Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 104165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
When I try to pry Brooke’s arms from around my neck, though, she makes a pitiful noise. I set her feet on the floor, but she immediately collapses to her hands and knees, pushing her face against my legs like a shy child.
… Or like a shy kitten.
Professor Roberts watches on, nonplussed. Her lips purse in thought, but when she next looks up at me, it’s not with the disgust or judgement I expect. “All right. Brooke, we’re going to have Domhnall carry you to the bathroom. Does that sound all right?”
Brooke doesn’t acknowledge her, but when I look down, her big brown eyes meet mine, full of trust. My chest clenches, feeling the connection still between us. Mine. She’s still mine.
It’s a fucked up thought. I’m fucked up.
But for whatever reason, she’s chosen to trust me.
It’s not trust, you fucking bastard.
I manipulated her into bonding to me. I utilized my extensive skills and I did—
I did… what was once done to me.
I was an innocent once, too. So long ago I can’t remember what it felt like. But I was an innocent, preyed upon by a monster.
But I’m the monster now.
I swallow hard and sweep her up into my arms. I feel my monstrous insides pulsating, shameful and disgusting, as it stretches its claws around her. But she just curls against me with the trust of a newborn babe.
She loved me the same way that summer. Thirteen. Jaysus fecking Christ. Four years between us isn’t that much now, but when I was seventeen?
He was making a monster of me even then and I didn’t fucking know it. Stamping me with his soiled touch in a way I’d never get off. It doesn’t matter that he’s dead. The disease of him lives inside me, poisoning me into the fucked up, wrong thing I am today.
Brooke clutches my neck tighter, face nuzzling in as if she can sense the war inside me.
Fuck.
None of it matters.
All that matters is the sub in my arms now.
Subs come first.
Take care of the sub at all costs. Those are the rules.
Caleb jogs in front of Professor Roberts and I towards the elevator. He’s been to my house for a few events before but never to my bedroom. Still, he knows most of the bedrooms are upstairs and hits the up button. I see Professor Roberts eyebrow lift when she sees the personal elevator. Did she not pay attention to the address when she pulled up? They don’t call it Billionaire’s Row for nothing.
I punch in the keycode, and we ride up to the third floor, my personal floor, and I lead them to my bedroom. Brooke nuzzles me the entire way. Caleb hurries to the ensuite bathroom to turn on the bath.
“I’ll take it from here,” Professor Roberts says. I know it’s right that she should.
But then Brooke makes that pathetic noise again and clings tighter to my neck.
I squeeze her possessively to my chest and shake my head. “I don’t think my kitten wants that. Thank you for your help, Professor Roberts, but I’ve got it from here. I’ll give my good girl proper aftercare and get her to bed.”
Professor Roberts’s eyes go hard. “Where? In your kennel downstairs?”
Brooke’s fingers dig into my neck. She can sense the other woman’s anger. She’s so sensitive right now, like all her nerves are frayed and she’s reactive to the tiniest shift of mood around her.
“Shhh,” I say, running my palm over her head, cupping her to me. “Pet will sleep in my bed tonight after the bath.”
“Really?” Brooke says, lifting her head from my chest to look me in the eye.
I’m so gratified to hear her voice that I barely notice Professor Roberts and Caleb taking a step back in the background.
Brooke actually talking must have proved something to the Professor if she’s finally backing off. I have no doubt she’ll be watching my every move on the cameras from now on, but I don’t give a shit.
I’m lost in Brooke’s pleased, surprised eyes. She might still be in a dissociative state, but at least she’s mostly making eye-contact instead of staring off into nothingness.
“Really,” I smile gently, trying to rebuild trust with her. The real kind, if that’s even possible at this point. It doesn’t matter, though.
All that matters is pulling her back from the brink. The Professor said aftercare could provide a bridge back to reality. So I’m going to give the best aftercare any dom ever aftercare’d.
“You’ll get to snuggle side by side with me in my arms. It’ll be warm and safe. But first, let’s get you cleaned up, all right?”
Brooke nods, still not losing eye contact with me.
That’s better. When she’s in full-on kitty mode, there’s no eye contact.
“I’m going to carry you to the bathroom now.”
She nods, staring at me as if mesmerized. There’s still something not quite right in her eyes. She looks spacy. Not quite here with me.