Page 25 of The Ties We Break

I can’t deny that I have already done the math to see if I can still survive my first year in University on the money I would make just from auctioning a night with me, minus my virginity, but it won’t work. Yes, I could afford it financially, but it’s a stupid plan. After taking my virginity, there is no way Declan would be able to stand idly by while I fuck someone else. Then what will happen when I move away? Is he going to give up everything and run away with me? As much as I may want it to be, this is not a fairy tale. There’s no happily ever after in our future.

What I need to do is learn to distance myself from my heart. I need to be able to finish his lessons without falling for him further and getting my heart broken. There will be plenty of orgasms, but that’s all. We’re already on a countdown, and it won’t be long until I have to say goodbye to Declan for good. I just hope I can do it without losing a part of me, a part I can never get back.

Fuck, I have a bad feeling that I’m very screwed.

Aloud buzzing sound wakes me from the deep sleep I was in, I realise too late that it’s my phone ringing. By the time I fumble my hand over to it, the caller has hung up. Looking at the time, I’m shocked to see it’s past midday already. It’s so unusual for me to be in bed so late, but then again, I don’t typically stay up all night fooling around with a gorgeous, brooding man like I have done for the last couple of nights.

Since the night of the fight, Declan calls me over to his flat in the evenings, and it became clear to me early on that he’s a night owl. Then again, running a club means working late hours.

The night of the fight, after he brought me home, he was true to his word. He introduced me to a wand vibrator that he used on my clit, and holy fuck did it open up my world, but it also led to my first punishment. I came without permission, and as a result, Declan made me wait until the next night before he punished me. The anticipation built for a whole day, waiting and wondering what the hell he would do to me. That was a punishment all by itself. When the time finally came, he spanked my ass with a paddle twenty times. I have to be honest and say that at first, bent over his knee with my ass in the air, I felt humiliated, but then he started. I’ve never experienced anything quite like it. As the hard, wooden paddle collides with my stinging flesh, this weird pleasure and pain sensation that overcomes my body is indescribable, and despite the fact I hate being in pain, I want more.

When he got to twenty spanks, my ass was red raw, but my pussy was dripping wet. That’s when he licked me for the first time, and I can’t even begin to describe how that felt. Dec must have enjoyed doing it too, because every time we are together, it’s like he can barely wait before he’s feasting on my juices.

I perfected the art of the blow job over the last couple of nights, and I’m even starting to enjoy it. I learnt to take all of Dec’s cock surprisingly easier than I expected, given his size. But once Declan taught me to relax and how to fight against my gag reflex, it became a lot easier for me. I even started to enjoy the power it gave me. I may be in a submissive position, with Declan manipulating my movements by controlling my head with his hand, but I have never felt more powerful. To know that using just my mouth, hands, and tongue, I’m able to bring a gorgeous man like Declan to his knees; it’s a confidence boost like no other.

My big problem is that I’m starting to like the ‘in-between sex’ moments with Declan too. Like last night, we both realised after our first round that we hadn’t eaten, so we ordered takeaway. We sat on the sofa together, sharing loads of different Chinese dishes while we just talked. Even though Dec was reluctant to talk about his family or his past, his love for Kian became more than clear. He sees him as his brother, and they have a bond just like they're an actual family.

I talked a little about my mum, how we lost her, and what that did to my dad. It’s almost like a piece of him died that day too, and he’s never really been whole again. So he spends all his time doing whatever he can to numb the pain.

As well as talking, we are also starting to spend more time just being with each other after the sexy time. Dec calls it aftercare, and he explains that it's the requirement of the Dom to ensure the sub is well cared for after a scene. But the problem is, I’m having difficulty separating it and seeing it as Dec doing his job. It might be cuddling after sex or even falling asleep spooning each other. I know I shouldn’t, but I see it as more time embracing this gorgeous man and learning all about him.

What we are doing goes against all of Declan’s rules, all the walls he erected to stop us from developing feelings for the other person. But, every time we break those rules, every time we hug, spoon, or fall asleep together, that wall gets a little bit shorter. I’m starting to feel things for him, something that will only really fucking complicate things between us. But, not only can I not help it, I also don’t want to.

I know it’s stupid and that there’s no happy ending for us. But, still, I would walk through fire just to feel what I’m feeling now. I know I can’t have more with him, and that’s my fault, or maybe it’s fucking fate messing with me. But, while I do have Dec, I’m going to embrace every experience, feel everything, and push for more. Then, I just have to hope like hell that I can mend my broken heart when it’s over.

No matter how many rules we might bend, the sleeping over part is one rule we have stuck to, but only because every time we fall asleep together, I always wake up a few hours later and leave. I never want to go, I want to stay with him, but I can see how conflicted he looks each time it happens. He wants me to stay, but he needs us to follow the big rules since we are bending so many smaller ones. So I make the decision easier for him and leave.

I know the more time we spend together, and the moreotherstuff we do together, I’m slowly starting to see the real Declan, not the face he seems to put on. Many times he’s told me he’s dangerous, that he has a past he isn’t proud of, and that someone as good and pure as me should never be tarnished by someone like him. But that isn’t the man I see. He’s never elaborated on what he means, but based on what I’ve seen, he isn’t evil. If anything, I think there is a sadness and loneliness to him that he tries very hard to hide. The problem is, the more I tell myself that I know he is a good man, the more my heart wants him. I am starting to become attached and develop feelings for this man, despite knowing nothing can happen between us. Two people like us can never get our happily ever after. Only pain and heartbreak lie in our future.

At the end of the day, no matter how much I start to feel for Declan, it won't end well. I have to do the auction, and I have to sell my virginity to another man. Even if Declan could get over that, and by some fucking miracle we could survive that, what will happen when I move to England? His life is here. Kian is here. So, no matter how I feel, I need to put a stopper in it right now, or I will get my heart broken.

I’m pulled out of my depressing thoughts by the ringing of my mobile again. I already have it in my hand to ensure I don’t miss the call. “Hello,” I answer.

“Morning, beautiful. How are you feeling?” asks Declan.

“I think it’s technically afternoon, and I’m doing okay, thanks. Well…except my ass is a little sore.”

Declan's slightly sadistic chuckle echoes through the phone, and I can’t help but roll my eyes. Trust him to be pleased it’s still sore. “That’s the whole point of the punishment, Belle. Maybe next time you will do as you are told. Tonight, can you come to the club around eight? You will need to be very open-minded tonight as I’m going to test out a lot of the higher-level elements. We only have two weeks until the auction, and I need to make sure you are ready. So, we are upping the level today. Is that okay?”

His words cause my stomach to flip, and I'm not sure if that’s a good or bad thing. I feel like ants are burrowing under my skin as nerves begin to get the better of me. I need to gain control of this. “Am I still allowed to use my safe word and call for a pause, things like that?” My voice sounds timid and unsure, which I hate. I don’t want him to think of me that way.

“Relax, Belle. You will always be able to use your safe words and pauses. I will never do anything you don’t want me to. If ever you feel uncomfortable, we will end it. But the things we will be playing around with today are mid-level things that people will pay extra for. But, even if we take away the auction element, this is about you learning what your body likes.”

I don’t know how he does it, but he always knows the right words to say. His deep, rugged voice has me swooning to the point I’m barely even registering what he’s saying; I just know I agree with him. Although, I do make sure to pay extra attention when he gives me the instructions I need for tonight, determined to avoid any more punishments. I don’t think my ass can take some more tonight, even if the idea thrills me. I make a mental note of what he tells me to wear. He loves to make sure I’m dressed a certain way. This time he wants me in a short, skater-style black dress that he already knows I own since he has taken it off me before, a pair of high, black stilettos, and no underwear.

He never usually likes it when I’m wearing lots of makeup, which is good because I hate wearing it too. I don’t mind a little bit of eyeliner or mascara to make my eyes pop, or lipstick to emphasise my lips, but that’s usually all I bother with. So that’s all I do before I pull my hair up into a messy bun that actually looks like I spent a lot of time and effort getting it to look that way. A final look in the mirror, combined with a mini pep talk, and I’m finally leaving.

Just as I’m heading out of the front door, my father calls out my name from the living room. For the last week, I’ve been avoiding him. I’ve been with Declan most of the time, but when I’m home, I just haven’t known what to say. There are only so many times I can listen to his empty apologies. But he’s still my dad, and I can’t just ignore him. So I place my bag on the floor by the entrance and walk back to our small yet well-kept—thanks to me—living room.

“Wow! Look at you all dressed up. Are you going out again?” he asks, looking at me disapprovingly. I can tell he’s trying to make it sound like he cares instead of judging, but I know him too well. Besides, I don’t know how he would react if I told him I’m wearing no underwear and am on my way to a sex club to practice selling my body to make up for his mistake. He would be horrified.

“Thanks. Yeah, I’m not sure what time I’ll be back, so don’t wait up,” I reply curtly, angling my body slightly towards the door, making it clear I don’t want to be here any longer than I have to.

“Issy, I’m worried about you. For the last week, you have been going out lots and coming home at all hours. I know you’re mad at me, but I recognise destructive behaviour, and I don’t want you to fall into that.” As each word registers, my blood begins to boil, and my hands tighten into fists.

Turning to face him, my eyes glare as my eyebrows furrow, my expression distorting as I let my anger out in a snarl. “How dare you judge me? I’m getting out of the house because I can’t stand to be around you, Dad. You have not just hurt my feelings or disappointed me, like you have done time and time again since Mum died. This time, you broke my heart. But I’m not giving up on my dreams. I’m working all hours I can to bring in some extra money. Just because you hit the self-destruct button when there’s the slightest bit of trouble doesn’t mean that’s what I’m doing. I am fighting, just like Mum would have done.”

I know I’ve gone too far as soon as the words leave my lips, but I can’t undo it. I think years of animosity built up until I finally lashed out. I’m not proud of it, and I hate seeing how my father’s face crumbles as he hears what his only daughter is saying to him. But I couldn’t be more right. Here he is on a Saturday night, lounging around in the same sweatpants and T-shirt he had on when I last saw him three days ago. He has a beer in one hand and another on the table. I also see the rolled-up joint balanced on his ashtray alongside the regular cigarettes. When I come home tonight, the ashtray will be full, the booze will be empty, and my dad will be lying in a pool of his own vomit. I know this because it’s what he’s done every Saturday night since Mum died.

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