Desire Unchained

The whip came down on her bare back, lightly, but it left a pink streak that immediately began to swell into a welt. Runa didn’t make a sound, but he did. Deep in his throat, he cried out.

“Your mom knew. And she did nothing to protect you. Admit it, Runa. Admit it or we’re never getting past this.”

A sob escaped her. “She … I can’t.”

“You can, and you will.” His arm raised again. The tip of the whip left another mark on her back and a much, much bigger scar on his soul.

“Yes,” she whispered. “She knew. She had to. But she didn’t do anything.” A tear rolled down her cheek, and he longed to wipe it away. “Why didn’t she do anything? He hurt me. He cheated on her. He spent all their money on whiskey, even when it meant we went hungry.”

As emotional as her memories were, as good for her as it was to get them out, there was so much more she needed to release. He could feel the darkness in her still, and he couldn’t seem to drop the whip. He was no longer in control of his actions, his body reacting only to her wishes. This had gone past the point of no return, and now the only way to stop this session was for her to speak the safe word.

His arm raised. “Runa, say the safe word.” Nausea roiled in his belly. Please, please say it.

“We’re—” She swallowed hard. “—we’re not done.”

Fuck.

He couldn’t stop himself, and this blow struck near her shoulder blade. He tried to say he was sorry, but the words wouldn’t come. He’d never been sorry before—this was his nature, the kind of demon he was. He couldn’t fight the instinct to cleanse souls any more than he could fight his need to breathe. But this was killing him.

“Where’s the guilt coming from, Runa? The darkness?” His voice was strong, even though inside he was quaking. “I sense it in you. I’ve always sensed it in you.”

She shook her head.

“Tell me!” he snapped.

“I hated him,” she cried. “And I hated her for not leaving him.”

He couldn’t tear his gaze away from the powerful, lean ropes of muscle in her back as they quivered, not with fear or pain, but with rage. “Everyone hates their parents at some point.”

“Not like I did. I wanted her to leave him. I was bad, did things to make him mad so she’d see that he needed to go.”

“You were a child—”

“Stop it!” she screamed. “It was more, so much more.”

An instant urge to comfort her overwhelmed him. He reached for her, but drew his hand back with a hiss.

His hand was invisible. Fucking gone all the way to his elbow. Terror squeezed the air right out of his lungs. He looked at his other hand. And didn’t it just fucking figure that the hand holding the whip was solid as the stone surrounding them.

The muscles in his arm tensed as it began to climb into striking position again. He knew better than to attempt to stop it, but he had to try. He was rewarded with a sensation like scalpels sliding under his skin.

The whip slashed downward, and Runa grunted in both misery and pleasure. Shade’s field of vision began to narrow and mist over as his subconscious took over the work he knew he wasn’t strong enough to handle.

“How was it more?” He heard his voice, all business, totally foreign.

“Mom finally gave him an ultimatum, and he got sober. Turned into a model husband and dad. But it was too late.” She made a strangled sound of anguish.

Shade stepped close, his entire body shaking as he brushed his lips over every pink mark he’d made in her gorgeous skin. “Why was it too late?”

Please, Runa, talk. I don’t want to have to do it again.

“Because I already hated him,” she moaned. “I was sixteen. I caught him with another woman.”

Shade’s pulse rate shifted into overdrive. They were at the precipice now, and he could feel the guilt and blackness rise up, holding her in its grip but not quite ready to be banished.

“What did you do?”

“Arik begged me to not tell, but I did. I did and I enjoyed the knowledge that I’d be breaking my mother’s heart … oh, God, I enjoyed it!”

The force of her guilt ripped into him. “Did you succeed in breaking up your parents?”

She nodded. “My mom … she killed herself. But it was for nothing, Shade.”

His blood ran cold. “Why?”

Her head dropped forward and her shoulders slumped, and how she remained standing on her feet was beyond his comprehension. “He was dying. And … and he told me that when I saw him with the woman, he was ending things. My mom … oh, God, Shade.”

“What is it?”

Runa sobbed. “She didn’t need to know about the woman. It was over and had been for a while. If I hadn’t told her …”

“Runa, you can’t blame yourself.” The words were lame, probably the same ones she’d heard from her brother over the years, and they hadn’t worked so far.

Only one thing would, and his blood chilled when she asked for it.

“More, Shade. Please, more!”