Demand (Careless Whispers #2)(54)

“What are you doing?”

“Turning this f*cking song off.”

“No! It was working. I need to do this. For us. For you. For me.”

“I don’t care if you ever f*cking remember him.”

“I have to remember him. The time bomb that is my mind will haunt us both, and I don’t want that.”

“It’s only a time bomb because you say it is.”

“In my gut, I am certain that we need to know who that man is—and tonight is all about taking control. You said that yourself. We’re taking control, and we’re doing it together. So take it with me now. Help me go to those bad places and face them. Re-create what this song is to me.”

He stares down at me, the seconds ticking by like hours, his expression unreadable, until I can’t take it anymore. “Kayden—”

“Why are you on your knees?” he demands.

“I was acting out the flashback.”

“Tell me about that memory,” he orders softly.

“Do you really want to hear this?”

“Yes,” he insists. “I absolutely do, but only if you want to tell me.”

“I don’t even want this part of me to exist—but if I don’t tell you, I can’t ask you to help me face it.” I inhale and let it out. “He made me undress while he did not. That’s how he operated. He wanted me to be exposed and vulnerable. Once I was naked, he ordered me to my knees and stood above me, watching me.”

“What did you feel?”

“At that point, I knew he was dangerous. I played submissive to survive, while I was plotting an escape. I think . . . I did escape.”

“What did you feel, Ella?”

“Dread.”

His hands come down on my shoulders and he stands, taking me with him. “Whoever he is doesn’t matter. I know Adriel told you about Evil Eye. I know you doubted me—”

“No. No, that’s not it. I was worried about you. I wanted—I want—to protect you.”

“There are many things I want from you, Ella, but protection’s not one of them.” He cups my face. “He doesn’t own you. He doesn’t own your past. He damn sure doesn’t own me. And he doesn’t even get to own this song.” He turns me, placing my back to his chest, his lips near my ear. “You said I could have everything. Now I’m going to take it.”





fifteen




“Everything, Ella,” Kayden repeats, his fingers splaying wider on my belly, while his other hand moves to my bra, unhooking the front clasp and then flattening between my breasts. “And everything includes your fear, Ella. And the shame I know he made you feel. I’m going to take those from you tonight. I’m going to hold them so you don’t have to. And I’m going to give you permission not to remember, since you won’t.”

Shame. That word radiates through me with cutting accuracy, and I know then that I’ve not even touched where that comes from, or what that man did to me. I squeeze my eyes shut, and for a moment, I’m back in his bedroom, holding that gun, wanting to kill him, and battling a war inside me of right and wrong, and a desire to punish him for punishing me. Emotions well inside me, so many emotions I cannot contain or name, and the stupid music I wish I’d never turned on lifts in the air. Take me to church. I’ll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies.

“Whatever this song means to you,” Kayden declares, his cheek pressing to mine, “it won’t be the same the next time you hear it.” He cups my breasts, his lips dragging down my cheek, to my ear. “And that means I’m going to take you places you don’t know you want to go.”

“Yes,” I say, not because I refuse to remember, but because I hate what it makes me feel. “Take me there.”

He nips my shoulder, a sharp erotic bite that he follows with the pinch of my nipples. “What are you thinking of?” he demands.

“That I want more.”

He runs his tongue over the wounded skin. “And now?”

“That I want your tongue other places.”

He drags my bra off of my shoulders and turns me to face him, reaching down to grip my panties and yank them off, one hand cupping my backside while his fingers slide into my sex. “Now what are you thinking?”

Sensations rip through me and my hand flattens on the hard wall of his chest, my head tilting forward. “I can’t think.”

His thumb twirls against my clit, while the fingers of his other hand tangle into my hair, giving it an erotic tug that lifts my gaze to his. “That’s the idea,” he says. “Don’t think unless it’s about me or us. Just f*ck. And f*ck some more.” His mouth closes down on mine, his tongue licking against mine, stroking it, taking me deeper into the haze of lust and desire.

I lose time, blocking out the song and clinging to him, filling my senses with the taste of him, the masculine scent of him. Then we are on our knees, and he has pressed my hands behind me and onto the carpet in that way he likes to anchor me and take my control. He leans over me, the delicious heavy weight of him pressed to me. He lingers there, the promise of things unsaid and undone between us, and the chorus of the song lifts in the air again.

“Time to go to church, sweetheart,” Kayden declares, his voice gravelly, affected, his hands on my body now, caressing up and down my sides, over my breasts.