Take Me (The Submission Games Book 2) Read online

  She flops onto the couch and pats the cushion next to her. I’m vaguely embarrassed at how grubby it is—how shabby the whole apartment is.

  Tessa sighs and tells me a horrifying story about a man with a stupid fucking name who I now want to kill more than anything in the world.

  She explains all about him, and her journey in The Underground.

  If Reiley were here right now, I’d probably kiss his ring like he was the pope.

  But still, knowing I wasn’t the reason Tessa tried to take her own life doesn’t magically make everything better. I still fucked up and she still almost died. “It’s still...we all could have lost you.”

  “In the end, I found myself. I’m still here, and it wasn’t on you to save me like some rogue white knight on a horse.”

  “But I wasn’t there to protect you.” I get up and pace around the room, picturing a hundred other ways she’s probably been hurt in her life that I have no idea about because, surprise surprise, I hadn’t been there for her. “I’m so fucking sorry for letting you down. I wasn’t there when you needed me the most.”

  She rolls her eyes. “So? As the brits say, change the fucking record! I wasn’t there to protect you either when you went away and got blown apart, but we’re both still here. We experienced some truly awful things and we both made it through them. We can beat ourselves up for all the times we think we failed each other, or we can realize that even those shitty experiences made us stronger people and we can be here for each other now.”

  That doesn’t mean I have the right to walk in and pick up where we left off. Not after the way I fucked up. Her dad’s right—people around me do seem to end up fucked up or hurt. I’m a mess. I shouldn’t put her in harm’s way by keeping her near me where she could get caught in the crossfire. “I just—”

  “Stop living inside my past.” She stands up and strides over to me, physically getting in the way of my pacing. “I don’t blame you for anything that happened to me. You shouldn’t either.”

  “What if—”

  She inclines her head, a gleam entering her eyes. “Or, if you really want to go down that route, I’ve got a mean little flogger I can loan you to self-flagellate with. I’ll bring you back to the club and we can put you onstage for everyone to really soak up the penance and remorse. I know a dozen people who would jump at the chance to join in, flog you themselves if you need a punishment. At least then I’d get a more interesting show than this same old song and dance.”

  I bite my lip hard, trying not to smile, but a snort of laughter comes out anyways. Her mock outrage puts things into perspective, and I try to lighten the mood. “You’d love to get me in your dungeon with a crop in your hand. That’s what you’ve wanted all along, isn’t it?”

  Her hands move down my back and swoop down to clench my ass and pull me closer. “What I’ve wanted all along, is you. Just you and me. So for fuck’s sake, stop fighting it now that we can finally be together.”

  I want to. “God I want to.”

  She presses her forehead against mine. “Whatever it is in your head that’s making this block when it comes to us? Get over it.”

  As though it was that easy. But...what if it was? What if it could be? What if I stopped everything and let myself be happy and be with this fierce, strong, sassy woman who’s fought battles all on her own and more than proven she was a complete badass, capable of grabbing life by the balls—and twisting them if it messed with her.

  Any man in the world would weep with gratitude to have Tessa Winters look his way and offer him what she’s offering me. She doesn’t owe me a second chance.

  Why the fuck am I resisting this?

  I grab her hand and lead her to my bedroom. I’m already hard, straining against the confines of my jeans, but she reaches between us and rubs me, making it both better and worse. I plant my feet wider, and tease her pants and panties down her hips and legs, letting gravity take over while I kiss a trail down her torso, kneeling in front of her again, this time not speaking.

  I love how she tastes.

  I could taste her every day if I stop fighting this. With my lips and tongue, I show her how much I want her. I don’t stop moving my mouth against her until she moans, “yes,” again and again, then I slide two fingers inside her, rubbing her g-spot so she has something to clench around when she comes a moment later.

  She pulls me back on top of her on the bed and I stretch out above, propped on my elbows, drinking in the sight of her. She’s so relaxed and sweet when she comes. Maybe she’s an exquisite dominant, I don’t know. All I know is how sweet her voice turns when she’s coming, and for a few moments after. I love that I can make her come undone.

  She reaches up and kisses me, pressing a hand on my back. “Put your weight on me.”

  Another moan when I comply. I grit my teeth. “You’re doing me in, and I’m not even inside you yet.” Her skin is impossibly warm beneath the hand I use to trace the planes of her body, thigh to ribs and back again.

  “Why is that? It’s been hours. I’m feeling very neglected, Mark.”

  “I didn’t know you were waiting for me.”

  “Neither did I,” she says softly, speaking about more than just the last time we made love. “Not until you knocked on my door. But I feel like I’ve always been waiting for you.”

  My chest gets tight. “No one’s gotten under my skin like you. I can’t get you out. And I don’t want to.”

  “I don’t want you out of me either.” Her eyes darken with a wicked grin that steals over her features. She wiggles her hips and wraps her legs around me again. “Starting now?”

  God, I love when she talks dirty.

  But I love it more when she’s too turned on to talk at all.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Tessa

  I lazily let my fingers wander up his spine, warm and relaxed after coming. But with Mark, a nibble only makes me want a bite. Having him makes me hungry for more, and all I want is him inside me, driving us to a frenzy, but right now he needs me, needs to feel our connection. But I’m driving this bus now and it’s not going to be a short ride driven by latent insecurities, by whatever pain or regret or fears that are tainting his vision of the future.

  So I take my time, kissing him until the tension leaves his body, as though we’ve all the time in the world. I caress, stroke, lick, and savor him. Not an inch of his body is left untouched, unloved, overwhelmed by sensuality.

  And when he smiles that smile that makes my knees weak, only then do I get a condom from the nightstand and slowly roll it down his shaft.

  I want him to be able to lie back and see how much I want him, how I’m here for him. How he’s not alone. He needs to be the one receiving care, love, adoration right now. I don’t know the things going through his head—all I know is I want to erase them with sensations.

  And I’m going to be his soft place to fall.

  I slide down on his cock, inch by inch. When I’m fully impaled on his hard length, I lean down and graze the tips of our noses together, slanting my mouth over his, ghosting the gentlest kiss across his lips.

  His fingertips find my hips as gently, like he’s scared I’ll dissolve if he touches me.

  We can’t have that tentative bullshit.

  I grind my hips in a slow circle, smiling against his mouth when his hands reflexively clutch them. He cares so much my heart aches. He thinks he’s protecting me from himself as though he’s not good enough, but the idiot’s got it backwards.

  He’s always been too good for me.

  But that’s not exactly right either. We’re perfect for each other, even if he doesn’t think so. Sometimes we need to get out of our own way to let things be what they are without overanalyzing them.

  Good, bad, who gives a fuck.

  I love this man more than I’ve ever loved anyone. Probably more than I’ll ever love anyone else. He’s the only love I’ve ever known, ever will know. He is love. I bring his hands up to cover my breasts, and start s
lowly riding his cock, keeping my hands locked over his—keeping my eyes locked on his.

  I smile down at him, and he thrusts up harder to meet me, his cock nudging me so deep it makes me gasp. I put my hands above his shoulders, leaning forward to hit new angles while rocking my hips.

  “Mark...I—I love you.”

  He sits up and wraps his arms around me, flipping us so he’s on top.

  For a moment, he simply looks down at me as though memorizing my features before gently kissing my cheeks, my forehead, the tip of my nose even, which makes me smile.

  Instead of returning my smile, he places a gentle kiss on my lips.

  I tilt my hips at a severe angle and he moans, thrusting into me in earnest as though embracing the experience instead of resisting, and I’m the lucky one caught between his body and the mattress. Wrapping my arms around him, I hold on for the ride, a giant smile claiming my lips while he pounds into me at the perfect fucking angle that sends jolts through my belly.

  The world disappears when his hands seize my thighs and move my ankles up to his shoulders, my heart up to my throat.

  Skin to skin, face to face, heart to heart, this is the rawest we’ve been together, and I grab his hands, squeezing them as hard as I can.

  He squeezes back.

  I pull my legs down, tugging him closer again. He stretches out on top of me, pressing me into the bed in that delicious way I forgot I craved, tangling his fingers in my hair and kissing me so deeply.

  He’s balls deep in me, fucking me as hard as he can, and it’s perfect.

  His kisses light my skin on fire; maybe there will be lip-shaped burn marks up my neck tomorrow.

  I hope so.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Mark

  I love you, I love you, I love you.

  I stop thrusting, needing to slow down or my heart’s going to explode. Maybe not just physically, but emotionally too.

  I cradle her face and kiss her. Deeply, slowly, then push her back and nestle between her legs. The look in her eyes is practically melting me to the bed. So much love, need, and want. My every argument to send her away dissolves when she puts her hands on me. One smile and I’m hers.

  One thrust and all thoughts are obliterated from my mind except, “more.”

  I hold her so close, brushing her lips with mine, tracing feathery lines on her skin. It’s a deliciously stark contrast to how hard and deep I plunge inside her, shaking the bed with the power of my thrusts.

  Hard, deep, but slow now.

  She shifts her hips to a more severe angle, and we both cry out at the sensation of new places being stroked, and touched deep inside.

  My balls tighten and heat spreads through me. “God, Tessa, you feel so—”

  “Fucking amazing!” she finishes. “You feel so,” her last word turns to a moan as I reach down and rub her clit while devastating her with my hips.

  My other hand joins in the sensory overload and finds her breast, massaging and kneading, playing with her nipple. Then I need more, and my mouth finds hers and I sit up with her on my lap, buried deep inside.

  “Wanted to hold you tighter.” I tighten my arms around her, stroking her back hard, but not feeling close enough.

  She nuzzles in as close as she can, laying her head in the nook between my shoulder and neck, pressing her face to my neck, breathing deeply in a way that’s so raw and sexy I bite my lip—then bite hers instead.

  I’ve never done it in this position, but it is my new favorite. My hips rub the insides of her legs, still wrapped around me. My thighs moved beneath her ass, my arms around her back, hands sliding up and down. Our chests are pressed together, my hard muscles gliding against her soft curves. I’m inside her and all around her, and never touched this much of her at once.

  And we rock together at a lazy, sensual pace as though we’ll be joined together forever. Heat and pleasure build between us, the stimulation of so much skin on skin spiraling us to impossible heights until every thrust grows faster, more desperate, and soon we’re frantically grinding together, kisses running nearly too deep to breathe, eyes open and on each other, hips bucking and rocketing at a frenzied pace toward release.

  I love you.

  And when we get there, it’s with sighs and pleasure on the verge of relief, to have bared it all and been taken in by the other.

  We kiss and caress, her hands lazily exploring my body as though it’s hers.

  How does she feel so comfortable being so open with me after all the ways I hurt her?

  Has she forgiven me for fucking up? Should she have? Am I unhealthy for her?

  What if the worst thing that ever happened to Tessa Winters wasn’t a bad Dominant, but...me?

  “Stop it.” She pokes my chest, curling into me, but propping herself up on an elbow.

  “Stop what?”

  She frowns. “You’re getting that look on your face again.” She sighs. “What is it now?”

  “It’s just...Your dad’s an asshole but what if he’s right?”

  “What if he’s right about what?” The words are hissed through her clenched jaw.

  “That I’m toxic for you with all my issues.”

  She sits up and starts putting her clothes on with slow, deliberate motions. “I can’t fucking believe this.”

  “Tessa, I—”

  “I can’t...I refuse to hold on when you’re trying so hard to push me away. Again.”

  “I’m not—”

  “I’m not saying you don’t actually believe this. I don’t think it’s even an excuse. You truly bought into this bullshit.” Her voice cracks. “But you’ll break my fingers as well as my heart, tearing yourself out of my hands to run from my life again. You’re the one who needs to fight this time. Not me.”

  Why can’t I just get over this? “It’s not like that, Tessa. I want you. I’ve always wanted you.”

  “Whatever, Mark. Yeah, we ended, but I didn’t slip away. You had my heart in your hands and you dropped it so your load would be lighter when you ran away.”

  I shake my head. “That’s not how it happened.”

  “That what it feels like is happening now. Let the past be the past or we won’t have a future.”

  She takes my heart with her on her way out the door.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Tessa

  I text Sloane while storming down the steps of Mark’s building, telling her to meet me at my place ASAFP.

  Sloane: I was just on my way there! Do I need to bring anything?

  Me: Wine. Lots of it. Whatever you think is too much? Add a bottle.

  Sloane: Are you okay?

  Me: No.

  Sloane: What can I do?

  Me: Meet me at my place ASAFP!!

  Sloane: I’ll be there As Soon As Fucking Possible.

  I scroll through my contacts until I find the name I’m looking for.

  I’m ready to do something I should have done years ago. While I haven’t cowed to his wishes for years, I’ve still never severed the tie I should have.

  “Tessa.”

  “Father. I’m done with you. Sloane’s done with you. Leave me alone. Leave Sloane alone.”

  “Is this about your little soldier?”

  My heart clenches at his tone. “Leave Mark out of this.”

  “He’s not good enough for you. He ran before, he’ll abandon you again.”

  “And why was that?” I seethe. “Only, I’m fairly certain that was mostly because of you.”

  Daddy sniffs. “He had a choice, Tessa. I gave him a choice and it wasn’t you. It came down to money.”

  Now this is new information, but I don’t trust a word from my father’s lying mouth. I’ll ask Reiley to look into this. “This isn’t about Mark. It’s about Sloane and me.”

  “I only want what’s best for you. Surely you can see that.”

  “No. You only care about your perfect fucking image of what our family is supposed to look like. Family is who we choose to have in our lives
.”

  “Tessa.” His voice is sharp and condescending. “Don’t you dare equate our family with those people you hang out with.”

  I smile, thinking about those people I hang out with. Reiley, Darko, Sloane, Edda, Robyn, English...and so many more members who would take a bullet for me, and I would for them as well. I doubt my father would—unless some cameras were rolling. “Those people are more my family than you ever were. I saw the pictures you sent to Mark.”

  “I—”

  “The thing is, if you truly gave a shit about me, you’d have gotten rid of those pictures years ago. You never would have taken them—or kept them at all. Because you should have known how devastating it would be for me to see them. Way to commemorate the worst time in my life, Father.”

  “All I’ve done is try and protect you girls.”

  I pull into my parking space and throw the car into park. “No. All you’ve done is try and protect our careers. If you think us being our true selves is such a goddamn liability, it’s really easy. Leave. Us. Alone.”

  “I don’t want—”

  “Do you really think any of this is about what you want?” I snap. “You’re so fucking arrogant! This isn’t about what you want for your career. It’s about what me and Sloane need. And we don’t need you. Don’t call or text or write. Stay out of our lives—that goes for Mark and all of our friends too.”

  “Or?”

  “Or I’ll bury your career in scandal so deep you couldn’t spin it with a fucking tornado.”

  I hang up and get out of my car. Reiley’s right. It would be more satisfying to slam a receiver down after a phone call like that, but I content myself with slamming the car door and stomping inside, texting Reiley, asking him to look into the situation with Mark choosing money over me.

  I don’t believe that for a moment, but I want to know what truly happened.

  Reiley immediately replies: I’m on it.

  I don’t want Mark to catch any heat from Daddy—even as disappointed as I am in him right now. Ugh this is a mess.

  “Tessa!” Sloane catches me just as I’m fobbing my way into the building, a bottle in each hand.