Page 16 of Absolution (Favorite Malady Trilogy #3)

ABIGAIL

M y heart squeezes into a small, painful ball. Dane put a tracker in me, and it’s my worst nightmare realized. He truly does see me as nothing more than a wayward pet, a possession.

How can we build a life together if he doesn’t see me as an equal?

The pain of loving him cuts deeper than any knife, spearing me all the way to my soul.

Because even as the full horror of what he’s done crashes down on me, I still love him. My addiction to this man will be my ruin.

He’ll never love me the way I love him. I’ve known that he’s incapable of it, but I accepted his unique brand of obsession instead.

I’ve always been drawn to danger, to thrilling fear.

And now I’ve married the most dangerous man I’ve ever met.

“How could you do this to me?” I ask in a horrified whisper. “I’m not actually your pet, Dane. I won’t let you treat me this way.”

He tugs on my hands, pulling me closer despite my revulsion. His eyes are dark with desperation.

“I know you’re not my pet,” he says, deep voice ragged. “I did it because I was terrified of losing you. I never knew what fear was until the day I thought you might die in my arms.”

Tears blur my vision. “I have to have a choice. You have to let me choose you, or this isn’t real.”

He cups my cheek. “You are the only real thing in my world. You’re all that matters to me. I was wrong to put the tracker in you. I can see that now, and I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry I disrespected you like that.”

Just as hope buds in my chest, his jaw tightens with determination. “But I can’t take it out. I will never put you at risk. I have to be able to find you if you need me. I have to know you’re safe.”

“I don’t want that kind of protection,” I protest.

I don’t want to think about how dark things were between us when he kidnapped me. This new revelation is stirring thorny issues that I haven’t wanted to deal with.

Like a fool, I followed my heart and married my stalker. We’ve never really discussed what he did to me, even if he has apologized.

“You could’ve been killed today,” he growls. “I won’t let anyone take you from me.”

My heart twists. It’s always about what he wants.

He’s warned me so many times about his selfishness. I’ve never acknowledged the full, horrific extent of it.

“If I wanted to leave, would you even let me?”

His features turn stony, and his eyes flash with something like panic. “Do you want to leave me?”

“I want to be together,” I confess through my constricted throat. “But I can’t if you don’t respect me.”

“I do respect you,” he vows. “How can I prove it to you? I understand that I’ve wronged you, but I have to protect you. I don’t know how to fix this.”

He looks…lost. My wickedly clever Dane doesn’t have an answer to a problem, possibly for the first time in his life.

I consider him for a long moment. If I think about the situation rationally, I have to acknowledge that I probably wouldn’t be alive right now if it weren’t for the tracker. He was able to get to me in time because he knew exactly where I was.

But I can’t abide the imbalance between us.

“You will get one too,” I declare. “If you know where I am every second of every day, I will have the same privilege. I mean it when I say we’re equals. This is how you prove it to me.”

For a moment, his jaw drops in shock, and I worry that he’ll refuse.

Then his sensual lips twist in a wicked smile. “Are you that obsessed with me, little dove?”

I scoff. “Are you really teasing me about this? I’m serious, Dane.”

“So am I,” he replies, voice dropping to something more solemn. “I will gladly have you track my every move. I want you to be able to find me too. You can come to me anytime you want.”

I cross my arms over my chest and raise my brows expectantly. “Do it right now.”

His smile tilts. “My queen is so demanding.”

I flush at the new term of endearment. He’s never called me that before.

He brushes a kiss over my knuckles, every inch my white knight. “Anything for you, Abigail.”

I keep my shoulders straight. I won’t let him distract me with his charms or his perfectly beautiful face.

“Are you going to order one or not? I don’t know where you even get something like that, but I’m assuming you can do it again. I want to see you order it.”

“I have a better plan,” he says with that impossibly handsome, cocky smirk. “How about you inject it into me right now?”

I gape at him. “You have another one?”

He shrugs. “I wasn’t sure if the first one would work. I have a backup.”

The admission that he was so determined to track my every move should cool my affection for him. But he’s offering for me to do the same to him with such eagerness that my fears are allayed.

Something hot and savage heats my chest, an almost feral possessiveness I’ve never known before. It’s probably twisted and toxic, but I don’t care.

Dane is mine.

He takes my hand and helps me to stand up from my perch on the edge of the bathroom counter. We walk into the bedroom side by side, and I can’t stop staring at his perfect profile.

He shoots me a devastating grin and opens his sock drawer.

“Really?” I ask. “That’s where you’ve been storing a tracking device?”

He shrugs. “I don’t expect my wife to wash my socks for me. I wasn’t concerned about you rummaging around in here.”

He retrieves what he needs and then leads me to the bed. We both sit on the edge of the mattress, and I watch with rapt fascination as he sets up the syringe and tiny bead that will allow me to track his every move.

The moment seems surreal, but when he presses the syringe into my hand, I don’t hesitate.

He rolls up his sleeve and indicates a spot on his upper arm. “Right here. Not too deep.”

His long, elegant fingers gently close around mine, and he directs the needle to the correct location and angle.

Then his emerald eyes meet mine. “Are you ready?”

I nod. “You’re mine, Dane Graham.”

He grins at me, and he appears almost drunk on pleasure.

“Oh yes, my queen,” he agrees. “All yours. Forever.”

I flush with my own pleasure, and then the tracker is lodged beneath his skin.

“Perfect,” he praises. “Good girl.”

The dichotomy of the diminutive term with the reverent endearment of being his queen makes my insides molten. With Dane, I’m worshipped and cherished, but I’m also owned, body and soul.

Now, I own him too.

Our bond is twisted and probably wrong, but I don’t care. As long as I can have my dark god, that’s all that matters to me.

He sets the syringe on the nightstand so that he can pull me in for a deep, hungry kiss. I stake my claim with my teeth, and he groans against me. He doesn’t rebuke me for my ferocity; he seems to revel in it.

We tear at each other’s clothes. Within a few frenzied minutes, I’m naked, and he’s shirtless. Before I can remove his pants, he places his big hands on my shoulders and breaks our kiss with a firm shove. My shocked gasp turns into a delighted giggle when my back hits the soft mattress.

I reach for him, but he shakes his head with a small, regretful smile. “Patience, little dove. I don’t want to fight you today.”

“I don’t want that either.” I relax, waiting for his next move.

After the intense fear and anguish of the afternoon, I want to be intimate with my husband. I don’t feel like engaging in a power struggle with him right now. All I want is to hold him and have him hold me, but he has other, more wicked ideas.

He ducks into the closet for a moment, and when he comes back to me, he’s holding a thick, black wand with a cord attached.

At first, I think it’s a vibrator, but it doesn’t have a rounded head.

Instead, he inserts a narrow, rounded plug into it that’s attached to a long cable that ends in a metallic silver plate.

“What’s that?” I ask, curious but also slightly anxious.

The little thrill of fear fizzes through me, fueling my mounting lust. I’m already wet and ready for him, and my inner muscles contract in anticipation of his cock.

“It’s a violet wand,” he replies, as though that explains everything.

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“You’ll see, my curious pet.”

He tucks the metal plate beneath his waistband, so that it’s secured against his hip.

I watch his strange actions, puzzled.

He drops a quick kiss on my forehead. “Trust me.”

“I do,” I say with the weight of an oath.

His smug smile is a touch triumphant, and I grin at him in return.

Then he plugs the wand into the power socket beside the bed and sets it down on the nightstand.

His flashing green eyes pin me like a butterfly. “Are you ready?”

I lick my lips. “Ready for what?”

His smile turns cruel. “For whatever I want to do to you.”

I lift my chin and open myself to him, allowing him to look straight into my soul. “Yes, Master.”

“Stay very still for me,” he commands, slowly lowering his hand toward my forearm.

My brows knit together in the long seconds it takes for him to bridge the gap between us. My entire body coils tight with anticipation, and every inch of my flesh comes alive for him. My skin seems to crackle and dance, but in the moment his fingers near my arm, real sparks fly.

I shout more in shock than pain when electricity arcs between us in a sizzling, tiny lighting strike. He closes the small space that separates us, and the moment his skin makes contact with mine, the spark disappears.

“What…” I gasp for breath. “I don’t understand.”

“As long as I’m touching you, we’re grounded to one another,” he explains. “But if there’s a small gap…”

He withdraws, and another sharp spark dances between us. It tingles and burns, and this time, he allows it to linger for several seconds. He splays his hand, and each finger becomes electric, stroking my arm with sizzling pleasure that rides the edge of pain.

I wriggle for a moment, overwhelmed by the strange, novel sensation.

His touch trails up my arm, raking hot lines along my sensitized skin.

“I feel it too,” he rumbles.