Page 37 of Beloved Sacrifice


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Chapter Seven

Let go. Let go.

Rose stared at his hand, where his long fingers were still wrapped around her wrist like a manacle. How many times had she been held like this, how many men had grabbed her this same way, sure that she would obey, would submit, because of who she was?

What they’d made her into.

Let go, Wes. Please, let go.

She heard him, understood what he was saying—if he was right about the Trinity Masters having stolen a ship full of wealth that belonged to this Masters’ Admiralty, having proof of that would make them untouchable. They’d be free.

You fool. You’ll never be free. You can’t escape what you’ve become.

She could feel the heat of his body, and perverse, fucked-up creature that she was, she wanted to slip closer to that warmth, yet she also wanted to yank her hand away and deliver the slap.

She was still shaking with shock at what she’d almost done. A submissive never touched a Dom without his permission. She’d almost slapped him.

But oh, she was hurting, as if her insides were filled with glass shards, and every time she breathed, those jagged, sharp edges pressed deeper into her innards, rending more than just flesh, but her soul.

Whatever was left of her soul.

“I’m going to Dorset tomorrow,” he said again.

Yes, Sir.

She bit her tongue to stop the words. His voice carried a tone of command. Was he doing it on purpose? Did he know, did he remember that she couldn’t help but obey?

“Rose?”

His hold on her changed, his thumb rubbing across the inside of her wrist. Could he feel the scars there, from when it had all been too much?

“Safety cuffs.” Her voice was calm, and she was proud of that. She thought it would tremble—she was so cold she was surprised her teeth weren’t chattering.

“What?”

“You had safety cuffs. BDSM-style restraints.” She had to pause to keep her voice level. “I woke up first tied to a chair, and then chained to a bed.”

“I…I wasn’t sure if you’d fight me again. I knew it was going to be a shock when you saw me.”

“BDSM restraints,” she repeated.

“Look at me, Rose.”

It was a command, and she obeyed.

His gaze searched her face. “What are you thinking? What are you asking?”

“Why, Weston? Why do you have those?”

He shook his head. “Nothing nefarious, Rose. They’re just easy to order online, and I knew they wouldn’t hurt you.”

That was a totally reasonable explanation. And she didn’t believe him.

“That’s the only reason?” She whispered the question.

He paused, his good eye sliding away, the lid lowering over the fake eye. “I know you and Caden…I thought you’d feel safe with them. Or at least familiar.”

Her body flushed hot. Her cold fingers and toes tingled as the fire of her rage chased away the numbing cold.

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