Page 13 of Our Broken Pieces
“Hi, Marcus.”
I step inside, closing the door behind me. I pull her to me, the smell of her gardenia perfume surrounding me. “Hey, baby girl.”
She looks at my shirt, then up to my face, a bit confused. “You’re wearing a t-shirt.”
I slowly nod. One of my signals to her that we’re going to play is showing up in a button-down shirt. She knows a scene has started when I take my watch off. “I need to talk to you.”
“Okay.” She leads me to her couch, pauses to allow me to sit, then curls up in my lap.
I start playing with her hair, the strands soft between my fingers. I hold her tight to me, knowing this is the last time I’ll hold her like this.
“I had a meeting with my father that didn’t go well this week.”
She knows the struggles I’ve experienced over the years with my father. She even knows about what happened during my childhood. As a dom, some of us also try to heal through BDSM, just as some subs do, so I needed to open up to her about that part of my life so she could better understand my needs and triggers.
She brings her eyes to mine. “What happened, sir?” The use of my name is like a dagger wrenched into my side. “He told me that he won’t hand over the business unless I get married.”
Her eyes dart back and forth between mine as she works through what I said. I watch as realization and sadness set in.
“Oh.”
“I know that isn’t anything you want right now.”
“No, it’s not.”
I see her face change. I think she realizes what I’m about to do. I need her close to me, so I put my hand in her hair and pull her to my chest. “You mean so much to me, Lauren. You’ve let me be myself. You’ve helped me work through things no one else could, and every single thing you’ve achieved, I couldn’t be prouder.” Ipause, the weight of what I have to say next pressing down on me.
“But?” she whispers, the question a barely-there breath.
I kiss her hair, feeling the familiar warmth of her. “But I have to let you go. If we keep this... I’ll never be able to put myself out there the way I need to. And I won’t be able to give you what you deserve.”
She nods against my chest, her fingers tracing quiet patterns over the fabric of my shirt. She’s silent for a long moment, then her arms come up around my neck, holding on as if I might slip away right there.
“I understand. I’m going to miss you so much, Marcus. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”
“You’re welcome. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”
Fuck, my heart is breaking. Maybe this is good. I’ve become too attached to her.
“Will you text me, call sometimes? So I know you’re alright?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so. If I do, I’ll want more than a call, more than just a message. And it wouldn’t be fair.”
Her lips press tight, and she gives a small nod. She brushes her lips over my cheeks, then each side of my mouth, lingering there, her breath warm against mine. My hand slips up to the nape of her neck, fingers threading into her hair, and I let my lips rest on hers, soft, almost tentative.
“One more time,” she murmurs against my lips, her voice trembling. “Please, Sir.”
I rest my forehead on hers, eyes closed. “I’m sorry, Lauren,” I whisper, my voice catching. “I can’t—not if I know it’s the last time.”
Her eyes shimmer with unshed tears, and she nods, her voice barely above a whisper. “I understand.”
“I’m sorry,” I say again, a helpless ache in the words.
She gives a small, painful smile. “We had fun, didn’t we?”
I nod, swallowing the ache in my chest. “We did.”
For a while, we sit in silence, holding onto these last, quiet moments. Finally, she shifts beside me, her gaze steady. “I’m ready to go to bed now.”
