Page 25

Colton

When I get back from the offices, Lucas is in the basement working out. Worry trickles into my thoughts. Between training and football practice, he’s already doing a lot physically. I don’t want him to burn out—or worse, hurt himself.

“You okay?” I ask once he finishes a set of bench presses.

“Fine.” He gets up and begins pacing while wiping sweat off his forehead.

“Luc, come on. I may not be Xander, but I know you. Don’t lie to me.”

“Just can’t get her out of my head. Can’t keep myself from slipping up.”

“Slipping up?”

“Wanting to…” He rakes a hand through his short brown hair. “Wanting to be nice to her.”

Ah. I’ve found myself in the same position, but I’m not wracked with guilt over it the way Lucas is. In fact, I made taking care of Haven—which means occasional kindness at least —part of our deal for a reason.

“A little kindness doesn’t hurt, you know,” I tell him. “It keeps her hopes up.”

He narrows his eyes. “So?”

I smile. “It’s easier to manipulate someone who’s hanging on your every word than someone who despises you wholeheartedly.”

That gets him to stop and think. It’s not that he doesn’t—he’s the opposite of the stupid, selfish jock stereotype—but sometimes his past clouds his thoughts.

“Fair point,” he mumbles.

“Now go shower. You shouldn’t be—”

“Can’t.”

I frown. “You can’t shower?”

“Haven is in my room for class. Wanted her to have a place where she wouldn’t be disturbed.”

I sigh. “Fine. But at least stop working out, all right? You’re pushing yourself too hard.”

He rolls his eyes, but he starts unloading the bar, so I count it as a win.

Haven finishes up just in time for Lucas to shower and leave for class. He’ll be back in a couple hours—around the time Xander finishes his classes for the day—and then they’ll both leave for football practice. Xan doesn’t play, but he always sits in on the practices when he can to be closer to Lucas.

I’ve always wanted that kind of bond with someone. Freshman year, I was sure I could build what I had with Haven up to that point, but then she went and fucked everything up. And now…

Now we have her, but we don’t. She’s blocked off certain parts of herself— vital parts of herself. She’s lying. Keeping secrets. Not only do I not want to give her that much space, but she’s withholding information we need to keep her safe. We need to know who we’re up against.

And, more importantly, I want to know why Haven begged Lucas and Xander not to take things further than blow jobs. That’s not the agreement we presented her with, and I’d like to know why she thinks she can change the terms.

So the second I hear Lucas ride off on his bike, I corner Haven in the kitchen. She’s looking through the cabinets, and my eyes fall to her mostly bare legs as she rises onto the balls of her feet.

“What are you doing?”

At my voice, Haven spins around. “Jesus! You scared me.”

“What are you doing?” I repeat.

“Looking for a glass. I’m thirsty.”

I move to the cabinet right next to the fridge and pull out a glass. When she reaches for it, I hold it high enough that she can’t.

“Colton, come on. Can’t you give me a break for a second?”

“Why is sex off the table?”

Haven stares at me for a moment, her eyes bright with shock that quickly morphs into annoyance. “I’m allowed to have boundaries.”

“We laid out the deal for you in extremely plain language. Do I need to spell it out in simpler terms?”

“Are you really telling me there’s no room for negotiations?”

“You don’t have a right to them. You came to us. We make the rules.”

“I’m not fucking you.”

“Oh, trust me, angel. You won’t be the one doing the fucking.”

“It’s not happening,” she snaps. “Now give me the glass.”

I place it back in the cabinet.

“Seriously? Now you’re withholding water? I doubt Lucas will like that.”

“You can drink from the faucet.” A smirk grows on my face. “Or I could put it in a bowl and you could drink it on the floor, just like your smoothie.”

With a scowl, Haven tries to reach past me, but I grab her throat and hold her in place. I like the way my hand looks wrapped around her neck. It reminds me how small she is. Breakable. I could crush her so easily, and she’d be helpless to stop me.

“Asshole,” she grinds out.

“All you have to do is tell me why you won’t have sex with us.”

I’m met with nothing but silence and a glare that, for some reason, makes me want to pin Haven down and kiss her. Hard.

“I just don’t want to.” But her voice wavers.

Lies. Secrets. Too many walls between us.

“I need more than that.”

With a frustrated huff, Haven knocks my hand from her throat and moves to the sink. But when she bends over and drinks from the steady stream of water, I don’t feel satisfaction. Just frustration that she’s holding strong.

“I’d be very careful what choice you make here, angel.”

“Choice?”

I cross the room to her until I’m standing so close that she has to tilt her chin up to look at me. I’m a good head taller than her, and something about that makes my dick twitch. When she meets my gaze cautiously, I let a slow, lazy smirk touch my mouth.

“We can do this the easy way or the fun way,” I murmur, dipping my head low until I can see the near-golden flecks in her dark brown eyes.

At my words, they flash with fear.

Delectable.

One of my hands trails up her back, and I thread my fingers into the hair at the base of her neck. I tighten my grip until she winces.

“Fun for who?” she asks, voice tight.

“Oh, certainly not you.” I pull her head back until her neck is exposed and drag my lips down her throat. When I nip at her collarbone, she jumps. “For every minute you refuse to tell me the truth, I’ll only punish you harder. I’ll have you crying in record time, begging for my mercy.”

Her breaths turn panicked, but she still doesn’t give me a definitive answer.

“Do you think I won’t break you?”

Hesitantly, she shakes her head.

“Good. Because make no mistake about that, little traitor. I will break you. As many times as it takes.”

“I don’t want to be punished,” she whispers.

“Then start talking.”

Desperation dances across her features. Her lips part, but then she seals them shut and drops her gaze. She’s at an impossible crossroads. I can feel it in the air, in the way she tenses.

Haven doesn’t want this—the torture, the punishment. But we both know she wants to cling to her secrets more.

For now.

“Silly, silly girl.” As I say it, I move her head back and forth by her hair. With my grip so strong, she has no choice but to let me, and I take great pleasure in the annoyance that mixes with the pain on her face.

“Please don’t do this, Colton. P-please.”

“So sweet when you beg.” I grin. “Too bad I prefer you screaming and crying while I turn that pretty ass of yours bright red.”

Her eyes widen in shock, but it’s too late. I’m already dragging her through the house, never once loosening my hold on her hair.

“No!” She claws at my arm. “Stop—just stop. You can’t do this.”

“I gave you a choice, angel, and you made your decision. Maybe next time, you’ll take me more seriously.”

Haven is scratching at me and leaving long, red marks up my forearms. When she tries to stomp on my foot, I throw her over my shoulder the way I did the other night. She screeches in protest and pounds her fists into my back, only stopping when I slap her ass as hard as I can.

My plan had been to hold back, but if she’s going to be like this, then fuck that. I spank her again in the same spot, and she cries out, fisting my shirt.

“What the hell?” she seethes.

Ignoring her, I carry her into the basement. It’s fully finished with a private movie room, a home gym, and an open area for hanging out that’s complete with a pool table, plenty of other games, and a fully stocked bar.

But none of that is why we’re down here.

I push through the black double doors that conceal what Xander affectionately calls my torture room. I’d correct him, but… well, he’s not entirely wrong.

Haven lets out a startled squeak as she gets a look around the room. It’s dark in here, only lit by the strip of purple lights running along the perimeter of the ceiling. It makes everything look more intimidating for her, I’m sure.

When I dump her in front of a bed—the tamest piece of equipment in here—she tries to run. But before she’s even on her feet, I have my hand on the back of her neck, shoving her to the floor so she’s kneeling and facing the side of the bed. She goes easily, not from a lack of resistance, but because it takes nothing to throw around.

“Weak,” I taunt. “You’re fucking pathetic.”

“You mother—”

I grab Haven’s shirt and yank it off her body, leaving her fully exposed except for the tiny black shorts we supplied her with. I rip those off next.

“No,” she shrieks. Her arms instantly go to cover herself even though I’m behind her. A sob escapes her mouth, and the terror in it is almost enough to stop me in my tracks.

But there’s a darker part of me, an inner monster that most people can ignore, that latches on to her fear. I want to expose it, exploit it, own it.

I already have the things I’ll need for this laid out on the black sheets. Deep down, I knew Haven would choose this. She’s been hiding something for a long time, and she’ll cling to it until the bitter end. She’ll do the same for what little control she has left, even though she so desperately wants to surrender it.

She needs to be broken, and while she’d never admit it on a conscious level, I know she knows. Unlike me, her inner monster is tamped down. Restrained.

I plan to unleash it.

There’s a pair of leather handcuffs on the mattress. They’re attached to a rope that’s secured to the far side of the bedframe—only one of the restraints I plan to use on her today.

Haven struggles against me, but I manage to get the cuffs on her with little to no effort. She kicks at me, and I click my tongue, scolding her softly. Her resistance fuels me, solidifying in my head that this was the right choice.

There’s a pink spot already forming on Haven’s ass, and I spank her there again as I grab the spreader bar. Her yelp is so sweet, and the sob it’s paired with has my dick hardening beneath my sweatpants.

“Naughty, naughty girl.” Kneeling behind her, I shove her legs apart and secure the leather restraints of the spreader bar to her ankles. Now she’s forced to keep her legs apart for me.

The bed sits low. Lucas suggested I invest in an adjustable one so I can change the height as needed, and it’s one of the best pieces of advice he’s ever given to me.

“Lean forward,” I command.

Haven tosses a dirty look over her shoulder and yanks against her restraints.

“Fine. Have it your way.”

As I stroll to the other side of the bed, I feel Haven’s glare burning into the back of my neck. It only serves in heightening my anticipation for what’s about to hit her. She’s got no fucking clue.

Crouching on the plush rug that sits under the bed, I adjust the rope until it’s pulled so tight that Haven is forced to lay her torso across the bed. Her face hits the mattress, the rope digging into the sheets from how taut it is.

“If you’re smart, you’ll learn your lesson quickly.” I move so I’m standing behind her again. “I’m not someone you want to provoke.”

Kneeling to one side of her, I stroke the black flogger down her bare back. She tenses at the feeling of the long leather falls dragging across her skin. I wonder if she saw this before I forced her down—wonder if she knows what it’s for.

“Last chance. Tell me why you want fucking off the table, and I’ll stop.”

Haven whimpers but shakes her head. Her shoulders and back are lined with tension. She’s bracing herself. Hoping she can make it through this, or that I’ll take pity on her.

Not in a thousand years.

The first time the flogger hits her ass, Haven jolts but doesn’t make a sound. The second, her hands curl into fists. The third, she hisses into the mattress.

“Why?” I ask as the falls make contact with her ass again.

She shakes her head, and her body shakes with a sob.

“Fine, then.”

I don’t relent, taking note of her reactions. Her skin reddens beautifully, and the sound of leather slapping skin lulls me into a familiar place I’ve learned to embrace. The monster in me feasts on the sight of Haven shaking in fear, on her muffled cries of agony.

She’s not used to something like this. A better man would ask her if she wanted this, if she needed a break. Hell, he would’ve given her a safeword.

But that’s not who I am, and she chose to throw herself at my feet anyway. There won’t be any going easy on her.

After a minute, I pause, admiring Haven’s round ass and the dark marks that paint her skin. Naively, she relaxes, and that’s the moment I start up again.

Her screams fill the room, nearly drowning out the sound of the flogger thudding against her skin. The only thing that would make this better is if I could see the tears I know are streaking down her face.

Over the past few years, I’ve gotten my revenge on her tenfold, but that could never stop me. I’ve become addicted to her pain. It’s my own personal drug, one that I’d hide from the rest of the world forever if I could. But even I have my limits, I suppose.

After a particularly brutal sob is ripped from her throat, I pause again. Haven heaves in a breath and claws at the sheets. She’s trying not to cry—I can see it in the way she shudders and drops her head.

“Tell me why, angel.” With my free hand, I massage her ass. “You know I can hold out longer than you can.”

“Just stop,” she cries.

“Give me an answer, and I will.”

“I—” She lets out a sob. “Colton, I can’t.”

“You know that’s not good enough.”

The flogger comes down on her upper thighs, and she twists, trying to curl into a ball. She barely gets anywhere, and then I’m on her, shoving her back into place. With a hand to the back of her neck, I push her face into the sheets.

“I wouldn’t resist if I were you. Seeing you all helpless does something to me, angel. I’m struggling to keep control as it is.”

“This is controlled?” she shrieks.

“Oh, you have no idea,” I say as the flogger meets her thighs again.

I could’ve thrown her onto the bed and fucked her raw by now. Could’ve gagged her, clamped those pretty nipples of hers, and tied a vibrator to her clit until she passed out.

Maybe I am going easy on her.

That thought doesn’t sit well with me, so I pick up my pace, falling into a steady rhythm that turns the backs of Haven’s thighs the same color as her ass. I need her to understand that she can’t beg me for mercy without giving something in return, and I think I need the reminder, too.

“Stop,” Haven sobs.

“You ready to answer me?”

She’s breathing hard, and while I give her a moment to catch her breath, I drag the flogger across her lower back. It’s feather-light, but she still jumps.

“You have five seconds before I start back up.”

She tenses.

“Five.”

“Colton—”

“Four.”

“Please,” she whispers.

“Three.”

Haven fists the sheets and buries her face in the mattress.

“Two.”

She’s shaking her head, something she knows is futile by now.

“One.” I draw back, eyeing her ass.

“It’s always been forced,” she cries.

I freeze, waiting for her to elaborate, but silence fills the room, nearly suffocating me. “What?”

“I’ve never… I’ve never consented to sex. Was always forced into it. Colton, please. Please stop. I can’t take any more.”

“Every… every single time?” I ask, not in disbelief but in shock.

She nods, sniffling.

“How many times?” My voice dips dangerously low.

“I don’t know,” she whispers. “I stopped counting.”

“How many men?”

“Just one.”

“Was it him? The man chasing after you?”

There’s a beat of silence, but then she shakes her head.

Leaning over her, I untie the rope from her cuffs. Before she can try to get away, I’m kneeling beside her, my hand gripping her chin so she has to look at me.

“Are you lying to me?” I ask.

“N-no.”

I don’t believe her.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me?” I grit out. “I would’ve—”

But I stop myself. She’s obviously talking about before we met. There was nothing I could’ve done.

“We both know it wouldn’t have mattered.” She’s shaking, an aftereffect of the flogging she just took colliding with what she’s confronting in her mind. “I tried, Colton. I wanted things to be different with you, I really did. But I—” Her voice breaks, and buries her face in the mattress.

I yank her head up. “No, don’t stop now. Tell me what the fuck you meant by that.”

“I wanted it with you. Wanted to let you in and have that closeness with you.” Tears fall onto her cheeks, and her bottom lip trembles. “But I needed patience. I needed someone to be gentle with me, someone who’d understand that I needed to take things slow. And you… I knew you couldn’t be that for me. Not for as long as I would’ve needed.”

“And how’d that work out for you?” I ask dryly.

“It…” She drops her head. “It didn’t. I’ve tried to get past it so many times, but I can’t. Not with men, not with women. I just… I’m too scared.”

We sit there in silence as I process what she’s telling me. Back when we were eighteen, she trusted me, but obviously not to the fullest extent. She didn’t think I was safe. God, I wasn’t. I’m still not. My impatience has followed me through the years. But… Haven wanted me. Goddammit, she wanted everything with me. She just couldn’t get past her trauma.

Still, that’s not the only thing on my mind. I stare down at her tear-stained face, needing more answers. “How many people have you tried to fuck?”

“I—I don’t know.”

Seventeen. I may not know what happened once they disappeared behind closed doors, but I’ve always kept track. What I didn’t realize was that she never actually slept with any of them.

“And how many of them gave you the patience and gentleness you needed?”

She takes a second to reply, probably tallying them in her mind. The silence irritates me, though, so I slap her ass.

“Colton!”

“Fucking answer me.”

“Seven,” she forces out.

Just as I thought. Haven has been fighting a losing battle against her own mind for years. Patience gives her an escape route, and it looks like she’s taken it every time it was offered.

“But you still couldn’t let them in.” Not a question since I already know the answer.

Haven nods, her gaze lowering in shame. “The girls always understood. Some of the guys did, but I usually had to placate them with a blow job or something.”

“Sounds like it was all for nothing.”

She goes stiff at my hard tone.

“And I think, deep down…” I let my gaze rove down her body. “You know that a gentle touch isn’t what you need.”

“That’s not—”

“You tried things your way. It didn’t work. So now, we’re going to try it my way.”

Her fear is so potent I can almost taste it. “W-what are you talking about?”

For a brief moment, I let her sit like that, her imagination running wild with the possibilities. Her anxiety was one of the first things I noticed about her, and it’s so easy to weaponize against her.

“Colton. What are you—”

“I’m going to destroy you. When I’m finished, there won’t be a single part of you that’s unbroken.”

A new wave of tears floods her eyes, and she shakes her head in desperation. “No.”

“Oh, yes.” I kiss her gently, letting my expression soften. “And then I’m going to put you together again, piece by piece, until you’re thoroughly and undeniably mine.”

Her breath hitches with panic, and when she tries to move away, I hold her still.

“But the best part,” I whisper directly in her ear, “will be the way you thank me for it when I’m done.”