What had I been thinking? How could I dream of resting in Matthews' arms when I didn't deserve him? I should be far away from this family, as far away as possible.
My breathing picked up. Slowly at first, but when my panic failed to dissipate, I knew what was coming. Fast pants left my lips in bursts. I hated when that happened. I hated to lose control of myself and my thoughts, especially in front of someone I dreaded to show any kind of weakness.
The room began to swirl, so I closed my eyes, locking myself away in darkness.
"Ethan, calm down." I heard Matthews' voice, but the sound came from far away—like an echo distorted by a deep water column.
He shook my shoulder. "Ethan, can you hear me?"
I nodded.
"Do you trust me?"
Did I? Yes. I did. I nodded again.
"Tilia, go put on a movie upstairs, sweetie. I'll take care of Ethan." His voice was still miles away, but I heard Tilia's light footsteps touch the carpet as she left without a word.
Calm down, I told myself, but it didn't work.
"I'm going to wrap you in a blanket, Ethan. There's no need to struggle."
I didn't respond. No need to struggle, he had said, but that was easy to say for him. Easy in theory, next to impossible in practice. My body ached to lash out and get rid of the building tension.
My eyes flew open as he pressed my back down on the soft couch, but seeing the worried frown on his forehead took the fight right out of me. I stilled and watched him as he found a blanket and wrapped me into its tight confines. Constricting. Straitjacket. What the hell was he doing?
Matthews must have caught on to my anger. "Don't think, just calm down. You can get out of this if you want, it's just to keep you embraced."
I tried to listen, tried to do what he instructed. He was right. It was a simple blanket, not something designed to keep me restrained.
"Close your eyes."
This time I didn't fight his command.
Oddly enough, after an unknown amount of time, my breathing calmed. Breath by breath, I found my way back with the help of Matthews' soothing caress. His hands traveled across my body in slow circles. Shoulder to hip, hip to chest, chest to shoulder.
"Better?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Do you remember what I said about honesty?"
I did, but I wasn't ready to talk about any of this with anyone. If he asked me what caused the attack, I would have no choice but to lie if he pressed for an answer. Even so, I nodded.
"I will back track through our conversation, and I want you to answer yes or no to my questions."
Keeping my eyes closed, I nodded again, this time reluctantly.
"I talked about you spoiling Tilia, and I said it was alright. Did that make you uncomfortable."
"No."
"Good. However, I took it one step further and said something about you someday having more responsibility of raising her. Did that make you uncomfortable?"
I wanted to curse him. Simple questions, innocent questions, but how could I possibly explain.
"You don't have to answer."
He knew. I could hear it in the tone of his voice. I would have panicked again if not for the silence and his soothing hands still at work. A wave of gratitude flushed the lingering traces of panic aside.
"Thank you." My voice was weak, but it carried. The old me would have been ashamed of my reaction—of my quick submission—but some part of me still wanted us to work. I wanted to find a solution to everything. I wanted to dream and hope.
"No need to thank me, Ethan. I'm proud of you for trusting me, and now I know more about what caused this reaction. So, don't worry about this. Wherever we're going, we'll take it slow, okay?"
Hope.
I let go of the darkness and met Matthews' gaze. He stood on his knees beside the couch, looking calmer than I thought he would. Almost serene—as if my bout of panic hadn't ruffled him in the least.
Our connection held; his eyes and mine not straying away from our silent conversation even for a second. It was intense, and the intensity grew stronger and stronger until I whispered, "Okay," in response to his question.
He leaned down, touching my lips with his in a soft caress. So soft, but I wanted more. Struggling to free one of my arms, I lost my kiss until my fingers caught around his neck and pulled him down again.
Our next kiss wasn't soft. Not in the least. It was the release of pent up desire and conflicting emotions. It was the melting pot of clashing thoughts and fears. It was demanding and giving.
It was perfect.
———
Matthews unwrapped the blanket and allowed me to sit up. "You tired?"
I was exhausted but also full of sizzling energy from our heated kiss. Strange.
"I'm fine."
Matthews gave me another brief kiss and stood up. "I have to eat something."
Oh, I forgot. He must be hungry, I thought and felt bad about stealing his morning away.
"Do you want some coffee?" he asked.
"I'll make you some," I said instead and rose from the couch before he could do anything about it. As I walked past him, I flashed a smile—a smile that grew when I saw his surprised expression.
I knew it was difficult to understand how I could move from panicked to seemingly carefree, but I didn't want to think about the specifics. I felt fine for the moment, probably because Matthews had worked his magic, and I wouldn't let my fears shove me back into darkness just yet.
Matthews followed me into the kitchen, but as he moved to fetch the remaining pancakes, I thought of Tilia.
"Why don't I fix you a plate while you go check on your daughter."
He stopped and turned toward the doorway, looking at the stairs she'd climbed. Decision formed, he gave me a brief nod and hurried up. The poor girl must have been very confused about what happened, and it was all my fault. I felt bad, but I also knew that Matthews was better suited to smooth over my meltdown.
They came down a few minutes later—Tilia watching me warily from the stairs for a while before she made her way down.
In her usual fashion, she walked right up to me. "You better now, Ethan?" The concern in her voice almost cracked me again.
I knelt down and gave her a hug which she returned. "I'm all better. No need to worry. Sorry for scaring you."
"It's okay." She leaned back from the embrace and turned her head over her shoulder. "Now can I go watch more, Daddy?"
"Yes you may."
Tilia was all smiles as she ran up the stairs again, apparently eager to get back to whatever it was she was doing.
"Let me guess, she's watching Frozen?" I said.
He laughed which was an answer in itself.
We settled down at the table, Matthews digging into the food while I stirred some sugar into the coffee. For a while, the only sounds filling the room was cutlery scraping china and the soft 'tick tock' from the clock hanging on the far wall. The silence started out as a comfortable one, but my thoughts soon drifted to the situation with Vidar. I wanted to know more. Much more.
I braced myself and took the leap. "What happened at the club yesterday?"
A slight twitch of his nose told me that it hadn't been as smooth as he had hoped.
"I wouldn't say he took it well, but we agreed to break the contract. I'm going to help him find another suitable Dom."
The first emotion coursing through my system was relief, but after relief came a faint trickle of sadness. Even if I didn't know this Vidar, I had no reason to dislike him, and even less reason to wish him anything but happiness.
"I'm sorry."
"There's no reason to be sorry, Ethan. It is what it is, and as I told him, if he had fallen in love with someone else, I'm pretty sure he would have wanted to get out of the contract. He agreed."
I almost choked on the coffee. Sometimes this man strung words together in a way that took me completely by surprise. Did he just say he had fallen in love with me?
Trying my best to calm down, I thought about his words one more time. I was jumping to conclusions, but damn it was too easy to jump when he said things like that.
I decided that I couldn't afford to jump in the wrong direction this time.
"Hold on. Just stop. What did you mean with what you just said?"
Matthews leaned back on his chair, and I thought I caught something akin to embarrassment sweeping across his expression.
He cleared his throat. "What I meant was that I'm falling for you, Ethan. I thought you knew that."
He was serious. He was fucking serious.
My coffee spilled all over the table as I leaned across and smashed our lips together once more. He tasted like maple syrup, but the kiss wasn't sweet at all. It was raw passion all over again.
A/N ah, a little taste of what kind of tricks Matthews has up his sleeve, and some sweet sweet lovin'. I smiled so hard while writing the last part of this chapter.