Page 31 of The Ties We Break

Sooner than I would like, I start to feel that tell-tale sign of my balls and the muscles around my lower abdomen beginning to tense. I know she feels it too, but I tell her anyway. “I’m going to come, Belle. Are you going to swallow like a good girl?”

She doesn’t even bother to answer me, choosing instead to show me with her mouth by sucking harder. With a loud roar, I release spurt after spurt of cum down her throat. She pulls my cock out of her throat slightly until I finish the last few squirts on her tongue.

Sitting up on my lap, pushing her hair out of the way, she sticks her tongue out so I can see the creamy white spunk on her tongue before she swallows it. Licking her lips with a devilish smile, I lightly chuckle as I think I’ve unleashed a monster.

“Your turn,” I announce as I start to pull her towards my head, but as I do, a loud rumble erupts from her stomach, and we both laugh, the blush appearing across her cheeks again. Better get my woman fed before any more play. “Change of plans. You stay here, and I will get us some breakfast. You know where the bathroom is if you need to use it, there's a new toothbrush in the drawer under the sink if you want one,” I explain as I stand up and walk towards my drawers. I can feel her eyes checking out my naked body as I slide on a pair of baggy grey sweatpants and throw one of my black T-shirts with a Batman logo her way.

With a smile, I head out to the kitchen to make breakfast as she pulls on the shirt and heads to the bathroom. I try not to focus on how fucking gorgeous she looks, drowning in my T-shirt, or that she looks even better in my bed. I’m so fucking screwed.

Once I’ve whipped up some poached eggs on toast and a couple of coffees, I return to the bedroom. Belle is sitting in bed, wearing my T-shirt, and looking just as beautiful as when I left her. She appears to have a tablet in her hand, but as I get closer, I see it’s a Kindle Paperwhite. With a raised eyebrow, I question her. “Why do you have your Kindle?”

With a gentle laugh, she smiles at me sheepishly. “I carry it in my bag all the time. I can never pass over the opportunity to squeeze in another chapter.”

I shake my head at her but in a fun way. This girl is obsessed with her books, I have never met someone who reads as much as she does, and honestly, I never thought it would be attractive, but it is. “What do you love so much about reading?” I ask as I hand over the lap tray that holds her breakfast and coffee.

Before answering, she gulps down a mouthful of coffee, not stopping to see how hot it is, before releasing a very satisfied groan. “I like the escape. I started reading lots when my mum died. My dad shut down, he couldn’t handle losing the love of his life, and he failed to see that there was still a piece of her left behind. A piece that needed him, and he wasn’t there. I was in so much pain, so I started spending a lot of time at Sian’s house, or Cherry, as you know her. Her mum, Jill, loves to read and practically has a whole library in her house. She told me that whenever I was bored, or my mind was running away from me, I should pick up a book, so I did, and I fell in love.”

I was so engrossed in listening to her story that I hadn’t even touched my breakfast. Having already buttered and cut up her toast while talking, Belle began dipping it into her eggs before she continued.

“My life changed so much, so quickly. We lost the house that I lived in with mum because dad blew all the money. I basically raised myself because he was either never there, or when he was, he just didn’t know what to do. I wouldn’t say I had a bad childhood, and I know my dad loves me. When he’s sober, he always apologises for the things he does when he is off his face, but then he goes and does them again, starting the circle over. His apologies began to mean less, and I wondered if he ever really cared about me.

“I got to my teens, and despite having that escape, that way to keep me as calm as possible, I couldn’t help the anger I felt towards my dad. One night, when he refused to let me go to Sian’s because he was drunk and not thinking straight, I yelled at him and finally told him how I felt. He confessed that he hated looking at me because I look so much like her. I was devastated, and no matter how much he apologised after and said he didn't mean it, he had confirmed my worst fear, the thing I already knew. After that, I didn’t try with him anymore. I just lived in the same house as him. Jill and Daryl, Sian’s parents, were the parents who raised me. They were the family I chose and ran to whenever I needed help. My dad is the person I escape from with my books.”

When she finishes talking, I can’t help but reach over and gently stroke my fingers over her cheek. She presses into my hand with a small smile. “You are so brave and strong, Belle. You literally amaze me every day,” I state with pride. “One day, you will meet a man who loves you enough to build you your own library, full of all the books you have ever read or want to read.” Her eyes light up, and it pains me that I won’t be the guy to make that dream come true.

“Thank you. I would really love that, but please don’t feel sorry for me. Yes, I started reading to escape, but now I just read for the sheer love of it. Right now, I have nothing I want or need to escape from. You have taught me so much about myself and have given me so much confidence. I don’t know if I will ever be able to thank you.”

“It’s a good job you don’t have to do then,” I say, leaning in and giving her a sweet, chaste kiss.

I notice she has almost finished her breakfast, and I still haven’t even started, so I waste no more time digging into the toast. Once we are both finished, and I move the plates to the side, I pull Belle against me again, needing to keep her close. This bubble will have to burst soon. These ties we have to each other, they’re not sturdy. Someday soon, the ties we make will need to become the ties we break.

With her head nuzzled against my chest, I can’t look her in the eye, but I hear her whisper. As her words register, I can see why she's asking me cautiously. “What about you? You don’t talk about it much, but what about your family?”

Taking a deep breath, I remember all the trust she’s put in me over this short amount of time, and I know now is the time to show her that I trust her too. But it involves discussing something I have never spoken about with anyone except Kian.

“I didn’t have a very good childhood, and up until the age of eight, I would say I hated it. My mum was a drug addict, and I don’t even know who my father is. I was raised, if you can call it that, by her and her pimp. He was a pitiful excuse of a man named Bishop, and he got my mum hooked on heroin so that she would become desperate for more. That way, he could use her desperation and convince her to prostitute herself to get them both a fix. When she didn’t make enough, or he had a few too many drinks, she became his punching bag. Sometimes I’m not even sure they knew I was still in my bedroom.

I stayed in my room a lot; it was easier to stay out of their way. Plus, Mum occasionally entertained her guests in the kitchen or living room, which was the last thing I wanted to see. There was no point in going into the kitchen anyway; there was never any food.

When I started attending school, I became a bigger problem for them. Before, I could stay under the radar, and I would be surprised if health professionals even knew I existed, but when I legally had to go to school, it became clear there was a problem. My school clothes were always tatty and dirty as she never washed them, and they were second or third-hand, to begin with. The water barely worked, depending on whether they had paid the water bill that month, so every morning, I had to get to school early and sneak into the school gym changing room to shower. There are only so many times I could stand being called smelly.

It took my teachers a good couple of years to fully understand what was going on with me. Obviously, I didn’t ever say anything. I knew what Bishop would do to Mum or me if I did. But, I had other problems that the teachers just couldn’t ignore. I didn’t grow as much as the other kids in my class because I was severely malnourished. The only meal I got was the free one the school provided at lunch, and I wolfed that down like the starved kid I was.

Then, one morning, my teacher caught me. I had just finished in the shower and was getting dressed while breaking into some of the lockers to see if I could find little bits of money or food. I never took much, just enough to not be missed and to feed me. My teacher not only caught me stealing and breaking in, but my shirt was still off. She saw the array of bruises in shades of black, blue, and purple. Some were new, some old. She could also clearly see the welts on my back from where he beat me with his belt until I bled and the burns all over from where he took pleasure in putting his cigarette out on me.

You would think after that, things would move pretty quickly, but you would be wrong. I was sent home to await a formal assessment, which took longer than it should have, leaving me in a very volatile situation. A lot of bad shit happened that I don’t want to talk about, but I will say that this moment is the reason I always tell you I’m a bad guy and that you should walk away. Eventually, I ended up in foster care and met Kian. He’s the family I chose and where I class my childhood as beginning.”

I have never spoken about my past, and I’m surprised I told her that much, but honestly, it felt like I couldn’t stop once I started. When I finally risk looking at the beauty in my arms, I see her eyes are misted, and tears fall down her cheeks. She wipes them away before placing her hands on either side of my face. Despite looking sad, I don’t see pity in her eyes, which I’ve always worried about. Instead, she is looking at me with fierce determination. “Oh, Dec, baby…you have been through so much. You don’t ever have to tell me what happened unless you choose to, but I can tell you now that no matter what it is, nothing will ever make me think or feel differently about you. Yes, you have an angry side, and probably a sad side that you hide really well, but nothing I have ever seen from you has made me think you are a bad guy—quite the opposite. I have spent my life struggling to trust, not bothering to form relationships with people that don’t exist in my books because I don’t like people. People leave, and they break your heart. And despite us starting in a rather unorthodox way, I felt that trust with you from very early on. Not just because I was attracted to you, but because my heart could tell you could be trusted. You may think you are a beast of a man, but you aren’t. I have seen the real you, probably more than anyone else, except for Kian, and I can assure you that you are not only a good man, you're one of the best. I know this because I wouldn’t develop feelings for you if you weren’t.” The passion and determination in her voice make my heart soar, and when I hear the words at the end, my stomach flips in a good way until it finally sinks in. This is a dangerous slope, and I don’t know how to get us both off it.

“Belle, you can’t be developing feelings for me. I am a bad guy, and I will break your heart. We have no chance of a future. Even if I like you, how could anything possibly happen between us after the auction? Not only will you be moving to England, but I will not be able to look at you knowing someone else has fucked you. I warned you; I’m a monster. You have to listen,” I affirm as I gently remove her from my side and stand up to begin pacing. Running my fingers through my hair, I feel like my head will explode. We are stuck between a rock and a hard place, and only heartbreak awaits us in the end.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers from on the bed. She pulls her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around them before pulling my oversized T-shirt over her, covering all of her petite body and making it appear like she’s tucked up like a ball. Despite the tears in her eyes and her sad expression, I can hear her determination when she talks. “I can’t help how I feel. I also can’t change our situation. I will do my best to simply see our time together as training, but I can’t make any promises. Unfortunately, we may be able to choose our family, but we can’t choose who we love.”

That four-letter word is like a knife to my gut. I know she isn’t saying she loves me, but that is the only direction having feelings for someone will head. Unless I put a stop to them now. I’m not bothered about breaking my own heart, I'm used to it being in pieces, but I will not break Belle’s. It’s better to hurt her now before she is in too deep.

“Belle, I mean it when I say I’m a bad person, and you absolutely cannot have feelings for me. I’m going to tell you how I became a monster. You will want to leave when you hear this, so just know that I have loved our time together, even with the imminent ending constantly hounding over us. I’m sorry things can’t be different, but I am who I am.”

I pause, looking for her to shift or become upset, but she holds her own, waiting to hear the story I have been too afraid to tell anyone.

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