Page 57 of Violent Hearts

Chapter 26

Jared

"Jared!"

I flee from her voice. I can't look at her right now. I can't fucking look her in the face, and I sure as hell don't want her to look into mine. Not now. Not after what just happened.

I storm up the stairs heading for my office and slamming the door behind me. I'm not going to lock myself up like a hurt little girl, so I don’t lock it. Button should be smart enough to know that she'd better leave me alone right now.

I pace around the room like a damn lion in his cage, growling with rage and feeling like a pathetic loser. How could I let this happen? Why couldn't I get a hold of myself? I've done this many times before, and I fucking enjoyed it! I needed it! Seeing my toys get used and fucked before my eyes has always been part of the game for me, part of the fun. I savored the view of them getting treated like the little sluts they are, I relished the feeling of superiority as I not only directed them, but the guy who was fucking them. My possessive nature thrived in these scenarios.

Never, ever, have I felt like I did today.

That image, that damn image of her, touching him, ready to please him. Even seeing him lay his eyes on her like that was too much. I tried to fight it. I tried telling myself that I just needed to get used to it because it has been a while since I've done anything like this.

But I was lying to myself.

It was as if someone was punching me in the gut when she lowered herself over his cock. All the other things felt like small strikes in comparison, a slap in the face when she looked at him, a clasp around my throat when he looked at her, a superficial cut with a knife when she closed her small hand around his hard cock. I thought I could take it. I thought I had to take it.

And the worst part of it all? She was enjoying it! She was dripping wet, trembling with excitement when I gave her the orders, just as if we were alone.

No. Not as if we were alone. It was actually more than that. She seemed more excited, more into it. I bet that T wasn't the only person to meet my sudden outburst with disappointment. Hers might even have been worse.

This is the fucking worst part about it. I'm a wimp. I'm the fool who chickened out, while she is still sticking to the rules.

I hear a knock at the door and stop mid-pace.

"Sir?"

Her voice is barely audible, not much more than the suggestion of sound, numbed even quieter by the door.

I remain silent, standing stiff, my eyes glued to the door.

"Jared?"

She's louder this time, but not any less worried. A few more moments pass before I hear her turning the door knob.

"Out!" I bark at her. "Stay out!"

But she's done listening to me today. The door slowly swings open, and I expect to be faced with her worried expression, her eyebrows curved in concern when she comes in to console me.

But, as always, my little Button manages to surprise me. She's entering the room looking exactly the way I left her, with her exposed tits bouncing with every step, her thong most likely sticking to her still-wet core, and balancing on her heels as she approaches me, her stern look fixated on me.

"You don't get to yell at me like that after what you just did," she says, planting herself in front of me with her arms crossed below her tits. "What was that all about? If I did something wrong, why don't you just tell me? Correct me? Teach me?"

She pauses, inhaling deeply before she continues to speak.

"I thought that that's what all of this is about. You teaching me, training me. When I do something good, I get a reward - when I do something wrong, I get punished. Is this a punishment?"

I shake my head. "No. It's not a punishment. You did nothing... wrong."

She exhales audibly. "Well, then. What the hell is this all about then?"

Her fierce gaze penetrates me almost to the point where it hurts. I want to evade the powerful blue-gray depth of her eyes, but I can't turn away. It would be weak of me to do so, and I can't give her that satisfaction.

But I do have to apologize. She deserves that much.

"I'm sorry," I bring myself to say. "I shouldn't have done that. It was wrong of me."

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