Mirror of My Soul (Nature of Desire 4)
Chapter Eight
When he got to the threshold of his bedroom, Tyler paused. Breathing in, breathing out. Like the woman he was bringing here, he knew the power of a Mastery, the complete surrender of a submissive to the Master or Mistress. When the message was,
“All I am, I offer to you, I give to you. I’m yours. ” She’d said this was what she wanted and he was never going to take the gift for granted. He was going to give her the world if she let him. Every beautiful thing he gave her to blot out an ugly piece of her past would tear a hole out of his until they could cast their nightmares like ashes into the Gulf and lay the past to rest. He hadn’t realized the key to
his own emptiness until she’d had the incredible bravery—so much bravery there was no way to describe it—to open up her soul and shed light on the answer he’d been unable to find until her whispered words had provided it.
He’d never entered a life-threatening situation without a full arsenal of weapons.
Marguerite had let her father torture her night after night with nothing to defend her except her fierce love for her twin, the protection of his life the one thing that kept her focused.
Some wounds could only be healed by the touch of a soul mate, two broken pieces coming together to become a whole being again, so simple the jaded world would call it a cliché. The angels would call it one of God’s miracles, offered off the tips of His fingers like diamond raindrops, driving and cleaning away all that didn’t matter.
That love was worth any torment, every disappointment. It couldn’t be explained or described. It simply was, in the same way Marguerite wanted him as her Master, not even understanding what that meant. Just knowing as he’d known all along that she belonged to him. The beautiful, indomitable Mistress Marguerite.
He had perhaps not even comprehended it himself at the beginning, that she could be both. Both aspects were who she was, the sculpted result of her past, the decisions of her present. But there was a newly acknowledged part of her soul. A part that, if she held on to her courage and he didn’t let her down, could become the cradle to hold all of her amazing diversity. Protect it, cherish it and let the beauty of her many different flowers become a bouquet of possibilities they could share.
His rational mind knew all that, could analyze it forever while his soul merely rolled its eyes and pushed him toward the path it had always known was the right one.
Claiming her fully, making her dark and light his now and forever so there would be no path she had to walk alone ever again. It was what she’d said she wanted in that one word she’d whispered in his ear. The Master in him wasn’t waiting to hear it twice.
Putting her down, he guided her in and closed the door. He stopped her at the foot of the bed, the only light coming from the dim strip of hallway light under the door.
The house was silent, all the guests occupied outside and Sarah’s kitchen on the opposite end of the house. It was just the two of them.
Marguerite watched him move to the dresser. He’d been so quiet since they left the party, but then words didn’t feel necessary. Flame illuminated him when he lit a trio of candles that were there, along with an arrangement of fresh flowers, a stack of scripts and a belt he’d apparently discarded earlier in favor of the one he was currently wearing.
“The picture of your wife is gone. ” The small wooden box with the rings was as well.
“Not gone. Just moved. I had Robert hang it along the stairs with the other family pictures. ” He turned, began to remove the wedding ring.
“No,” she spoke softly. “Don’t. ”
He stopped, a rare look of surprise crossing his face.
“It reminds me who you are. ”
He put the pieces back together, by himself. And most people couldn’t have done that…
About eighteen months after she went back to Europe, he went after her… He never divorced her, you see.
Sarah’s words echoed in her head, reminded her of the type of man he was. She met his gaze across the room. “I meant what I wrote on that note. If I’m here, it’s because I want all of you. You’ve told me you want me, light and dark. Give me the same trust. ” Something painful passed through his expression, his fingers still over the ring. She stepped forward, one step, two steps. Kneeling before him, she took his hands, separated them to press her lips to that ring finger and rub her cheek against his knuckles. When he drew in an unsteady breath, she made a new discovery. The loyalty and devotion of a submissive could be even stronger than the power of a Master.
“Why did you move the picture?”
“I loved her, will always love her, but this room is yours and mine now. I wanted you to know that when you stepped into it. ”
“When? Not if?” She tried to sound challenging, but her heart was pounding too hard. It increased as he drew her to her feet, took a scarf from a drawer.
“When. Not if. Another day and I would have come for you. And I think you know that. ”
She put up a hand, uncertainty returning, and halted the scarf’s upward advance.
“What are you doing?”
“Blindfolding you. Making love to you the way I wish. Trust me, angel. For once I want you to try to relinquish all control to me. Try to trust me as your subs trust you.
To give them pleasure, to keep them safe. ”