Page 121 of How to Belong with a Billionaire

I’d never heard him sound that way before—he’d been angry, yes, even afraid sometimes, but this was a kind of animal panic. The bewildered fury of a tiger thrashing in a hunter’s trap. I pulled away, wanting to spare him the added burden of my weight, and the pain radiating from my shoulder erupted into a frenzy, nearly sending me to my knees.

“It’s all right,” I told him, wrapping a hand around the honeycomb of the grid to keep me upright. “I’ve got you. Hold still.”

But I’m not sure he was capable of it, fighting against his bonds, and fighting me right alongside them. I fumbled with the buckles, light-headed, my fingers weak and trembly and useless.

I tried again, close to tears for real this time. “Please. I can’t—You have to…you have to let me.”

“Caspian”—that was Nathaniel, sounding exactly as shocked as he deserved to sound—“please, I—”

I half turned. “Just…shut up. You’ve done enough.”

To my surprise, Caspian stilled, breathing heavily, hands clenching and unclenching in the cuffs. Which, after a few more seconds of incompetent tugging, allowed me to release him. His wrists were torn up, rubbed bloody and already bruising, but he didn’t seem to even notice. Just grabbed me and spun me round, the stinging intensity of his gaze upon my back enough to make me whimper as if he’d touched me. “You’re hurt.”

“I’m okay.”

Pushing me behind him, he strode across the room to where Nathaniel was standing and ripped the cane from his hand. “What the fuck was that?”

“I…” Nathaniel cringed, his face ashen and sweat-speckled. “I don’t know. I didn’t mean—I’m sorry.”

Caspian snapped the cane over his knee and flung the pieces of it aside. “You know I consider negligence far worse than malice.”

“It happened so fast.”

“Then you should have been faster. And these excuses do not reflect well on you.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. Surging forward, I grabbed at Caspian’s arm. “For fuck’s sake. That’s enough. It was clearly an accident. And anyway, he didn’t do anything to me he wasn’t going to do to you.”

“I had submitted myself to it.” Caspian glanced down at me, his eyes losing some of their icy ferocity. “You had not.”

It was so not the right time, but I couldn’t help myself: I laughed. Well, it was that or cry. “I’ve never submitted to anything in my life. I’ve chosen. Just like I chose to take that blow for you.”

A moment of silence, and then Caspian asked, very softly, “Why would you do that?”

The easiest answer wasbecause I love you. But while that was part of it, the truth was more complex. “Because this isn’t what you want and it isn’t what Nathaniel wants and it diminishes what I want. On top of which, it isn’t going to fix anything. Honestly, I don’t know what either of you were thinking.”

“Nathaniel thought it would help me control my nature better. And”—the tight little line appeared between Caspian’s brows—“the attempt was the least I owed him.”

At that, I turned a death glare on Nathaniel. “What, so, like aversion therapy? Except for kink instead of queerness?”

“No. God. No. I would…I would never—” He went, if possible, even paler. And for a second or two, I thought he might actually throw up. But then he just wobbled over to the bed and sat down, dropping his head into his hands.

When he looked up again, his cheeks were wet, and he turned his gaze pleadingly on Caspian. “You…you wouldn’t touch me. You said you were too afraid of hurting me. I thought if you could forgive me for doing this to you, you could believe in my forgiveness also.”

“For the last fucking time,” I yelled, “nobody needs any fucking forgiveness. This stuff’s just sex. It doesn’t need to be diagnosed or explained or justified.”

Nathaniel glanced my way. “You know it’s not that simple for Caspian.”

“Because of Lancaster Steyne?” Probably I shouldn’t have spoken quite so bluntly, because I felt Caspian shudder. But for my own sake, I wasn’t letting that entitled abusive prick become my personal Voldemort.

“For God’s sake,” Nathaniel snapped, “have a little compassion.”

I blinked. I had moments of feeling sorry for him, but the man’s capacity for self-righteousness was truly impressive. “Compassion? You just literally hit me. As part of some sick plan to fix your sex life.”

“Please stop this.” Caspian stepped between us, as if he could physically prevent us from wanting to bicker each other to death. “I know you would dearly love to believe differently, Arden, but Nathaniel’s right. I…” He faltered, then pressed on. “I’ve never been able to trust that my desires are my own. If I’ve always had them, if they are indeed, for better or worse, a part of me. Or if they’re…they’re Lancaster’s…and by indulging them I am only surrendering to him.”

“Oh, Caspian.” Unthinking, I reached for him, cupping his face gently between my hands and drawing it down to mine. “It doesn’t matter where your desires came from. They aren’t his because you aren’t him, and you’ll never be him. And he can’t control or keep you or hurt you anymore.”

“But,” he whispered, “what if I don’t want to be like this?”

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