Abby was so mad that she could spit. How dare he. How dare he behave like a total jerk just because a guy was nice enough to offer her some help.

She seethed silently as they took the elevator to the top floor. She kept her lips firmly shut as the walked up the stairs to the landing outside their apartment doors. She didn’t say a word as she unlocked her door and crossed the threshold. When he followed her inside, she turned on him.

“What the ever-loving hell was that?” she spat at him as he closed the door to her apartment and placed her bags on the floor.

“I saw you, Abigail,” he said, his voice just as angry as her own. “I saw him put his hands on you, I saw him make you laugh, I saw him look at you and I wanted to tear him limb from limb.”

Abby was speechless at the venom in his voice and the anguish on his face.

“It was nothing, it was innocent—”

Mason stepped into her personal space, his blue eyes like glaciers. “He had his hands on you—”

“Helping me to my feet,” she said, forcing down the tiny fission of fear she felt at his fury, “Checking that I was unhurt.”

He didn’t step back, but his posture changed, became less angry but no less intimidating.

“Fuck,” he breathed, leaning over Abby to rest his arms against the wall behind her.

She wanted to touch him, wanted to assure him that she was okay that they were okay, but she knew she couldn’t.

She turned her face up to him, she was still angry, still hurt that he didn’t trust her, but she could see the way he struggled to keep his control, she could see the strain of it on his face and in the way he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Are you hurt,” he asked, his voice a rough whisper that rasped over her skin like sandpaper.

“No,” she replied, her own voice a whisper in response to his.

“I know you don’t understand,” he said, pushing away from the wall, away from her, leaving her feeling alone, like he was pulling his very self away from her and she grieved the loss.

“No, I don’t,” she said, her anger sparking at his retreat, “I don’t understand because you haven’t told me, because you don’t trust me. You demand my honesty and trust and I give it to you and yet you don’t trust me in return. When will I get your honesty Mason? When will you share yourself with me the way I have with you?”

He spun around to face her, his face awash with more emotion than she’d ever seen him display before. He was always so calm, so controlled and it unsettled her to see him so rattled. She felt his warring emotions wash over her in a flood, her empathetic nature soaking them up like a sponge. She stumbled back by the force of it, hitting the wall behind her as she struggled to breathe. This was why she didn’t get too close to people, the way their feeling stuck to her, sucked out her energy.

Her aunt had been an overly emotional woman, prone to hypochondria and fits of tantrums in order to get the attention she craved. Abby had practically drowned under the weight of her neediness, the sticky residue of her aunt’s unstable emotions had chafed at her until she was raw and bleeding. When her aunt had died, those emotional chains had been broken and Abby had felt like she could breathe for the first time since her parents had died.

It wasn’t until this moment that she realised what had drawn her to Mason so powerfully. It was his control over those emotions, it was the way he held back that had drawn her in. His feelings weren’t thrown around willy-nilly sticking to her, binding her with his needs. There had only been one time that she’d been overwhelmed by his emotions and it was the time when Bailey had touched him. But now his emotions poured off him unchecked and they swirled around her, stealing the air from her lungs.

She clawed at her throat, trying to loosen the strangulation she felt and Mason’s eyes widened as he watched her struggle. He came to her then, his aura encompassing her completely as his body surrounded her. He picked her up, cradling her against his chest as he strode to the sofa and sat, holding her on his lap.

“Shh,” he whispered into her hair as he stroked her back and rocked her gently. “Breathe Abby, breathe for me sweetheart.”

She felt the shift in his emotional state and she could suddenly breathe again. His feelings weren’t any less tangible, they were just no longer choking her. She could feel him, feel the concern and worry and care that now surrounded her as he held her close, whispering to her, comforting her.

She reached up, unable to stop herself, and cupped a hand along his jaw. His eyes flared and his breath hitched, but he didn’t withdraw. His eyes held hers and she felt his pain, but also his need. The moment stretched out like taffy, the edges wobbly and unfocused as they stared at one another.

He shifted, cupping her face and kissing her. She felt the play of muscles in his jaw under the crispy rasping of his whiskers on her palm.

He lifted his head and stared down at her with an intensity that rocked her.

“I love you Abigail,” he said before kissing her again, not giving her the opportunity to reply. Not that she could have. With those words he’d stolen her breath, her thoughts, her ability to do anything but respond with her body.

Mason stood from the sofa, taking Abby with him, and strode into her bedroom. He needed to show her how much he needed her, he needed to show her how much he wanted her.

“Okay poppet,” he whispered in her hair as he lay her down on the bed and stretched himself over her, “I need a status update, where are you?”

“Green, Sir,” she said, looking up at him, her eyes beginning to dilate and her breath becoming raspy.

“I’m going to push you poppet,” he said, his voice low and rough, “I think we both need it. What are your safe words?”

“Yellow to slow down, red to stop.”

“Good girl.”

He crashed his lips to hers as he took her wrists and raised them above her head. In the time they had been sleeping together, he had done some modifications to her bed so that they could play in either apartment. Right at this moment he was glad for his foresight.

He rose from her body, getting off the bed to stand beside it. The yearning to show her how deep his feelings were burned through him, but he controlled it, not wanting to frighten her with his intensity. She blinked up at him, the perfect submissive, leaving her hands where he had placed them, letting him take his fill of looking at her. She was so beautiful like this… she was beautiful all the time, but when she was so sweetly submissive like she was right now, it did something to him. She had changed him, profoundly, and he needed her to know that.

“Strip,” he said, his voice rough with the emotion he was holding back.

She moved quickly, her obedience immediate and it made his heart clench. He finally noticed that she was wearing clothes he hadn’t seen before, new clothes, not those awful dresses that she usually wore. He watched her as she peeled away the layers and his heart almost stopped when he saw what she had on underneath.

“Stop,” he said before she could remove her bra and panties.

She froze and stood before him, allowing him to take her in.

“New clothes?”

She nodded and her cheeks pinked, “Yes, Sir,” she replied, “I went shopping today with Harper and Bailey.”

Mason stopped in front of her and dragged a finger down her cheek, her neck and between her breasts. He felt her shiver in anticipation as he inspected her new underwear.

“I like it, poppet,” he said, his voice husky. He threaded his fingers through her hair, grasping the back of her neck as he lowered his mouth to hers in a harsh, deep kiss.

“I have more,” she said when he lifted his lips, “All those bags—”

“Hush now,” he whispered against her neck, “You can tell me later. We have something more important to do right now.”

He bit down on the soft muscle that joined her neck to her shoulder and she gasped before letting her head fall back and melting against him.

Reluctantly he took a step back, making sure she was steady before moving out of her personal space.

“Okay poppet, you may continue.”

It took her a moment to come back to her senses, but she managed it and with trembling fingers she released the clasp of her bra and slid the lace away exposing her full breasts to him. He eyed them greedily, his fingers itching to touch, his hands desperate to cup their heaviness, feel their weight. Her nipples bunched tight and the creamy skin grew rosy as she watched him devour her with his eyes.

“So beautiful,” he said, reaching out one finger to touch a nipple. Her head dropped back and she arched into him, wanting more, but he withdrew his finger. “Come on poppet, you’re not finished yet.”

She closed her eyes and took a breath before slipping her fingers under the waistband of her panties and pushing them down over her lush hips and soft thighs. God he loved her body, the roundness, the softness, the decadence of her curves.

“Back on the bed now poppet,” he said when she’d kicked her panties away, his voice raspy with need.

Abby climbed onto the bed on all fours, showing him her arse and he bit back a groan. He should spank her for that, but he couldn’t deny how much he enjoyed the view, so instead he spoke, “On your back poppet,” he said through gritted teeth.

She rolled onto her back and lay in the middle of the bed, her arms above her head and her legs slightly spread. She was such a perfect little sub and he couldn’t hold back the groan as he let his eyes roam over her naked form. He climbed on the bed with her, straddling her hips and buckled her wrists into the wool-lined cuffs that he’d chained to the bed head. He leant down and kissed her deeply, his fingers finding her nipples and pinching them, hard. She gasped and he swallowed her moan as her body arched up into his. He released her nipples but continued to pinch her breasts, little pinches around the areolae. He kept pinching, widening the circle around her breasts until they were pink and warm from his fingers. He bent down to suck a nipple into his mouth, the bud hard against his tongue. Abby whimpered and pulled on the restraints as he suckled and he could feel the tension in her as she tried to keep still. A flush of pleasure coursed through him at her desire to please him.

He switched his attention to the other breast, sucking it’s needy tip into his mouth and rubbing it against the roof of his mouth with his tongue. He watched Abby’s face as she squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip, holding back the demands he knew she wanted to give him. His cock twitched in his jeans, begging to be released, but not yet, there was more he needed to do before he could plunge himself into her wet heat.

Without warning, he let her nipple pop from his mouth and then sank his teeth into the creamy flesh below it. She cried out as he sucked the flesh into his mouth, ensuring that he would leave a mark on her unblemished skin.

“Are we still green, poppet?’ he asked.

“Yes, Sir,” she said breathlessly.

He bit down again, on the other breast this time, leaving another mark. He didn’t break the skin, but he did have an insatiable need to mark her. He covered her breasts with love bites and Abby’s breathing grew more rapid, her body trembling, her moans louder and louder with each mark he left.

“Still green?” he asked as he inspected his work.

“Yes… Sir,” she rasped out with a groan.

He moved down her body, nipping at her ribs and her stomach, twirling his tongue in her belly button before leaving a love bite just below it on the soft skin. He reached her sex and smelled the sweet scent of her arousal. Her parted thighs revealed her springy curls that glistened slickly, the evidence that she had enjoyed him marking her as much as he enjoyed doing it. Again his cock protested being locked away from his nirvana, but it wasn’t time yet.

Nestled between her thighs, he parted her folds, her pretty pink pussy hot and wet and ready for him. He dragged a finger along her slit, gathering the wetness to swirl around her clit eliciting a deep moan from her as her thighs tightened around him in her attempt to keep her hips still. She was so perfect. He rewarded her with a long, languid swipe of his tongue and relished the way her entire body tightened as she battled her need to buck into him. The rattle of the chains that bound her to the bed spurred him on and he bent his head to suck her tight little clit into his mouth. Her breathy moan was music to his ears as he lapped at her, his fingers holding her open to him.

He devoured her, his anger and jealousy from earlier melting away as she coated his tongue and her sweet moans filled his ears. With his face buried in her pussy, her was surrounded by her; her scent, her taste, the feel of her skin under his fingers and lips. This was heaven, this is where he wanted to be, where he needed to be.

He slid a finger into her tight channel as he suckled her clit and he felt the beginning of her orgasm. He pumped into her slowly, controlled, holding her just on the edge. She gave into her need and thrust her hips up. He nipped her in warning, but he knew she was too far gone to heed it, so he nipped her again as he thrust a second finger inside her, the added pressure all she needed to tip her over into her climax. She cried out as her body went taut and her core clamped down on his fingers. He lifted his head to watch her as she broke open for him and his heart clenched at the amazing sight of his Sweet Abby in the throes of an orgasm.

Barely giving her time to recover, he jumped from the bed and stripped out of his clothing. He sheathed himself in a condom and settled himself between her hips before thrusting into her. Her body arched off the bed and her sex clenched around him, squeezing him tight. He closed his eyes, relishing the feel of her under him, the way her creamy thighs cradled him, the plush feeling of her breasts pillowed against his chest. He kissed her as he began to pump slowly into her and she opened to him willingly, tangling her tongue with his.

Overcome with a rush of feelings for her, he pressed up on his hands and looked down at her. His marks were on her body, her lips were swollen from his kisses and her big brown eyes were dark and glassy from his attentions on her. It was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen and his climax raced through him. He slid a hand between them and pressed his finger to her clit, her second orgasm milking his cock as she cried out, her neck straining as she threw her head back in ecstasy. With a roar, he pulled out of her, resting back on his heels, and tore the condom from his cock before pumping it with his hand. He came over her, his hot semen splashing on her skin, covering her belly and her breasts. Another way to mark her, another way to show her that she belonged to him now. His eyes wanted to close, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the sight before him. Abby wore his marks like a brand. She was his.

Mine.

Mason unbuckled her cuffs before collapsing beside her, bringing her wrists down with him so he could massage them. She closed her eyes as she tried to get her breath. Mason hadn’t been lying when he told her he was going to push her. They had used spanking in the past, but the small pinches of pain he’d used on her was something new and she was surprised how much it had turned her on. She looked down at her body and saw the marks he’d left on her and his cum on her belly. She slipped a hand out of his grasp and swirled her fingers through the mess, marvelling at how it felt on her skin. It was more than just a physical reaction, it affected her heart too. It was almost like a binding, tying them together with invisible strands and what should have felt suffocating, instead felt right.

“Let me get something to clean that up,” Mason said to her, his voice rough.

She turned her head to look at him. “Not yet,” she whispered.

His eyes searched hers before he kissed her tenderly, one of his big hands cupping her face as he sipped from her lips. He pressed his forehead against hers and sighed.

“We need to talk,” he said.

She didn’t reply, just waited for him to continue, knowing that as much as she might hate what she was about to hear, she needed to hear it.

“I’m a jealous man,” he said, rolling onto his back and covering his eyes with his forearm.

She rolled to face him, propping her head on her hand.

“I saw you with that guy and I lost it. I could barely keep myself from laying the guy out flat. I know I was in the wrong, I know I shouldn’t have reacted like that.” He moved his arm and opened his eyes to look at her. “It’s something inside me and has nothing to do with whether or not I trust you, because I do. What we share… it takes trust on both sides.” He sighed and closed his eyes again. “I had a rough childhood,” he went on and Abby held her breath, wondering if he was finally going to tell her what had happened to him. “When I finally escaped to university, I thought I’d left it all behind, but some of it stuck to me. What happened to me had shaped me and it wasn’t until I was free of it that I began to realise just how much.”

She wanted to run a hand through his hair and smooth the wrinkles that had formed between his eyes as he frowned, remembering his past. She wanted to comfort him with her body; a simple hug, the caress of her hand, but she knew it would do more harm than good.

“I had my first serious girlfriend at uni, Monique, and that was when I realised just how much damage had been done to me. It’s when I discovered that I couldn’t stand to be touched. Needless to say that our first few times being intimate didn’t go well. But she was good to me and we worked it out until one night when I fell asleep with her in my bed. I’d been careful to never do that, I knew there was a chance that I would have a nightmare. I had them nearly every night and they were violent, so I always made a point of never falling asleep. But then one night I did.” He paused and her heart clenched knowing that it was painful for him. “I woke up with Declan and Brooks trying to drag me off her. My hands had been around her throat and she was petrified that I was going to kill her.”

Abby gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. Her heart hurt for him, for the horrors that he must have endured in his childhood to give him such frightening nightmares. He reached up and tucked a curl behind her ear, his face sad.

“I tried to explain it to her, tried to make her understand. She thought I was stalking her, but I just wanted her to understand. She went to the police and I had to see a psychologist and I wasn’t allowed anywhere near her. I made a decision then to never get involved with another woman, not to let my guard down with anyone. I started using an escort service to… fulfil my needs. I eventually found Madam Charlotte and she took me under her wing and introduced me to BDSM.”

“You were involved with Madam Charlotte?”

He smiled sadly, “No. She is a Domme, she taught me, mentored me and provided me with women when I needed one.” He took a deep breath. “But that all stopped when I met you. I was drawn to you from the start and even though I fought it, I couldn’t stay away from you.”

“And the chat room?”

“My attempt to distract myself from you. I thought if I found someone who was in the lifestyle, someone more permanent, then I could stop being so obsessed with you.”

Abby giggled, “That didn’t work out quite the way you intended,” she said and he grinned at her.

“No,” he agreed, “It worked out better than I could’ve expected.” Mason sobered again and searched her eyes. “I meant what I said earlier, Abby. I am in love with you and it’s a little scary and I don’t know quite how to handle it. The jealousy I felt this afternoon was more than I was prepared for and I handled it badly.” He lifted a finger and traced around the marks he’d made on her body. “These,” he stopped and swallowed, shaking his head, “I had no right to do this to you, but there was a need inside me, a need to make you mine. I’m sorry.”

She rested her hand over his, risking the fallout from touching him. She pressed his hand to her chest covering some of the marks he made on her body and his eyes found hers, hope warring with remorse in them.

“Mason,” she said, her voice husky, “I could have stopped you at any time. I had my safe word and at no time did I feel the need to use it. What we have is more intense and exciting than I have ever experienced and these marks are the evidence of it.” She stopped and swallowed. She had promised herself that she wouldn’t fall in love with him. She had told herself that what was between them was just a bit of fun, but that her heart wasn’t capable of falling in love, not after the way love had treated her in the past. But she couldn’t deny it to herself any longer. She was already in love with him, had been from almost the first moment they had met and it was time for her to be brave and face up to the truth. “Mason,” she breathed, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment before opening them and staring right into his. “I am in love with you too.”