Her mother's sin

FIRST TASTE OF CONTROL

Isolde stood in the middle of the massive bedroom Damien had given her. The collar sat warm against her throat now. It had been hours since he locked it on but she still kept touching it. Like her fingers could convince her this was not real. The city lights from the floor to ceiling windows kept the room from going fully dark. New York never slept and neither did she apparently.

She had changed into dry clothes he left for her. Soft black shirt. Pants that fit too well. Everything smelled clean and expensive. Nothing like her Brooklyn apartment.

The door opened without a knock. Damien walked in holding a glass with amber liquid. His tie was gone. Shirt unbuttoned at the top. He looked bigger in here. More dangerous.

"You are not sleeping" he said. Not a question.

"How can I?" Isolde crossed her arms. "I signed my life away to a stranger a few hours ago. My boyfriend is probably still at my mom's house right now. And this thing around my neck vibrates every time my heart rate goes up. What did you do to me?"

Damien took a slow drink. His eyes stayed on her face then dropped to the collar. "It monitors. Makes sure you do not lie when I ask questions. Small feedback if you try to break rules. Nothing you cannot handle."

"Feedback" she repeated. Her voice rose. "You make it sound like a fitness tracker. This is a leash Damien. I am not your pet."

He stepped closer. The smell of whiskey came with him. "No. You are my asset. Big difference. Assets get protected. Pets get spoiled. Sit down Isolde. We talk."

She did not sit. She backed up until the bed hit her legs. "Talk about what? How you are going to use me to take down the people who broke me? Or how you looked at me when you put this on like you already owned more than my signature?"

Damien set his glass on the nightstand. Hard. "Both. Kieran took millions from my bank. Your mother helped him hide it. You remember every conversation. Every number he mumbled in bed. Every drunk text he sent you weeks ago."

Isolde flinched. "How do you know about the texts?"

"I know everything now." He reached out and brushed a strand of damp hair from her face. His fingers lingered. "That drunk night he described f*****g you while you begged. You played along. I read them all. You liked some of it. Do not lie to me. The collar will know."

Her cheeks burned. "That was private. You had no right."

"I have every right. You signed." Damien's voice got lower. Rougher. "Tell me what he said that night. Exact words. Now."

Isolde swallowed. The collar gave a tiny warning buzz. She hated how aware she was of it. "He said he wanted me on my knees. Said I was too tight for him sometimes but he liked forcing it. Said he would choke me while he came so I would remember who I belonged to. Happy?"

Damien watched her mouth as she spoke. His breathing changed. "And you replied?"

"I said yes. I said I wanted it." Her voice cracked. "But it was just words Damien. He never followed through. Never stayed long enough to try."

He poured more whiskey into his glass. Drank half in one go. "That is the problem with boys like Kieran. They promise. They never deliver. I do not promise Isolde. I take."

The room felt smaller. He was drunk now. She could see it in the way his eyes glazed and his movements got looser. The powerful man from the car was slipping. Something hungrier was taking over.

"You are drunk" she said. "We should talk tomorrow when you are sober."

Damien laughed once. Short and dark. "Sober is for boardrooms. Tonight I want to see what I bought." He set the glass down so hard it nearly tipped. "Take off the shirt."

Isolde's heart slammed against her ribs. The collar vibrated stronger. "No. This was not in the contract."

"Everything is in the contract if I say it is." He moved forward. Slow but sure. "You need this Isolde. You need someone who does not lie to your face while he f***s your mother. Someone who will not leave you with cake on the floor."

Tears stung her eyes but she blinked them back. "Do not talk about that night."

"Why not? It is why you are here." Damien reached out and caught her wrist. Not hard enough to hurt but firm enough that she felt trapped. "Say it. Tell me you hate me. Tell me you want me to stop."

"I hate you" she whispered. But she did not pull away. The betrayal from earlier still burned so hot she needed something anything to drown it. Even this.

"Good girl." He pulled her closer. His mouth came down on hers sudden and rough. Whiskey on his tongue. Anger in the way he kissed. Like he was punishing her for what Kieran did. Or punishing himself.

Isolde gasped into his mouth. She pushed at his chest but her hands stayed there. Gripping his shirt instead of shoving. The collar sent a low warm pulse through her body. Not pain. Something else. Something that made her knees feel unsteady.

Damien broke the kiss and looked down at her. Breathing hard. "You feel that? The collar knows what you want even when you lie."

"Stop talking" she said. Her voice shook. "Just... do it if you are going to."

He pushed her back onto the bed. The mattress dipped under their weight. His hands moved under her shirt. Rough palms on her skin. "You are mine for the year Isolde. Starting tonight."

She arched when he touched her. Shame and heat mixing together until she could not tell which was stronger. "This is wrong. You are old enough to be... this is sick."

"Yet here you are. Wet for the man who collared you." Damien pulled her shirt over her head. His mouth found her neck right above the silver band. He bit down lightly. "Tell me to stop and I will. But you will not. Because you need to forget them."

Isolde moaned despite herself. The collar amplified every touch. Every kiss. It made her body react stronger than she wanted. She grabbed his shoulders. Nails digging in. "I should hate this. I do hate this."

"But you need it." He moved lower. Voice thick with drink and want. "Say it."

"I need it" she breathed. The words came out broken.

Damien did not wait after that. His hands and mouth took over. The room filled with their sounds. Her gasps. His low curses. The collar kept feeding her little shocks of pleasure every time she tried to hold back. It forced her to feel everything.

She wrapped her legs around him at one point. Hating how good it felt. Hating how safe his weight made her feel even while he ruined her. "Harder" she heard herself say. "Make me forget."

He did.

For a while there was nothing but skin and heat and the rain still hitting the windows. No mom. No Kieran. Just Damien and the collar and the dark promise she had signed.

Later when he rolled off her breathing heavy with alcohol and release he looked at her in the dim light.

"This changes nothing about the contract" he said. His words slurred just a little. "But it changes everything else."

Isolde stared at the ceiling. Her body ached in new ways. The collar was quiet now. Almost gentle.

She touched it again.

"What have I done" she whispered to herself.

Damien was already drifting toward sleep beside her. One arm thrown possessively over her waist.

Outside the city kept moving. Inside Isolde wondered if she had just traded one betrayal for another.

And whether she would survive wanting more of it.