“Easy?” Xander laughed, but there wasn’t an ounce of humor in it. “Honey, there hasn’t been anything easy about you. Not since the day I met you. And definitely not in the last few days.” Xander gave her a small smile. “You’re one of the most hard-headed women I’ve ever met. You’re strong. Confident. Independent. And you fucking make my blood boil.” Cupping her face with his hand, he leaned in closer. “Last night, you made me burn for you. I was willing to do damn near anything to just be near you. But only you. No one else. Don’t you see that?”
Mercedes stared back at him, tears glistening on her long lashes. “I’m weak.”
“The hell you are,” he argued. “And if you keep this up, I’m going to bend you over my knee, Mercedes. This isn’t who you are.”
“It is. I’m a submissive, Xander. This is exactly who I am.”
“Is that what you think? That submitting to someone means you’re weak?” He knew she did, but he wanted to force her to think it through. “Is it? Do you truly believe that being a Domme gives you all the power? Have you learned absolutely nothing in the last few days?”
Mercedes tried to push away from him, obviously pissed at his accusations. He didn’t let her go.
“Being a Dom doesn’t define me. And being a submissive doesn’t define you.”
“Oh, but it does,” she argued, anger burning bright in her eyes.
“It’s about perception, Mercedes. You see what you want to see. Everyone sees what they want to see. When we were at Devotion, and I had you strapped to that bench, do you think I was in control? No, pet, you were.” Xander wiped away a tear that slid down her cheek, lowering his voice. “You’ve been in control since the moment I met you. Since the very first time I laid eyes on you. It didn’t matter whether you were submitting to me or not.”
“I don’t feel in control. I hate this, Xander. I don’t want to roll over and give up. I spent too many years doing just that.”
“I don’t want you to give up either. I want you to fight. Fight for this. Fight for… us.”
“But you want me to submit to you.”
“Yes, I did. I still do. Because I want you. I want to take care of you, Mercedes. I want to give you what you need. I want to bind you to me, to know that I mean as much to you as you mean to me. But I want so much more than your submission.”
“I grew up submitting. He broke me. He broke my mother. All of my choices were taken away. He ruled everything.”
By “he”, Xander knew she was referring to her father. The son of a bitch didn’t deserve to be walking.
“You weren’t submitting, Mercedes. You were reacting. It wasn’t submission; it was self-preservation. He was a bastard for what he did to you and your mother. Don’t ever compare the two. It isn’t the same.”
“What’s the difference?” she asked, her lips trembling.
“Love,” he said easily.
Mercedes tried to step back again, looking as though he’d slapped her when he said the single word that he had a feeling scared her the most.
“I love you, Mercedes,” he told her as he wrapped his arms around her waist, not letting her get away from him. “I have always loved you. I loved you before you submitted, and I love you just as much, if not more, now.”
Her eyes widened, but she stopped trying to get away.
He had absolutely no idea what she was thinking, but at least, for the moment, she was right where he wanted her. In his arms.
~~*~~*~~
Mercedes was pretty sure she was hearing things.
Xander loved her? That’s what she thought she heard him say, but it couldn’t be true. Could it?
Before she had the chance to ask him to repeat what he’d said, Xander kissed her.
It was gentle and sweet, and it made her skin tingle from the inside out. His lips whispered over hers, and her heart felt like it tumbled in her chest. It was a kiss, but it was so much more.
“I love you,” he said again. “And I’m not saying that as a Dom to a submissive. I’m saying that as a man to a woman.”
This time, Mercedes heard him loud and clear. Taking a moment to study him, she peered into his eyes, trying to read between the lines.
But that was the problem. There weren’t any lines. This was Xander. He didn’t play games and he damn sure didn’t say things that he didn’t mean.
“You love me?” she asked incredulously, her voice hoarse from her tears.
“More than anything.”
Xander pressed his lips to hers once again, but not quite as gently. She could taste the bourbon on his tongue, but not only that. There was something else. Passion. Love. Acceptance. That’s what she tasted.