Page 31 of Trusting Her Bear
“I don’t know that you do,” I reply quickly. “Are you ready for honesty?”
“Yes.”
I look into her eyes for a beat. “I want my mate to give in to me. I want you to look to me for everything, to depend on me, and let me guide you in almost every aspect.” I lean down and grasp the leg of her chair, slowly pulling it around the edge of the table until she is sitting between my spread legs. She sits completely still. “I don’t want to control your life. I value your opinions and independence, but I want all big decisions to be made together after a discussion.” I pull apart her hands, laying her palms flat. “In the bedroom, it’s different. I haven’t had many relationships where I can be my true self. I have needs that most women don’t understand and aren’t willing to try to accept.” My fingers glide down her fingers. “I like complete control when we are together. I need to command and get obedience.”
“Are you a dominant?” she whispers, but her face is open and interested.
“I don’t like labels. Yes, I am a dominant man. I like control, but I think you can like elements of different kinks. As long as both parties are willing, it doesn’t matter if it is defined.” Her heart is pounding; I can hear it and see the pulse in her neck. “Sometimes, I will want to use cuffs, rope, and toys. I will never do anything without your permission beforehand. It is not fun if you are scared or in pain. I don’t enjoy causing you anything but need and pleasure.” Her scent grows stronger. “I may give the orders, but you are ultimately in control.”
I place my hands on hers, palm to palm.
She swallows harshly. “You know about me?”
“I know things secondhand.”
“That’s why you are being so careful,” she guesses.
“I am being careful because we don’t know each other well. I will always give you a choice. I am not demanding that you submit to me before we have a discussion about what we want. When you agree to give in to me, things will be different.”
“I don’t know if I believe you,” she says.
I nod. “Thank you. I want you to always be honest about how you are feeling.”
“Really?” She narrows her eyes.
“Really,” I chuckle.
“I don’t want you to treat me differently because of my past.”
“I know. But I also know it partly can’t be helped. If I move too fast without clarifying things with you, it could cause you to freeze up, be scared, or react with anger and hurt.” I run my knuckles down her cheek. “It would kill me to scare you.”
She leans into my touch. “I like your touch.”
“Good,” I whisper.
“I want more of it,” she confesses.
“I’m glad.”
“I want to tell you.” She takes a deep breath. “I need to tell you about the worst day of my life and the events that followed and made it the worst two months of my life.”
“Tell me. Let me share your pain.”
Her eyes fill with tears, and I want to bring the men who tortured her back from the grave so I can kill them again.
Chapter Seven
Stephanie
“Ihad just gotten my degree in business,” I start softly. Quinn keeps his eyes locked on mine, and surprisingly, it gives me the courage to speak. “I loved working with numbers. It was fascinating to see how a business could grow with my help. My friend got me a job at a bar that was struggling. The owner was nice and willing to give me a chance without real job experience. I got to know the workers there, and one of the bartenders wanted to set me up with her friend. She was a coyote but nice and seemed genuine. I hadn’t been seeing anyone, and I thought, "What the hell.” I no longer see Quinn’s face, my mind returning to that bar and the night that changed my life.
“She gave him my number, and we decided to meet at the bar and decide where to go from there. He was human, so I knew if he was a creep, I could defend myself. I wanted a night to unwind.” I smile softly. “When he came in, I thought he was cute. I mentioned that I thought he looked familiar, but he brushed it off, saying he had that kind of face. We talked, and it felt nice, normal, and he seemed interested in my life.” I laugh bitterly. “I didn’t know that he had definitely been in the bar before. I worked in the office when I was there, so I must have seen him in passing as I came or left.
“I kept asking if he wanted to leave and go to dinner or a movie. He would maneuver around the question. He kept ordering me drinks. I drank everything he put in front of me, and as time passed, my brain was scattered. I couldn’t focus. I was so stupid. I should have smelled something, either the drug or his deception. I just kept drinking them,” I whisper. “He was drugging me.
“I don’t know what drug it was, but I assumed he had to give me large amounts so it wouldn’t wear off quickly with my shifter genes. He put his arm around my waist, and I felt sick and scared. I couldn’t hold onto a thought. I knew it was wrong, though. I tried to push his arm away, but my body wouldn’t obey my commands.
“He took me outside, and I tried to fight, but it was useless. A car pulled up, and he shoved me in the back and followed me in. There was a man driving. Their words are a blur. I don’t know what color the car was or what the man looked like behind the wheel.” I pause to gather myself to tell the rest.