It feels like she’s been here forever, despite it being less than twenty-four hours. She looks so good in my space, like she belongs here, and maybe she does. Maybe she always did. Because she belongs wherever I am.
Clara’s curled up in the corner of the couch with a coffee in one hand and her work phone in the other, replying to some emails that need attention. But she looks calm and at home in one of my shirts. And I may be imagining things, but I’d say she looks more relaxed right now than she ever did in her own apartment. But I try not to get ahead of myself.
She’s going to fight me every single step of the way because that’s just who she is, and I wouldn’t want her any other way. Because without that fight, she wouldn’t be the woman who has captured my black heart.
I watch her from the kitchen, my eyes glued on the beauty who so effortlessly captures my attention with everything she does. The way she brings the mug to her lips but pauses to smell the caffeine before taking a sip. How her brows pull together when she reads something frustrating. And how she shuffles around every few minutes because she aches from my rough treatment of her.
Having her here is a weight off my chest, and last night was the first night in months I’ve slept in my own bed at a normal hour since we met. Normally I sleep after I know she’s safely at work, and even then, sometimes I favor watching her on the Frost Industries security system. But last night, with Clara in my arms, I slept through the night. And more than that, there were no nightmares plaguing my restful sleep, just warm skin pressed to mine and gentle snores that brought a smile to my lips.
Is this what happiness feels like?
The thought catches me off guard because I’ve never known the emotion. My parents died when I was young and I don’t remember them. I think we were happy, but all I have to go off is an old photo that was left with me at the orphanage when my grandparents dropped me off. I don’t blame them. I should, but I don’t.
I was a crazy toddler, getting into everything, and they were too old to be chasing after me. They didn’t expect to have a three-year-old when they were in their sixties, and after a few months, they dropped me off at an orphanage in Chicago, two states away from where they lived, with nothing more than a duffel bag of clothes and a photo of my parents and me.
After that, all I knew was pain. Years of foster homes with parents who were only in it for the paycheck, barely being fed enough to survive. Being beaten any time I stepped out of line, and that was before the last home. The worst of them. The things I saw there, the things those people did, it still turns my stomach if I allow myself to think about it for too long.
“How long are you going to stand over there and stare?” Clara breaks my daze without looking up from her phone, a small smile playing on her pouty lips.
Fuck, I need her again already. The need to tie her hands behind her back, push her to her knees and fuck her face until tears drip down her cheeks is almost overwhelming. But that can wait.
“At least another half hour,” I shoot back.
Clara shakes her head, the smile growing larger and I can’t help but allow my own to mirror hers. She’s so fucking beautiful, and having her here is like the missing piece of the puzzle. I escaped the life I was almost forced into, I work for good people doing bad things to satisfy my bloodlust, but she’s what it’s all been missing.
My fawn.
I push off the counter, unable to have this much space between us for another moment. I thought my obsession with her would settle once she was in my space, but if anything, it’s grown deeper. Burrowing deep into my very core and holding on to me so hard I couldn’t escape even if I wanted to.
Her eyes track my every step, wary of the monster who approaches her, but she’s not afraid, and if I’m honest, I don’t think she ever was. Perhaps somewhere deep inside, her subconscious recognized my cold, dead soul as the other half of hers.
By the time I drag the ottoman in front of her and take a seat, her phone’s been forgotten, and her attention rests solely on me.
“Time to discuss your rules, little fawn.”
I take the mug from her hands, giving her one less thing she can launch at my head when I inevitably say something she doesn’t like. I have no illusions that this is going to be easy, but if this morning is anything to go by, it’s worth it.
“I don’t need rules.” She frowns.
I chuckle and rest my palms on her bare legs, the milky skin soft under my touch. We’re like day and night, good and evil, hard and soft, but even with that knowledge, there’s no way I’m letting go.
“If for no other reason than my own sanity, you certainly do.”
Clara rolls her eyes, the exasperation evident in her soft features, but she doesn’t reply. She just purses her lips and waits for me to continue.
“No rolling your eyes.” I tap her thigh gently. “That’s rule one. I also want to know where you are, who you’re with, and what you’re doing at all times.”
Her eyebrows pull together, and she tries to stand, but I hold her in place. “Tommy, that’s completely unreasonable.”
“No, fawn. What would be unreasonable is locking you in this apartment with no way for you to escape or call for help, which is what I’ll do if you breach that particular rule.”
Her lips part in surprise, but I don’t give her a chance to argue before I continue.
“I’m not normally a reasonable man, Clara, but I will try with you. If you come to me for something and my immediate response is to say no, explain the importance and I will try to find a solution we’re both happy with. I spoke to Snow while you were in the shower, and she said if you would like to work from here until we’ve found your father and the danger has passed, she’s happy to handle any face-to-face meetings.”
She opens her mouth to argue.
“But I told her you would likely want to come to the office each day and that I was comfortable with this given the level of security Everett has installed.”
I pause to allow her to speak her earlier concern, but she remains quiet.
“In the bedroom, you will do what I say when I say, or you will be punished. If something hurts, makes you uncomfortable, or scares you, you are to say ‘red,’ and I will stop whatever I’m doing immediately. And you are not to come unless I explicitly tell you to.
“These rules are not in place to annoy or inconvenience you. They’re there for your safety and protection.”
She watches me from under her long, dark lashes, but it’s minutes before she responds. “What are we? Friends with benefits? Roommates who share a bed and fuck? Inconveniences to one another?”
A laugh mingles with a growl. It’s both laughable and infuriating that she thinks she’s nothing more than a warm body for me to stick my dick in when the reality is, she’s become my reason for existing.
“We are far more than that, Clara.”
Her eyes flash with uncertainty, but it won’t be there for long. I won’t let it be. “Then what am I to you?” she whispers, her voice thick with doubt as she wets her full, pouty lips.
“You’re mine.”
