Control Freak
Mr. Blomqvist shifts on his feet. “It’s complicated, Lacey.”
Humiliation courses through me. That’s just a polite way of saying no. Why did he even ask me if he was just going to say that? “Never mind, I should go. In fact, I quit. It’s for the best.”
I try to push past him but he catches my arm and gently pulls me back. “No, you don’t. I haven’t finished talking to you. There’s no reason to feel embarrassed.”
“It’s not that.” It is that. I asked him to sleep with me, and he turned me down flat. “I just don’t want to be here right now.”
“I said there’s no reason to feel embarrassed or that your pride is hurt. Do as you’re told.”
I look up at him through my lashes, my feet suddenly planted to the spot. Do as you’re told. That’s what I want to hear him say. I suck on my lower lip to redden it and watch him watching me do it. I’ve never done anything like that in front of a man, but it feels good. “I’m trying, sir.”
“I can see that,” he murmurs, reaching out to touch my cheek. I feel my heart beat a little faster because with that one small touch he’s joined me in these dangerous waters, and suddenly they don’t seem quite so full of sharks.
He drops his hand. “But I don’t do pale imitations of the real thing.”
I feel as if he’s punched me in the guts. I’m a pale imitation. Bland. Boring. I didn’t think he’d be so cruel. He could have just said he doesn’t like me that way, or he can’t.
“Lacey,” he says sharply as if reading my mind. “I didn’t mean you. I mean it’s complicated, because I always want everything.”
There’s a fire burning in his eyes that I’ve never seen before. He touches my neck again, his thumb caressing the column of my throat, almost as if he can’t help himself.
“Everything?” I whisper.
Mr. Blomqvist moves toward me, each of his steps slow and measured. His grip on my throat tightens, and he keeps coming until he has me pinned against the wall.
His mouth is very close to mine. “Yes, everything. I’m a control freak, remember?”
Chapter Nine
Stian
“Doing thing by halves isn’t my style,” I tell Lacey, loving the feel of her beneath my hands. I can feel how desperately she wants to be happy, and I think I can show her how.
“And you feel like you’d have to because I’m in therapy,” she says, misery still coloring her voice.
“No. If you weren’t in therapy, I wouldn’t touch you.” I stroke my thumb over the velvet choker, imagining what she’d look like wearing nothing else. Her head is tipped back, and she’s looking up at me with parted lips as if she’s waiting for me to kiss her.
So I do.
Lacey tastes like cherry lip gloss and salty tears and it’s so good. I kiss her slowly, coaxing her lips apart and then sliding my tongue against hers. The movements of her mouth are tentative, and she lets me take the lead. I deepen the kiss, desire shooting through me. I’m more than just kissing her. I’m marking her with my lips. Mine. My sweet bonsai girl, just aching for some control.
I gather her up in my arms and pull her to me, feeling her slender body against my hard one. She might be troubled, but she’s not fragile. I’ve seen for myself how hard she battles to just get through the day. Telling me how she feels and what she wants must have been excruciating, and yet she did it. She trusted me. I like to be wanted, and I fucking love to be needed.
“Is everything too much Lacey, or does that sound about perfect to you?”
“What’s everything?” she asks breathlessly.
“Your body. Your obedience. Your submission.” I stroke a finger along her plump lower lip. “Your happiness.”
“You can have the first three, sir,” she breathes. “They’re all yours. But I don’t know what I’ve done with the fourth.”
“I told you. Everything. I’m going to have your happiness, too. Trust me, käraste.”
The acceptance in her eyes is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
“I could make you happy if you tell me everything that your heart desires. But I won’t settle for less than everything. You can’t hide things from me or save things for other men.”
“I don’t want other men,” she says right away.
I cast my eyes over the pink choker, the white dress. A possessive thrill goes through me at the thought that she only wants me, and she’s been wanting me, as much as I’ve been wanting her. “Then how about while you work here you be my girl? Daddy’s girl. I know you like to say yes, sir. Why don’t you try yes, daddy.”
I slide my hand down her belly and cup her sex, and she whimpers against my mouth. Her arms come lightly around my neck and she arches into my hand. I move my fingers beneath her dress and brush the seam of her sex through her underwear.