkway, place my thumb on the entryway, and open the door, glancing back at him one more time, but he’s still facing straight ahead.

As soon as I step inside and close the door, he drives away. I lean against it and take a deep breath, not knowing what to expect. Finally pushing away, I slowly take each step. I don’t know how much time I have, but if I am about to get punished, I don’t want to add to it by not doing what he said.

Entering the bathroom, I turn the shower on to warm up and quickly strip. I pull my hair up into a bun and begin thinking back over the day. He’s going to want to know why I can’t get pregnant. I wash quickly, then shave. Stepping out of the shower, I dry off quickly before pulling my hair down and running my brush through it until it’s smooth, then place all my clothes in the laundry basket and walk out into the bedroom.

He isn’t in here yet, but I didn’t expect him to be. Victor didn’t tell me what position he wanted me in, so I walk to the door and stand next to it. I place my hands behind my back and look at the floor. I’m not sure how long I stand here, but after a few minutes it takes a lot of self control to not rock back on my feet or rock side to side or fidget at all.

Once I get past that, though, I begin to think back over the day and my interactions with Victor. Then my thoughts drift back to our conversation about protection and me telling him I couldn’t get pregnant. He tried to talk to me about it, but I refused. It’s the one thing that has haunted me the most about what Donovan did to me and it’s the main reason I haven’t talked to anyone about what he did to me.

Talking about the sexual abuse isn’t easy, but — I stop that train of thought. It’s even something I’ve refused to think about until that day in the office when Caroline said she thought she might be pregnant. Then it all came rushing back and not too long after that, Victor showed up in my life.

A lump has formed in my throat, and my eyes are burning with unshed tears. I haven’t cried since the day I found out my mom died. I didn’t cry at her funeral; I didn’t cry the first night Donovan came into my room; I didn’t cry the night I found out he actually killed her, and I didn’t cry the day I woke up and realized what he had done for me.

But it feels like ever since the day I saw Victor at that restaurant, I’ve been fighting the tears. Eight months ago, I never thought in a million years I’d be here. I never thought I’d be in a relationship. But are we in a relationship? He’s my Dom and I’m his submissive, but beyond that, what are we? Watching everyone today made it even more frustrating.

Will this be all that we ever are? I know at one point I never thought I’d be the person that would get married. Now that I’ve had a taste, I want it. I want to hug and kiss him in public. Yes, he touched me today, but not how he touches me in front of Leo or Lane. Is it my fault? Does he think I don’t want him to?

My throat is scratchy as I hold back the tears, and my nose begins to run. I’m about to get out of position to wipe it when Victor walks in. I force myself to stand still and sniffle instead. Though I want to look up, I keep my eyes down. Out of the corner of my eye, I can tell he’s also naked. He stopped in the doorway, but he enters all the way and turns to close the door. Victor comes and stands in front of me.

“Olivia, you may look at me.”

His voice is in that octave that makes my knees weak. I look up at him and sniffle again. The corners of his eyes wrinkle slightly as concern fills his eyes, but he doesn’t say anything. He brings up his hands, and that’s when I notice the rope in them.

I blink rapidly as I stare at it, understanding dawning on me. “Is this a punishment, Sir?” If it is, I can’t deal with it.

“No, it’s not, treasure,” he replies immediately.

I stare at him, unsure. “It feels like one,” I whisper.

He cups my face with one hand. “This is not a punishment. I am pushing you out of your comfort zone. But I am also pushing myself out of my comfort zone. I have avoided this because of what I went through with Josie. That’s unfair to you and it’s unfair to me. I want you to talk to me, but I also want you to trust me. I want to use this exercise to do that.”

My bottom lip trembles with all the emotion I’ve been holding in for the past ten years that is bubbling to the surface. He watches me closely. I can’t talk; my voice is caught in my throat.

“When’s the last time you cried, treasure?” he asks. He’s going to make me talk. I inhale slowly and swallow until I think I’m able to speak without completely breaking.

“The day mom died,” I finally answer.

His gaze softens, and he rubs his thumb along my cheekbone. “That’s not healthy,” he murmurs.

I lick my lips, and he drops his hand. “I didn’t want him to see me as weak.”

“He’s not here, Olivia, and you are anything but weak. You have been through more than what most people could even imagine, and you survived. Now you’re overcoming it. You are a strong, beautiful, empathetic, caring woman. You are not weak.” I swallow, his words filling my heart and making it beat hard. “Now, do you agree to do this?”

I stare at him for a long time as I decide if I want to do this or not. I have my safe word, so if I use it, he will stop immediately. That is what ultimately helps me make my decision.

“Yes, Sir.”