Page 55 of Break Me

DAX

I scoop my unconscious sub into my arms and carry her from the auction room. I had planned on testing her submission more to see if she would obey my final order. I needed to know for sure that her submission was real—not just a product of fear of what a new reality outside these walls might hold.Making her submit to another man because I wanted her to seemed like the ultimate way to test just how deep her submission for me runs.

I had this whole scenario planned, where I’d part her legs and make her keep them parted for me as I played with her clit. I’d toy with her pretty nipples and make her take the pain. Then I’d cut open the piercings and fuck her while she thought I was someone else.

But from the first moment I touched her—hell, from the first moment I saw her sitting there, hooded and waiting—I knew she’d obey. I felt it in her tiny gasps and shudders as I trailed a finger along her skin. She readily opened up for me. I’m not sure she noticed herself, but even her thighs parted slightly. The way she melted into my dominance as I grabbed the back of her neck told me all I needed to know, and the idea that she was submitting like that to another man—if only just in her mind, not knowing it was really me—drove me crazy. And I want to be able to see the sweet submission in her eyes when I claim her body.

So I skipped all those steps, teasing her, rousing her desire, and claiming what belonged to her master.To me.I could have skipped the drugged champagne and the strawberries too and carried her straight upstairs—or removed the mask and fucked her right then and there. But the sight of tears spilling from beneath the leather, wetting her cheeks, was painful to watch. I didn’t want her in more pain. So I decided to end it, quickly and calmly, to let us have a fresh start unmarred by sorrow, hurt, and illusions.

And it’s the right decision. I know it as I carry her up four flights of stairs, and I know it the moment I carry her over the threshold to my quarters. The place seems to brighten as I carry her through the living room area and into my bedroom, and placing her on my bed might well be the best feeling in the world. At least, that’s what I think until I remove my clothes and lie behind her.

A peace unlike any I’ve ever felt settles over me as I nestle her into me and pull the comforter over us. It only takes a few minutes before I feel the drifty waves of sleep starting to tug at me, so I make quick work of removing her clothes and the mask and replacing it with the muzzle. I want her deep in submission once she wakes. There’ll be plenty of time for talking later. I don’t want there to be any doubting who she is or where she belongs. The moment she wakes, I’m claiming her, fully and completely.

But first, I need to rest. And with her tucked into my arms, I get the best sleep of my life.

31

EMMA

A warm sensation heats my skin as I wake in an unfamiliar bed. At first, it’s unsettling. Like something is burning. But then my heart skips a beat as I remember the sensation.The sun.

Peeling my eyes open, I flit my gaze across the foreign room. Stone walls and stone floors surround me, but these aren’t barren and gray like my cell. The walls are painted white, and the floor tiles are beige, shiny, and polished instead of the raw gray ones of the dungeon. There’s even a carpet. And a few pictures on the walls. And most importantly, there’s a window. A wide, arched window that lets the sun pass through the glass and kiss my skin.

An overwhelming sense of relief washes over me. But along with it comes a well of grief as I remember the price of my gain. As the ache in my chest expands, my breathing comes harder, and that’s when I realize I’m wearing a muzzle. Roaming my fingers over the leather, I find that it’s similar to the one Dax made me. Maybe it even is the same one—a piece of him I get to carry. It hurts as much as it soothes me, and my breathing becomes more ragged, making my nostrils flutter as I struggle to draw in precious oxygen.

I move a hand to press it against my tightening chest, and that’s when I notice the restraints. Black leather cuffs locked to a chain. I wouldn’t leave the bed even if I could, afraid to venture into this new world on my own—afraid of what repercussions my new master might impose. But the restriction is oppressive in this new setting. The walls close in as my eyes flit over the room, finding newness and uncertainty everywhere. So I squeeze my eyes shut and try to imagine that I’m in the cell, where I know the bounds of horrors I might encounter. Where I’m safe under Dax’s protection.

I can almost hear him say, “Breathe.” But it doesn’t help. I know it’s not real.

“Breathe,” he repeats in my mind, and his voice seems a bit louder this time. I try to obey, but how can I when it’s just a conjured sound of my overwrought mind? My breaths become a wheezing sound above the mask, and a dizzying sensation clouds my mind.

“Breathe, my sweet sub.” A hand on my cheek makes me yelp, and I shoot my eyes open.

And there he is. The man who has consumed my world. Long, damp hair hangs over wide, muscular shoulders, and a black snake of ink winds its way down his left arm.

It can’t be.

I blink repeatedly, and the image remains.Heremains. Big and strong. In all his naked glory. Devastatingly beautiful and mighty.

He jumps onto the bed, straddling me as he takes my head between his hands. “Breathe,” he demands, deepening his voice to a reverberating force that hits straight into my submissive soul.

I draw in a long, staggered breath through my nose, but I flit straight back into a shallow staccato rhythm.

“Again,” he orders. “I’m your master, and I want you to obey and draw air deep into your lungs.”

My world tilts on its axis.He’s my master. The man who owns me. Body and soul.A warm, hopeful sensation envelops me. It’s his power. His control. It soothes the nervous jitter in my skin and chases away the flaring fear.

I almost can’t believe it, but his eyes say everything. There’s a new purpose to the way he’s watching me. A new depth, full of demand, possession, and care. His bright blue eyes seem to be full of vigor in a way I haven’t seen before, and the strain in his face is gone—a strain I never realized was there.

“I’m your master now,” he repeats, and I think it’s as much to reassure himself as me because his shoulders seem to relax more as he speaks the words.

There are so many things I want to say to him, but even words of gratitude would ruin the moment, so I’m grateful he keeps the mask in place.

“And now, I’m going to lay claim to what’s mine.” He grabs a pair of pliers from the nightstand, and a rush of anticipation flows through me as he moves to sit between my legs, turning his attention to the rings that have kept me untouched for months.

He strokes the waxed skin of my mound softly as he spears me with an intent gaze. “This hole will be as good as new. Tight as a virgin, all mine to break in, like it’s your very first time.”

A heady sensation swooshes through my blood and into my brain. As he leans down and takes one of the piercings between his fingers and positions the teeth of the pliers around it, it feels like this truly will be my first time, in more than one sense. Because I am a new person. No one has touched me down there since I became this new version of myself—a woman who has wholeheartedly accepted her innermost desires and embraced the deep-seated need to submit and follow a strong man. A need that has raged inside me for years.