Protege(77)

“She’s—” He turned and stilled, spotting her just out of Brys’s line of vision at the top of the stairs. She looked stunning, her lips parted and her breath coming quickly. She’d likely heard everything he’d said and was relieved. “Where she is isn’t your concern. You only need to know that your service is no longer needed. I thank you for your help and apologize for any inconvenience. Now, if you’ll excuse me—”

“This is bullshit. I want to speak to her—”

Brys moved to push the door open and Jude caught his arm, his grip unbreakable. “You will do no such thing,” he snarled, his voice laced with the unrefined necessity to protect her. “This is my home and she’s mine to protect. If you think for one moment I’d let you approach her while your control escapes you, I seriously question your judgment. Now, I will only ask one more time that you remove yourself from my property and enjoy the rest of your night. Next, I’ll be telling you, and you’ll realize just how much you’ve underestimated the authority I hold.”

He released his arm and Brys jerked it back with a scowl. “Others will hear about this.”

“Good. Then they can inform you just how insane it is to question my edict. You’re here at Fernweh because I allow you to be, Brys. Never forget that. Good night.”

He shut the door and waited a beat for his temper to cool. Her steps echoed as she slowly came down the stairs. Without turning to face her, he sensed her approach. She waited for him to address her, her control and patience again impressing him.

Her trust seemed impermeable, her devotion evident in everything she did. He’d never known a submissive with such a specific desire to please him, not just a generic authority figure setting demands. Her effort was for him. It was intoxicating to be handed such a priceless gift.

He wondered if time would present an inconsistency in her devotion, feared it might. But the unequivocal truth was that she said she loved him and he was starting to believe she actually did. It was believable, because it was becoming clear that he was definitely falling in love with her.





Chapter Eleven


Collette wasn’t sure what was happening. She never saw him act so passionately forceful. Every submissive part of her wanted to go to him in that moment, collapse to her knees, bare and exposed, and present herself to him. But the way his shoulders shook with each breath, and the fact that he had yet to face her, gave her pause.

She waited, dressed in the clothes she’d packed from home, as everything she wanted seemed so close yet still out of reach. He’d said she was staying. That was what she was sure she heard, but the longer he stood with his back to her, facing the door, the more her mind started to play tricks on her.

She wondered if she’d misinterpreted his meaning. It was too much to depend on without some sort of promise from him, anything that told her he’d let her stay for the last two weeks.

“I’m not an easy man, Collette,” he murmured.

She didn’t respond because she sensed there was more.

“I can only teach you so much before my personal judgment skews what should be solely about you and your desires, your experiences. I’ve never done this before and it’s more challenging than I anticipated.”

Her chest lifted with each deep breath. “Then show me how to be what you want,” she suggested softly. “It doesn’t have to be only about me and what’s on paper.”

“You’re asking for something that’ll be impossible to reverse. Once I make this about me, I won’t stop. I’m greedy and my demands are more than what you’ve experienced. It’ll become real.”

That was all she’d been after. This superficial aftertaste of everything thus far, his constant detachment and insistence that she stay attuned to the fact that this was only temporary, was agony. Maybe everything wasn’t a science or a mathematical equation based on percentiles and fetishes. Maybe there was actually such a thing as love. A need so great it made compatibility possible, even when people were polar opposites.

There were exceptions to every rule. “I understand,” she said.

He sighed and held out a hand, still not facing her. Her feet moved slowly and her arm lifted. Her fingers glided against his as she squeezed. And then the world tilted on its axis and everything came tumbling down in beautiful, chaotic disarray.

Twisting, he jerked her to his chest. His mouth crashed over hers, devouring and demanding as he curled her into his body and pressed her against the door.

His hands were everywhere, tearing at her clothes, shoving down her pants and panties. She’d never been stripped so fast in her life. His clothes were yanked out from under her grip as he tossed them away.

Every time their mouths ripped apart he came back to her twice as hard, as though he had to make up for that little blip of lost time and catch everything he released before it slipped out of reach.

His palm crushed her breast as he shoved his thigh between her legs. Tearing his mouth away, he abruptly turned her, pressing her palms against the door and stretching her arms high over her head.

His knees urgently knocked at the space between her own and her feet stepped out. Her palms remained planted high on the door as he gave them a warning press. He spread her folds and filled her in one swift thrust, causing her to rise on her toes and cry out his name.

His hand traveled up her belly, pulling hard at her waist as he thrust again. He groped her breasts, bit her shoulders, and squeezed the flesh of her thighs. She’d never been taken so roughly in her life, nor had she ever felt so wanted, so possessed, so needed.