30. Grace

THIRTY

GRACE

I kick off the covers, hopping out of bed because there's no way I'm falling asleep tonight. This place is amazing. It's so big and cozy, but knowing that Tanner is just up the stairs is making me restless.

After he got me settled in, we said a very awkward goodnight before he told me I could lock the door behind him. I know he wants me to feel like I'm being left alone, but at this point, I don't even know if I want to be.

When I woke up in his arms earlier, a part of me that had been buried for so long felt like it was sparking back to life. Being in such close proximity to him made my head spin in a way that I've craved since the last time I touched him. It's getting harder and harder to continue fighting the way I still feel about him.

I shouldn't, but I open the door, heading down the hall and up the stairs. I make my way to the kitchen, where I open the fridge and take out a bottle of water. Every light up here is on and I can't help but wonder if he did it because he knows I'm still afraid of the dark. He knows everything about me, and he's never judged me for any of my weird quirks. Cash just used to laugh and tell me to stop being a child. He never understood me. Not the way Tanner does.

I pull out a chair and sit down at the table, looking around the huge space. This house is way too big for one person, even if he does have more money than God. I wonder if he built this place thinking that one day he'd have a family. I can't stop my mind from wondering that if things hadn't gone down the way they did between us, would I be here with him now? Would we be married? Would we have children? All of those questions remain unanswered because he made the choice long ago to leave me behind so he could live this life.

I'm unable to sit still, standing and walking around the room. I probably shouldn't, but he did tell me that I was welcome to come upstairs and to make myself at home. Since I'm nosy as fuck, I don't fight the urge to open drawers and cupboards, looking around to see what's inside. And when I find a matte black key that looks very similar to the door in the downstairs hallway, my curiosity peaks. He seemed so secretive about what was in that room, and it only made me want to see it for myself even more.

Unable to shake the undeniable pull to that door, I make my way down the staircase and stand in front of it. I hesitate for a moment, trying to convince myself that this is wrong, but the voice in the back of my head telling me to just peek inside wins. I reach out, fitting the key into the lock, and I'm slightly shocked when I twist and hear the faint click of it disengaging. I turn the knob, slowly and quietly pushing my way in. Whatever I was expecting to see when I came in here—this is definitely not it.

The room is shrouded in black and gray. Everything from the carpet to the damask wallpaper is rich and dangerous looking. Off to my left is a large, four post bed with black silk sheets. Next to it on the wall, hangs a wide variety of whips and paddles. And dangling from each post is a black, soft cuff restraint.

I'm completely speechless as I take a few steps forward, looking into the back corner, where a dark wood Saint Andrews cross stands. There are also several other pieces of furniture, including a spanking bench and a large, velvet covered throne in the center of the room. I've watched plenty of BDSM porn, so I know what all of these things are, but I've never seen them in person.

I turn to leave, needing some air because the very last thing I expected when I came in here was to find Tanner's sex room. I want to vomit thinking about all of this equipment and what it's used for. Who it's used with . But as soon as my feet begin to move, a tall shadow steps into the doorway, then inside the room, sucking all of the oxygen right out of it. He's wearing only a pair of snug-fitting black boxer briefs that are hiked all the way up his muscular thighs. His hair is mussed like he was asleep, but his exhausted eyes tell me he hasn't been able to rest any better than I have tonight.

I stand completely still, unable to rip my eyes away from Tanner's, even though my brain is telling me to get the fuck out of here. To put some distance between us so I can process everything I've seen tonight. But the pull I have to him ever since he came back into my life is too strong for me to fight. Every part of me is at odds right now, and it has me wanting to scream. To cry. To walk over and punch him so hard that he feels even a fraction of the pain I feel when I think about how many women he's had in this room.

"Grace," he says, putting his hands up in surrender. "It's not what you think."

I huff an incredulous laugh. "It doesn't matter what I think, Tanner. You made it clear that your life didn't have room for me in it. So, if you want to bring women to your sex dungeon and—" I stop, because I honestly can't say the words out loud. "You can do whatever you want," is what I settle on. After five years of thinking about him being with other people, I thought I was okay with it. But seeing this room for myself, knowing that he's doing all the things we talked about doing together, with other women; I want to crawl out of my own skin. I'm feeling everything and nothing all at once, and it's making me want to scream.

He takes a tentative step toward me, and I instinctively take one back, keeping him at a safe distance. I don't trust myself anymore. One minute, I want him to touch me. To kiss me. Anything to feel close to him. But right now, I need to let myself feel the anger. Because when I finally get the strength to let him go again, I'm going to need this moment to fuel my resolve.

"I've never—" he begins, squeezing his eyes shut. "I've never brought anybody in here."

My brows furrow in confusion. "When did you put it in?" I ask, thinking it must be a pretty new addition to his house if it hasn't been used yet. Part of me is relieved, and my body loosens a little, knowing I'm not standing in the middle of a room where he's dominated people who aren't me.

He takes a breath, staring into my eyes. "When I built the house. Four years ago."

To say that I'm shocked would be a massive understatement. We've been apart for half a decade. He's had this house, with this room, almost as long. He's clearly still into kink if he has all of this equipment, so why is he telling me nobody's ever been in here. It doesn't make sense.

"Why?" I blurt. Part of me cringes, because I really don't know if I can go through hearing about him being with anyone else, but the other part of me needs to understand.

"Because I couldn't…be with anyone else."

It takes me a moment to register what he's saying. And maybe I'm not understanding him correctly, but does he mean that he hasn't been with anyone else…at all? I shouldn't di g any deeper, but I need the answer more than I need my next breath.

"At all? Since me?" I ask so quietly, I'm surprised he can even hear me. But when he looks down, giving a small shake of his head, I suck in a quick breath. My hand flies up over my mouth and I do everything I can to stop the tears from welling up in my eyes. I'm feeling so many different things right now, it's hard to settle on one dominant emotion. But for some reason, when I take a second to sift through them, the thing I'm zeroing in on the most is how fucking angry I am.

He's still focusing his attention on the floor, clearly unable to look me in the eye, which makes me even more pissed off.

No. No. He left me, alone and broken, begging him to stay, so we could ‘live our lives'. And now he's telling me that he never even did it? He never tried to find happiness? Fuck him for doing this to me. To us.

" Tanner, look at me," I say through clenched teeth. He does, but I can see the desperation in his eyes. He's hoping I don't bring it all back up, and as much as I don't want to relive that day, I need to know.

I raise my chin, finding all the confidence and bravery I can muster. "Say it. Say it out loud," I order.

"Grace," he replies, and I can hear his voice shake.

"Say it!" I yell. "Tell me you broke us for nothing! Because I didn't go off to California anyway! I was so devastated by you ripping my heart out that I couldn't even bring myself to leave Hope Harbor! I stayed, went to community college, and worked my way to the top at the boutique, all while hoping you'd come back for me, but you never did! I haven't designed a single piece since that day, Tanner," I say, seething at this point because I realize that his choice fucked us both so badly that we were left empty and alone because of it. "It's dumb because I shouldn't have given you an ounce of my life after you walked away, but you didn't just take a piece of me. You took everything. And I fucking hate you for it. "

I release a shaky exhale, my eyes burning into him as I vibrate with rage. I need to get out of here. I will my feet to move. I beg them to, even. But when Tanner drops to his knees where he stands, I may as well have roots attached to me because there's no way I'm going anywhere. I stand there completely silent, unable to breathe as he looks up at me.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly, bringing his gaze to mine. His shoulders are pulled low, and the regret for what he's done is painted across his expression. "What can I do to make it better? I know I can't fix it overnight, but I'll do anything. I'll give you anything you ask for. Just say it, Grace. Please. "

I want to tell him there's nothing that he can do, but the truth is, I don't know anything anymore. I know that I still love him, and that fact makes me even angrier, because I know that if I didn't, it would be a hell of a lot easier to walk out of this room. To leave him here on his knees, begging me for forgiveness. But for some reason, I just can't bring myself to go.

I stand there, staring at him as he puts his hands in his lap and bows his head.

It's his submission. To me.

My mind is going in a thousand directions all at once, but I can't put any solid thoughts together right now. All I know is that I want to punish him. I want to punish him for leaving me alone all these years and not finding the happy life he said he wanted. For making me wait and never coming back. And for making me feel all of these things I thought I was strong enough to let go of, but once again, are proving just how weak I really am.

I am so sick of being weak. I just want to take my power back.

"Crawl to me," I say, my voice shaking. I expect him to hesitate or tell me no, but he doesn't. He leans forward onto his hands, and he fucking crawls . I back up as he moves, not stopping until I feel the backs of my legs hit the throne behind me. I stay standing, waiting for him to reach me before I sit. This position, me in this big, beautiful chair, and him on all fours in front of me, gives me a feeling of control so intense, that it takes on a life of its own. I feel like a goddess in front of this man, who at this point, would do anything for just an ounce of my forgiveness. But I can't just give it. If I'm ever able to move on from what he did to me, it'll be because he earned it.

I slide my hands up my thighs, lifting the t-shirt that lies over them. I have no idea what I'm doing, but I don't stop myself when my instinct tells me to grab the sides of my panties and slowly bring them down my legs. I lift my feet one at a time, pulling them off until the thin fabric is balled in my fist.

"Open," I order. He sits back on his haunches, and as soon as he obeys, I shove the black lace into his mouth. His eyes slam shut, and he takes a deep inhale through his nose as he whimpers around them. I feel an overwhelming urge to make him pay for what he did to us. Seeing him like this, paired with the amount of power I'm feeling in this position has me so turned on, I can barely see straight. My head is telling me how wrong this is, but my body is saying something completely different.

I open my legs, allowing him to see my pussy, that's probably leaking onto the velvet of the chair already. I wonder if he can tell how hard my clit is throbbing just by looking at it. It's like I'm a completely different person as I bring my hand down and swipe my middle finger down my slit, watching his eyes as they widen.

"Do you miss it?" I ask, using my fingers to spread myself for him.

"Mhmm," he mumbles into the fabric. His breathing is heavy and his face twists in pain when I enter my pussy up to my first knuckle, but he doesn't look away. He just watches me play with myself. I want him to touch me so badly, but I don't know if I'll be able to stop myself from switching places with him, begging him to dominate me like I've craved since the day he left. I'm not sure if I'll ever be ready to do that with him, but right now? I'm too angry. I want him to hurt. I want to humiliate and break him like he did to me.

"Look at you," I mock. "Such a little slut on your knees, begging for the pussy you threw away." I add a second finger, pushing them both inside until my palm is flush with my hot, wet skin. I pump in and out, warmth beginning to coil in the pit of my stomach. "The tables have turned, haven't they?" I breathe. He nods his head, leaning forward slightly, but I put my foot on his chest, pushing him back.

"Uh uh," I scold. "No touching. No smelling. Just sit there like a good boy and suck on my panties while I make myself come."

I've never touched myself in front of anyone. I suggested it to Cash once, but he was always threatened by anything that made me feel good that wasn't him. It's the same reason I was forced to hide my toys in a box under the bathroom sink. It only took one knock-down, drag-out fight about them for me to never acknowledge them again in front of him. He referred to it as a me problem that I needed a little extra help getting off during sex with him. He even told me I needed to talk to a therapist when I suggested trying out different types of bondage or impact play. So, I made it easier on us both by faking orgasms, leaving him in bed while I went to the bathroom to shower, and taking care of myself while he unknowingly slept like he didn't have a single fuck to give.

Sometimes it was easy. All I had to do was stroke my clit and think about being tied down and fucked to get myself off. Other times, I'd end up on my knees and elbows, on the floor with a vibrator in one hand and my throat squeezed in the other. In the really desperate situations, I'd close my eyes and bring myself back to the lighthouse, coming almost instantly when I imagined a familiar voice in my head, demanding me to get there. I tried my best to block him out, especially since he was gone and I was with Cash, but I'll admit I don't feel nearly as bad about it knowing that I was more than likely being cheated on for the entirety of our relationship.

Now that I'm looking at the face I desperately tried not to see every time I touched myself, knowing he's really here, on his knees for me, I know it won't take much for me to go over the edge. So, I keep my fingers moving in and out, using my other hand to rub my swollen, sensitive clit.

"Oh my God, yes," I moan, putting on a show. Tanner's teeth are clenched around my panties that are hanging out of his mouth, and I can feel how hard he's breathing as puffs of hot air ricochet off the skin of my thighs. Beads of sweat gather at his temples as he tries his hardest to stay focused on my pussy, barely even blinking while he watches me fuck myself. I can feel my resolve crumbling every time I look at him, and I know I won't be able to go without letting him touch me for much longer. And to be honest, I don't want to.

"You want to feel it?" I ask. His eyebrows pinch in as he nods his head quickly, clearly unashamed at how desperate he looks below me.

"One finger," I tell him, spreading my legs wider. He wastes no time, reaching up and sinking his pointer finger in alongside mine, causing a delicious stretch as I adjust to the new intrusion. I try to hold in my moan, but it's in vain because just knowing a part of him is inside me is so overwhelming, I have to recite the state capitals just so I don't explode right now.

We work together, bringing me to the precipice faster than I've been able to do on my own, probably ever. I'm moaning and grinding into our hands, unabashedly using our fingers to coax my desperate pussy toward release.

"I'm so close," I grit out. "Do you want to feel my cunt suck our fingers in when I come, Tan?"

The corded veins in his neck are visible as he swallows roughly, trying to reel himself back in so he can reply. "Mhmm," he whines into my panties, making my walls involuntarily tighten against us at the sound. I can hear the angst in his voice and breathing, and even though I'd love to keep him inside me, I also want to make him feel even an ounce of the ache I've felt for him since he walked away.

"Too fucking bad," I say, catching him off guard when I shove him back, knocking him off balance. His finger slips from me just as my orgasm hits, my inner muscles contracting around mine as I come on a loud scream. My eyes are closed, and my body is shaking as I work myself through it, only opening them when I've finally started to float back down to earth. My heart is pounding wildly in my chest as I look at Tanner, who's still kneeling in front of me with my panties hanging from his clenched teeth. His posture is slumped forward and his eyes are glazed over with unshed tears of frustration. He looks so small and defeated, but I can't bring myself out of this power-hungry state long enough to show him even a semblance of mercy. At least, not yet.

I lean forward, gripping onto the soaked lace and carefully pulling it from his mouth. I swipe my fingers, that are still wet with my cum, gently across his top lip, allowing him a small taste of my pleasure. He immediately darts his tongue out, lapping it up like he's dying of thirst and it's the only drop of water for miles. My eyes lock onto the motion, and I have to suppress my moan as the reminder of what his mouth is capable of triggers an aftershock that makes my pussy muscles spasm again.

I stare down at him for several more seconds, breathing heavily as the adrenaline rush from my orgasm begins to ebb away. As if a switch is flipped, I snap back to reality in an instant, shaking my head and blinking rapidly as I try to process what I just did. What we just did.

He's still staring at me like he has no clue what the fuck to say or do as I stand from the throne and hightail it out of the room without another word. I run as fast as my feet will carry me, down the hall and into the guest suite, barely even getting through the door before I have it closed and locked behind me. Leaning my back against it, I slide down to the ground, unable to hold myself up anymore with how badly my legs are shaking.

Whatever that was that just happened between Tanner and me, as confusing as it was, was the hottest fucking thing I've ever experienced. But I'm also completely sure I just complicated something that was already fucked up enough to begin with.

Now I have to decide if the way it made me feel was worth having my heart torn from my chest for a second time.