His Only Hope: The Maison Chronicles, Book 2 (13 page)

He jerked back, dropped the crop and tried to catch his breath.

Yeah, like that was going to work. He was flooded with memories of his childhood, of his father’s beatings and his mother’s tears. The tears he knew Hope had cried as Joseph whipped her.

Dammit. He envisioned her begging, crying, then stoically taking the vicious beatings, and it made him cringe in self-loathing. He was no better than that man, taking someone pure and sweet and pushing her limits.

Even if she’d said she wanted to play—hell, she’d instigated it—he was supposed to look out for her. The man’s arrival had just reopened her emotional wounds and here he was, taking advantage of her vulnerability, just like Joseph, just like his father.

With any other woman, he would have demanded she wait longer to give herself time to recover her center before they played. With Hope, the control on which he prided himself fell to the wayside. He wanted her too much to listen to his own reasoning.

What if she regressed? What is she was still flying from their reconciliation and sex last night, so much that it masked her vulnerability?

Worst of all…what if he really couldn’t stop himself when she needed him to?

It stopped him cold in his tracks. There was only one thing to do. He had to leave her—for her own good, before he took more joy from her pain than she was willing to give.

Seeing her jump under his hand was one of the most erotic things he’d ever laid eyes on, second only to seeing her orgasm. With his tenuous hold on control, slipping from the heady excitement of having her back, he didn’t trust himself to stop.

Even if she did.

“Sir?”

Hope’s voice still had that dreamy subspace quality to it. He hated ripping her out of it, but it was his only option, before she went any deeper.

Before she mixed up past and present and saw him not as himself, but at Master Joseph. He’d heard other Doms talking about it, had read about it, and refused to let it happen to his Hope.

It killed him, and might just break her heart, but it was better than continuing and leaving her emotionally shredded due to his actions.

He would not take joy in her suffering when that loomed as a consequence.

Without words, he unbuckled first her ankles then her wrists, lifting her off the cross to cradle in his arms. He wanted to move faster, get the hell out of there, but he needed to get Hope settled.

“Done already?” The question in her eyes asked so much more.

“Yes, baby, we’re done.”

The lump in his chest grew at the sight of the tear stains on her cheeks.
Run, run, run!
He laid her down on the corner bed and she winced. “What hurts?”

She winced again, whether from tenderness or his tone, he didn’t know. “I’m a little sore.” Her gaze locked to his. “But I’m ready for whatever you’ve got planned, Sir. Including thorough aftercare.” Her grin blazed after her words. She truly wanted to be coddled and soothed for once.

The one time he couldn’t bear to do it because if he stayed, he’d never leave her. And next time they played, he wasn’t sure he’d find the willpower to hold back, even to save her from herself.

Once she was situated on the covers, he stepped back from the bed. The lustful look in her eyes faded.

“Oh. We’re…
done
.” She deflated, pulling the sheets over her body as if to protect herself. Seeing that look of defeat on her face hurt more than he wanted to admit.

“I’m—I’m sorry, Hope.” He made for the door, praying she’d be able to forgive him one day.

Hope didn’t think he was serious. Gabe would never leave her without aftercare or without reason. But when the door closed behind him, a shaft of betrayal pierced her heart. The tension, which had melted away under the crop, returned full force, with friends in tow, crushing her under the weight. Hell, she was even too far gone to cry. She lay in bed, staring at the blank white wall, hoping it was all a bad dream.

Chapter Ten

Hope had no idea how long she’d been lying there, only that she hadn’t the slightest inclination to move. After her Sir—no, Gabriel—released her bonds and left, she’d enveloped herself in the cool sheets of the bed to find solace. But only desolation lingered there. She should have been lying there in the loving arms of her Sir, not curled on herself in pain.

As minutes passed, her thoughts darkened. Self-doubt and recriminations replaced any trace of anger or disappointment she had in Gabriel. Things like this didn’t happen twice without some blame laid at the feet of the victim.

Logically, she knew that wasn’t true, but the words circled her head like vultures preying upon the deadened pieces of her heart until all she felt or heard or saw were her failures. She’d been too demanding with Master Joseph and too…needy? Not needy enough with Gabriel. Maybe he sensed how deep her feelings had become. Maybe reconnecting in the first place had been a mistake.

And to top it off, she’d not even been introduced to Ms. Lamont—the only reason she’d come to Maison Domine. The whole weekend was a goatfuck of epic proportions.

But no matter the cause, the pain coursing through her body swamped her, drowned her, intensified with every breath until her vision grew blurry and she didn’t see anything beyond total darkness.

She wanted it to stop.

You need pain to keep you grounded?
the vultures whispered.
Well, here is it. You came seeking pain, and you got what you wanted.

Her shoulders hunched farther and she tightened her body into a smaller ball to ward off the ugly truth. She’d come to Maison this weekend to explore unfinished business with Gabriel, to scene, to siphon off her stress. He’d simply provided her with a convenient excuse to accept his invitation.

A soft knock roused her from a fitful nap she hadn’t realized she’d slipped into. “Ye—” Her voice cracked from the emotions choking her. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Yes?”

“Hope?” A deep male voice resonated through the room and her treacherous heart jumped, thinking Gabriel had returned for her. But she knew that wasn’t his voice.

Slipping into an unaffected persona with the ease of an expert, she replied, “Yes, how may I help you?” As long as she focused her energy on her mask, she wouldn’t be able to think about the pain. She crossed her arms and dug her fingers into her biceps, which siphoned some of her unshed tears into physical pain. Much more tolerable.

“Can I come in?”

Her mind flitted across questions about the mystery man at her door, but she refocused her thoughts to playing happy. Didn’t matter who he was, no one would come through that door until she was good and ready.

“No, I’m sorry, the room is currently in use.” She uncurled and turned to face the door. Her eyes latched on to the St. Andrew’s Cross and her mask slipped before she could shove it back into place.

“I’m terribly sorry to interrupt, but could I at least talk to Gabriel?”

Hearing his name tore at her viciously. A sob leaked from her lips before she could restrain it.

The door opened a few inches, and a sweet female voice drifted to her. “Hope, please let us in. It’s Jax and Lara. We’d like to help.”

Once more, her throat tightened and choked her words. Lara must have taken that as assent because she entered, wearing a corset she recognized as one of Gabe’s designs, followed by the darkly handsome Jax. “We…we thought you’d might need some company.”

Lara’s expression held sorrow and empathy so genuine Hope couldn’t pretend anymore. She started trembling worse than when Master Joseph had lashed her.

Tears rolled down her cheeks, uncontrolled, and Lara said, “You poor thing.” She turned to Jax and he nodded, anger etched into his face.

“I’m sorry, whatever I did,” she said to Jax, his anger raking claws through her guilty conscience.

The lines softened and he followed Lara over to the bed. “No, sweetheart, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

They sat on the edge of the mattress, Jax’s legs extended onto the carpet and Lara’s curled under her.

Lara wiped away the tears on Hope’s cheeks before taking her hand. “Hope, do you want to tell me what happened?”

She felt like a little girl seeking her mother’s comfort, but at that point, she needed someone solid and calm. And Lara radiated peace and happiness underneath her compassion. “I don’t know if I can.” She choked the words out and new tears tracked down her cheeks.

“Then I’ll start, okay?”

Hope nodded. Jax wrapped one large hand around her ankle, and the gesture was oddly soothing. This human connection felt good.

“You and Gabriel came here this weekend for different reasons. He wanted closure, and you wanted to meet Katrina Lamont.”

Hope’s eyes widened. “How…”

Lara’s small grin brushed away more of the weight on Hope’s chest. “We had dinner last week and he couldn’t stop talking about you.” Her grin faded and her blue eyes latched on to Hope’s. “When you left LA, he was devastated. We didn’t talk much while he was in New York, but I know he missed you every day.”

Hope’s heart sank. It was her fault. Lara must have read her expression because she rushed to continue. “I’m not saying this to make you feel guilty. I just want you to know how much he cares for you. And I’m not excusing his behavior, but you deserve to know you hold his heart.”

Her own stuttered at that comment. “Then why…why would he leave me here in the middle of a scene?” Saying it out loud made it more real. She sobbed and prayed that crying would exorcise some of the pain.

Jax’s hand rubbed up and down her calf, and Hope remembered she wore practically nothing. She pulled at the sheet to cover herself up.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Lara said. “I’ve seen it all. Hell, I have it all, and then some extra.”

Her wry smile put Hope at ease. She still draped the sheet over her torso but wasn’t as desperate or frantic to do so.

Lara began stroking her hair, just like Hope’s mother had done when she was young. Just like Gabe did. “I have my suspicions as to why Gabe left you. He’s…” She hesitated and looked up at Jax. He nodded and Lara finished. “He went through a lot as a child. Again, no excuses, of course, but I don’t want you to think this is about you.”

Between the gentle stroking and Lara’s soft words, some of the tension drained from her. The hurt lingered, but it wasn’t a sharp, stinging pain anymore. Her muscles relaxed, her fists unclenched, and she heaved a sigh, releasing some tightness in her chest. “Thank you for coming to me.”

Jax spoke up. “You needed aftercare. And Gabe—” He cut himself off at Lara’s hand on his. “Gabriel was unable to do so.”

She nodded. “How did you know?”

Lara’s lips pursed before she answered. “We saw him outside on the deck, standing in the snow. We’ve been friends long enough to know something was up. Besides, he wouldn’t be out there without you under normal circumstances.”

“I don’t think that’s true.” The knot in her throat reformed.

Jax’s grip tightened. She looked his way and was caught up in his stare. “Yes, it is. That man’s got it bad for you, Hope. I’ve never seen him like this.” He sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. “He better not be an idiot about this for too long.”

Lara took up the conversation. “But until then, you have time to figure out your feelings for him.” She paused and tilted Hope’s chin up to meet her eyes. “Do you have any tender spots?”

She was a beautiful woman, all blue eyes and blonde hair and genuine concern in her face. “Mainly my butt and thighs.”

“Hope, why don’t you let me put some arnica on it, so bruises don’t pop up.” Hope opened her mouth to protest, but Lara cut her off. “No, don’t say you enjoy having the bruises, because until you work things out with Gabe, they’ll be a reminder of what happened. So, c’mon, let’s go.” She turned to Jax. “Will you grab the tube?”

He rose and riffled through one of the storage benches, returning with the arnica. “I’ll step out for a minute.”

While he’d been comforting to have around, having him see her almost-bare ass would have been too much. It was bad enough that someone other than Gabe would see, but Lara had the right idea, so she turned over and pushed aside the sheet. Lara uncapped the tube and as the cool, soothing gel hit her tender skin, Hope thought about Jaxon’s words.

Her mind rebelled against the idea of forgiving Gabe, but her heart leaped at the possibility. And it was her heart that asked, “Do you really think he’ll still want me? I don’t understand why he would have reacted that way—just leaving like that, and while I was sinking into subspace too—but there must be some valid reason. What if, whatever I did wrong, I do it again?”

“That,” Lara replied, “you’ll have to figure out with Gabe. If you’re willing to.”

Hope thought of the pain of leaving him the first time, and of how much more she loved him now. If she left, she would hurt. If he turned her down, she’d hurt. But only one of those options had the possibility for happiness. “Hell yes, I’m willing. He wanted closure? Great. Think forever together is closure enough?”

Lara patted her leg. “Good girl. And you’re all done. There should be some robes in the recessed closet over in the corner, if you’d like.”

Hope stood and thanked her, praying she’d made the right decision to give Gabe another chance.
Ready or not, here I come, Sir.

Chapter Eleven

The third floor of Maison Domine rarely had visitors. Guests were usually too busy socializing or playing to head up there. On the cliffside lay Katrina’s apartment, which took up half the floor. Facing away was a small indoor/outdoor lounge. Occasionally guests would gather there to smoke cigars and relax, but today he was alone. And go figure, it was freezing outside on the balcony, but the cold was a welcome punishment.

Gabe had hoped being alone would give him some insight. Instead, he wallowed in self-loathing. Hated his father for having this much power, Joseph for mirroring his own dark side, but he hated himself more. What kind of Dominant threatened to lose control during a scene?

Nausea swept over him. He grabbed a folding chair from inside and sank onto it in the cold afternoon breeze. Maybe he’d be able to hide out up here until the roads were clear. The couches inside were long enough for him to sleep on, and a bathroom was tucked into the corner. Sounds from the big snow plows already echoed through the mountains, so it wouldn’t be long now.