Highest Bidder Collection - Lauren Landish Page 0,61

I could see that she so badly wanted to confide in me, but she didn’t.

What I don’t know is why. Why hide it? Did she think it was truly unnecessary, and that her past has no bearing on our current relationship? That’s possible, and I was hopeful. But her current state begs to differ.

“Tell me, treasure,” I say and gently press my lips to her forehead. My words fall into the space between us, “Tell me why you kept this from me.”

She stills in my arms. I don’t want to push her. Trust takes time, but I want this from her. I need this, or I won’t be able to continue the way we were.

I need to know what I’m doing isn’t hurting her.

“It doesn’t matter.”

Her words are hollow and soft. Her voice is chilled with the sadness that’s echoed in her body language as she tries to push me away.

I let her. She’s not going anywhere. She’s stuck in this room with me and she can turn away from me and hide for the moment like she’s been doing, but she’s not leaving.

She doesn’t have to tell me just yet. But I’m not going to let her lie. Not to me, and not to herself.

“It does matter,” I say and brace my arm around her body, caging her in slightly and refusing to let her move away any farther. “You don’t have to tell me any more than you want, but whatever comes out of your mouth needs to be the truth.”

Dahlia hides her face from me, burying herself into the mattress. I’ll allow it for a moment. I forced her to open up to me, but I can only push her so much. If she keeps running, it’ll force me to break her. She can’t hide from me. I won’t allow it. Not when it comes to this.

“You aren’t broken.”

Her eyes whip to mine. Red-rimmed and her cheeks tearstained, even in such distress she looks beautiful. Maybe even more so because of it. “I am,” she says and her voice is hard. “I can’t…” her voice croaks, and she trails off. “I can’t get off…”

Bullshit. I know she’s cum for me. I hold in a breath and wait for more.

Her head hangs low and she picks at the comforter, her voice soft as she admits, “I have to feel like I’m being forced.”

I keep my expression neutral, but internally I’m breaking, going over every encounter we’ve had. I can’t remember one time where I wasn’t rough with her. I knew she enjoyed it, but I didn’t consider why. It’s a simple preference for me. And I made the assumption that it was for her as well.

I set my hand down on her hip and scoot her a bit closer to me. As I think of what to say, I remember being gentle with her, early in the morning at the end of our first week. She was sore, and I didn’t want to hurt her.

I suck in a breath, hating that I have to ask, but already knowing the answer.

“You’ve only cum for me when I was harsh with you?” She tenses under my embrace, but I continue to hold her.

“Yes,” she softly whispers.

I feel sick knowing, hearing her confession. I took pleasure and failed her as a Dom.

“I’m sorry, treasure, I didn’t know.”

I fell asleep holding her, after causing that. Leaving her unsatisfied, but even worse, with a trigger of what happened to her. Completely unaware. I know I’m a selfish man, but I’ve never felt it quite like I do in this moment.

“It’s fine,” she says, once again refuting the truth.

“It’s not fine,” I whisper, shaking my head gently. She doesn’t hold my gaze, and her shoulders hunch forward. That never should have happened.

I consider my next words carefully. “Are you happy with not being able to find your release any other way?” I ask her. However she chooses to cope is just that, her choice. But this wouldn’t be upsetting her so much if she was happy. I just need to hear her say it.

She shakes her head and looks up at me with pure vulnerability in her eyes. Tears fall down her cheeks. “No, no, I don’t want this.” I pull her soft body into my chest and hold her while she cries harder than before.

“Have you talked to anyone about this?”

“I have a therapist,” she says, wiping under her eyes. I lean across the bed and grab a few tissues for her. She