Bought: Highest Bidder(33)

"Good, good. I'm glad you're doing okay, honey. I've been worried about you."

I smile. Mom seems like she's called me with genuine concern. I open my  mouth to start telling her about my situation, when she cuts me off  with, "I got your text." Her voice has dropped several octaves,  signaling that her mood has shifted. "I can't really help out in the  money department right now," she finishes.

If it weren't so sad, I'd laugh. Figures she'd call when I most likely  won't need the help. I part my lips to tell her I should be set for a  pretty good while, but then close them, realizing it's probably not  wise. I shouldn't tell her about the money, which I haven't received  yet. Knowing my luck, she'd try to ask me for some, claiming I owed her a  cut for birthing me into this world. And that money is just enough to  pay off all my debt. Every cent of it. After taxes I'll have a little  left over while I'm waiting to start a real job, something that'll  actually pay me. "That's alright, Mom. I worked things out with the  school and everything will be fine."

"Oh honey, I'm so happy for you," Mom says, zero happiness in her voice.  "I'm so glad you were able to fix things, I really hated having to turn  you down."         

     



 

I want to say something nice in return, but I can't find the words. She really doesn't give me much to work with.

The call goes silent except for the atmospheric static.

"I'm going to see Todd for Christmas," Mom announces when the silence stretches past fifteen seconds.

I perk up at the news. Even though I'm upset with her, I would love to  see her. So much has gone on in my life since we last talked, it would  be nice to enjoy each other's company. And I still haven't met Todd. I'd  like to though. It seems like this must be serious between them.

"Do you want me to come, too?" I ask. In the back of my mind, I'm  thinking about Lucian. Our thirty days will be over soon. My heart hurts  thinking we could be over, too. Even if we aren't, I don't know if he'd  want me around. After all, I'm his Sub. I have to keep reminding myself  that.

And he has his own family, I tell myself, remembering the sister he's  mentioned to me that he cares so much about, even though he hates his  parents. It's something else we have in common. He feels like his  parents have done him wrong and I feel likewise, and we both have such  screwed-up pasts, though I'd argue mine is a bit more screwed-up than  his. Well maybe not more, but different. I almost huff at a humorless  chuckle at the thought. Still, Lucian's past gives him special insight  on my problem, helps him understand me. He knows what it feels like to  be hurt by someone who claims to love you, to be betrayed by the very  people you trust.

I hear my mother suck in a breath, bringing me back to the present  moment, followed by a long pause. "I don't think Todd wants anyone else  coming," she finally admits.

I sit there numbly, letting her words sink in. Why am I not surprised? I  should've known better than to ask a question like that. At least she  told me ahead of time. For Thanksgiving she told me she was spending it  with Todd only a few weeks in advance, too. But that's Thanksgiving, not  Christmas. There's a big difference. At least to me there is.

"Oh, that's okay," I say evenly. I'm not going to break down over this.  I'm not going to break down over this. I have to repeat it over and over  in my head.

"I'm really sorry, honey." Surprisingly, I detect faint emotion in her  voice. I ignore it, along with my own emotions threatening to consume  me.

"It's okay, really. I understand." My voice is even, practically robotic.

"I'll talk to you soon, okay? I have a plane to catch."

"Yeah." Before I can get in another word I hear the line go dead.

Click.

I sit there for a moment, staring at my desk, feeling empty inside. If I  could've gotten over leaving Lucian for a while, this would've been the  perfect time for Mom and I to bond, for her to listen to me and give me  advice on my problems. But that was a fool's fantasy. She hasn't been  here for me for so long, and she's not about to start now. I need to get  over it and let her come to me when she's ready.

For now, I'll just stay at my apartment for Christmas.

Alone.

Gathering my things, I walk out of my office and head down to the first floor, feeling the unhappiest that I've felt in a while.





Chapter 23





Lucian





She's late. I came in, and somehow I already knew. When I opened the  door and saw the empty bed, my breathing slowed, my blood cooled. Anger  wasn't there, but fear was.

She's left me. I'm still standing in the doorway, trying to convince  myself that I'm wrong. I know I am. I paid for her. She can't leave me.  My heart thuds once. She doesn't care about the money. She never has.  Not once has she mentioned it. But still. She's not leaving me. My own  insecurities are creeping in, and I shove them away.

She's mine. I can take care of her. I am taking care of her. I nod my head and turn from the room.

I let it resonate through me. She's coming. She'll be here. I calm my  racing heart and slowly close the door with a gentle click. My palm  presses against my pocket, but it's empty. I clear my throat and make my  way toward the stairs with a hard expression, devoid of all emotion. I  left my phone on the foyer table, but I don't need it. As I hit the last  step, I hear the keypad rejecting an entry.

My treasure. I imagine she's panicking in this moment. As I walk to the  door, my phone goes off. I stare at it, my hand hovering on the  doorknob, but it doesn't matter what her excuse is. She's late.

I open the door, my expression stern and her body jolts some. Her breathing is coming in quick as she takes a half step back.
         

     



 
"Lucian, I-"

"Sir," I correct her with a hard voice. My grip on the door tightens as  she stares back at me with her mouth slightly opened. The lines are  blurred, and that's obvious. But I'm still her Dom, and she's late and  she's hesitating.

I open the door wider and she walks in quickly with her head down. "Thank you, sir," she says uneasily.

I should take her upstairs, but I can't wait. I need her now.

My fingers deftly unbuckle my belt as I walk to the living room. I stand  by the sofa and wait for her eyes to reach mine as I pull the belt from  the loops. "Strip and bend over," I give her the command and lust  covers her expression. She's quick to do exactly what I tell her.

Every second that passes my blood gets hotter, my cock harder. Her heels  slip off her feet as she shoves her dress down. She doesn't hesitate to  bare herself to me and bend over the arm of the mahogany leather sofa.  She has to balance herself on her toes as her upper body lays flat on  the cushion. Her hair fans around her and she looks back at me, the  perfect picture of obedience.

My dick pushes against my zipper as I fold the belt in my hand. I run it  along her spine and trail it slowly down to her ass. Her eyes close,  and she lets out a mix of a whimper and a moan.

"Why are you being punished?" I ask her.

"For being late, for addressing you incorrectly, and for disappointing  you and forgetting my place, sir." I close my eyes behind her and let my  head fall back.

Perfection.

She's so fucking perfect. I pull back my arm and quickly lash the belt  across her ass. It hits her with a loud smack! and she lets out a small  scream as her hands ball into fists in an attempt not to cum.

"Count them, treasure," I say calmly.

"One, sir," she says loudly.

Smack! I aim just below the soft curve of her ass on her upper thighs. I  pull back the blow slightly, knowing it'll be more tender.

"Two!" she yells with her face scrunched up, but her pussy clenches and her mouth opens with desire.

Smack!

"Three," she whimpers.

This one is higher, in a fresh spot and she pushes her ass up to meet  the blow. I steady my hand on her lower back to remind her. She needs to  be still. The belt whips through the air. Smack!

"Four, sir." Four is good. Four is more than enough. She writhes slightly and bites down on her lip.

I drop my belt to the floor, the buckle making a loud clank, and gentle  my hands over the marks on her ass. The red lines are slightly raised,  and Dahlia seethes in a breath as I press my hand against the hot marks.  She presses her ass into my touch and struggles to keep her body from  squirming with pleasure. I've administered the perfect amount of pain to  give her the endorphin rush she needs.

I eye them carefully, making sure they won't bruise and there are no cuts. Just four parallel red lines.

I lean forward, my hard dick nestled in her pussy, the fabric of my  pants separating our hot skin. I graze my teeth along her naked shoulder  and nip her earlobe. My hand travels along her waist, her stomach, up  to her lush breasts and I squeeze gently and then pinch her nipple as I  kiss her lips. Her mouth opens as I pull slightly, my other hand  traveling to her soaking wet pussy.