Breaking Perfect (40 page)

As
if she said some sort of magic word he snapped. Her hips were suddenly hoisted
into the air and his cock plunged between her wet folds, slamming in to her. He
shouted and she immediately began to come around his hard cock. Her sex clamped
down on him like a vise, so tight she felt her body squeezing him out, but Sean
would have none of that. He held onto her, forced himself back in, burying
himself to the root.

“
Fuck
,
Liberty!” She gave herself over to his care. Sean’s body slammed into hers
again and again. It went on for days, weeks, years. She lost all sense of time
and being. One orgasm whirled into another forming a tornado of pleasure. He
held her tight and lost himself in her body. She felt his control break and had
never before felt closer to him. This was Sean. She realized then and there
just how much he had been hiding himself.

When
he came it was like a tsunami flooded her gates. Her mind could take no more.
The most brilliant spectrum of color spread behind the lids of her eyes and a
sense of absolute peace blanketed her. For the first time in her entire life
she was completely free. It was as if she were taking her first breath. She
embraced the tranquility and let the world fall away.

“Get
off my wife.”

* * * *

The
snarled words startled Sean and he jerked his attention toward the door. Mason
stood, still dressed from work. He’d obviously gotten his message. Sean looked
down. His softening cock eased out of Liberty who was nothing more than a
marked up puddle of sweat and wild curls. Her shoulders moved softly. She had
fallen asleep, fallen into subspace. Never in his life had he experienced
anything so intense. She had come more times than he could count. She was
magnificent. Incredibly strong—

“I
said get off of her!”

Sean
jumped and stared at Mase, temporarily struck dumb. “Mason, look, it looks bad,
but you don’t—”

“If
you don’t climb off of her this instant, so help me God I will kill you.”

A
cold stone of dread settled in Sean’s gut as ice seemed to form over his heart.
He’d never seen Mason so angry, as if he held his control by a thread. He knew
it looked bad, but… “If you’d just let me explain.”

Mason
marched into the room as if he planned on steamrolling Sean. He quickly leaned
back and stumbled off the bed. Mason’s disgust was a living thing. It choked
Sean and he was terrified suddenly that nothing he said, no amount of
explaining would make this right. Old fears of rejection and not meeting
certain standards prickled his mind.

Mason
staggered to a stop, his eyes locking in on Liberty’s flesh. Her face was
completely hidden by tangles of curls. Her arms still rested where they’d been
tied above her head. Her thighs were sprawled. Wide, red palm prints marred the
porcelain skin of her backside and thighs. Sean winced as he noticed his cum
seeping out of her sex, mingled with her own juices. Mason’s fingers shook as
he reached out to touch one pink handprint on her skin. Sean wasn’t sure if he
even made contact. The punch that slammed into his face came out of nowhere.

He
stumbled into the wall and knocked over a small table as he went down. Pain
exploded behind his eyes and his skull seemed to rattle. The clatter of all
those dainty little boxes Liberty lovingly placed all over the house, boxes too
small to put anything in, caused a racket in the otherwise silent room. Sean
quickly caught an especially delicate little box before it hit the ground and
shattered.

Mason
stood over him, shoulders bunched, fists held wide at his side, and scowling
with a rage Sean had never seen. “I want you out of this house.”

And
there went his heart. Sean could almost hear the crack.

“I
trusted you with her. How could you…just get out!”

Sean
swallowed. He deserved nothing more. He gingerly moved his jaw and it cracked.
He slowly pulled himself to his feet and grabbed his pants. “I’ll be gone
within the hour.” He looked at Liberty, wanting to touch her one last time, but
knowing he had lost the right. He suddenly felt sick. Was this him turning into
his father? The marks on her body suddenly seemed so ugly and painful he
cringed. He needed to get out of there.

* * * *

Mason
lifted Liberty into his arms, careful not to touch her tender skin. He was so
angry he couldn’t even allow himself to fully face what he just walked in on.
At first he had heard the sound of bedsprings and grew excited. The scent of
sex permeated the air, drawing him nearer. But then he had walked in and found
Liberty’s hands tied, not tied as if they were playing around with light
bondage, but tied in a way her fingers couldn’t escape.

Sean
had been fucking her. Hard. Memories of that morning and how fiercely Sean had
taken him came flooding back to his mind. The force, the intensity and greed
Sean had used solely to satisfy a selfish desire. Mason was different. He was
bigger than her and he had consented to such roughness, wanting a bite of pain.
Liberty was fragile.

A
soundless cry of worry had left his mouth when he saw her collapse as if from sheer
exhaustion as Sean filled her up with his release. And then he noticed her skin
and wanted to kill him. Splotches of angry shades marring her perfect flesh had
him seeing red. How dare he lay a hand on her in such a manner?

She
moaned and he brushed her hair away. Tracks of tears marred her sleeping face.
Rage, toxic, volcanic rage warred with his need to handle her gently.

He
gritted his teeth as he carefully unknotted the sash wrapped around her hands
and cradled her sleeping form in his lap. Mason wanted to find Sean and punch
him again. Harder this time. He wanted to mark him the way he had marked
Liberty, but he couldn’t leave her like this.

She
sighed in his arms, the sound relieving a bit of his tension. He kissed her
temple and she stilled. “Mason?” She opened her eyes. “Where’s Sean?”

Mason
pressed his lips together not trusting himself to answer. He didn’t want to
further upset her. Liberty didn’t handle sudden change well.

“What’s
going on?” She sat up a little more.

“Careful,”
he said, worrying over her abused body.

“Where
is Sean, Mason?”

“I
told him to leave.”

“
What
…why? Like leave the room?” He
didn’t answer. “Mason, tell me you didn’t throw him out.”

She
made to scramble off the bed. He tried to hold her with him, apparently needing
to comfort her more than she wanted his succor. She pushed him away. Her
refusal of his touch shocked him. There was a kind of panic in her eyes he
didn’t recognize.

Her
rejection of his reassurance and comfort discomfited him and in frustration he
shouted, “He hit you, Liberty. I want him out of here.”

She
shook her head and made an alarmed sound in the back of her throat. She looked
at him with an expression he’d never seen on her before. Not fear. Not anger.
Not distress. Disappointment.

“How
could
you?” Before he had a chance to answer she turned and ran out of
the room. “Sean!”

Baffled
and suddenly frightened, he frowned. Had he given them too much time to
themselves? A very real sense that he wasn’t as secure in his position as he
assumed took over. He didn’t like feeling unsure of himself. This was
ridiculous. If she had to make a choice would she seriously choose Sean over
him, her husband? Not wanting to wait around and find out he quickly went after
her.

Mason
found her kneeling in front of the guestroom door speaking softly. “Please let
me in, Sean. Don’t do this. Please. He doesn’t understand.”

Her
last words hit him like a punch to the stomach. Fuck this. “Liberty.” She only
turned to scowl at him. “I want him gone.”

“Shut
up, Mason!”

He
froze. She’d never spoken to him that way. What was happening here?

“Sean,
please open the door.” There was nothing but silence as the minutes ticked by.
Liberty sat naked on her knees by the door and Mason watched, speechless.

He
observed silently as a tear slipped past her lashes. She pressed her palm into
the door and he noticed her skin was red and scratched. He frowned, but before
he could say something she began to whisper. The pleading in her voice, the
vulnerability…it disarmed him.

“You
helped me, Sean. You got it out. The bad pain went away.” She shut her eyes and
more tears slid past her lashes. “That’s never happened to me before. I’ve
never felt so free, liberated to the point that nothing else mattered. Please
believe me. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Mason
frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. What had he missed?

“I
look at my hands and I feel shame,” Liberty softly confessed as she bowed her
head and cradled her hands in her lap. “What I felt in there with you had
nothing to do with shame. It was surrender to a force
I
chose, not one
that
forced
me
into a choice. I found control in surrender. All
of my life I’ve tried to combat those difficult moments and never once have I
won. It was always stronger. But you helped me beat it, Sean.
 
You.” Her palm pressed into the door again
and she stood. Without looking at Mason she whispered, “Please don’t leave me.”
Then she walked past him as if he were a ghost.

He
flinched at the sound of their bedroom door.

After
a few moments he finally snapped out of it and pounded on Sean’s door. “Open
the goddamn door, Sean. I want to know what the hell is going on.”

He
listened for a moment. He could hear Sean moving, the sound of drawers opening
and closing. He stepped back and leaned against the opposing wall and
waited.
 
He was torn between going after
Liberty and finding out what the fuck really happened.
 
He was beginning to suspect he’d missed
something momentous and his guts were in knots.

After
about fifteen minutes the door finally opened. Sean held a large duffle bag in
his hand and a pillowcase filled with what looked like toiletries and
additional clothes. He froze when he noticed Mason standing there. His eye was
black and blue and Mason noticed the remnants of tears on his cheeks.

“Just
let me get my stuff out of the study and I’m gone.”

He
was so torn. Part of him wanted him to go. Part of him needed, selfishly
wanted, him to stay. Part of him was terrified he alone wasn’t enough to make
Liberty stay after Sean left. And part of him broke at the thought of seeing
him leave. Of watching his family break apart. Sean dropped his bag by the
steps and began to head toward the study.

“Wait.”

Sean
paused, but didn’t turn around.

“Tell
me what I missed. I don’t understand,” Mason pleaded.

“It
doesn’t matter. If you actually think I would ever lay a hand on her in anger
then none of it matters.”

Guilt
lanced through his gut. SO many of Sean’s issues stemmed from his fear that he
would one day turn into an abusive monster like his father. If he’d wrongly
accused him of being just that, he’d never forgive himself. But what he had
seen…

“I
fucking well can’t imagine you hurting her! I trusted you! That’s why I snapped
when I saw her collapse beneath you, your handprint all over her delicate
skin.”

“What
did Liberty say?” Sean asked, his back tense.

“She
isn’t speaking to me.”

He
turned and faced him. The black eye was turning into quite a shiner. Mason
fought the contradicting urge to go over to Sean and soothe the bruise versus
giving him another one.

“KarLyn
called.”

“What?”
Of all the things Mason expected Sean to say, that absolutely was not one of
them.

“KarLyn
called. She called and it upset Liberty pretty bad. Libby told me she would
tell you when you got home, but not to worry you while you were at work. I was
scared she would hurt herself. I could tell she was upset, but then, after we
ate lunch together and some time passed, she said she was fine. I didn’t really
believe her at first, but she was really convincing and kept reassuring me I
had nothing to worry about. Eventually I had to run out of the room for something.
I wasn’t real keen on leaving her so I was as fast as I could be. I literally
was only gone for a minute or two. When I came back she was at the sink.”

Mason
swallowed, fear filling his stomach. “Did she hurt herself?” he rasped.

“Barely.
I got there just in time. I interfered before she could do any real damage. I
watched her…she fell apart, man. I never saw her like that. I was so scared and
I wanted you to be here to make it all better. I don’t know enough about what
she needs to know what to do in situations like that. I held her and she cried
for a long time. Stupid asshole that I am, didn’t realize she was sitting right
there in my arms hurting herself. She scraped the skin off her hands, leaving
long gashes that’ll probably scar, and sort of lost it again when I forced her
to stop. Worse than before.

“I
didn’t know what to do. I texted you, but I didn’t know if you were in surgery
or if you would be able to leave. I had to do something. I needed you here.
Then we sort of began to talk. She told me about it, the compulsion inside of
her to get the pain out, to give it life. I’d heard similar things before, a
long time ago when I used to spend time at this club downtown. There was this
girl, Ashley. She, uh…she used to tell me there was this need inside of her to
feel pain before she could move past her shit. Like she had to let it out or it
would only grow bigger and bigger until she could think of nothing else. She
was a masochist.”

“Liberty
is
not
a masochist. What she has is totally different.”