Beloved

Author's Note:

'Beloved' is an actual story, with *le gasp* a real, honest-to-god plot and character development. So if you haven't read the previous chapters yet, you will be entirely lost if you try to read this - For optimal enjoyment, please go read the rest of the series first. I promise it's worth it!<3

On the same sort of note, this chapter doesn't actually have any sex in it (I know, I know!) - It is

incredibly

important for the plot though, so #noregrets - If you're looking for something a bit more fappable, please go check out the other chapters OR go read one of any of the other sexy-as-hell stories available on this site!

Also, here is my usual reminder that the events in this story are fictional and should never, EVER, under any circumstances be attempted or reenacted in real life. Like most of the works under the Non-Consent/Reluctance category, the things portrayed here are a fun fantasy to explore in a book or piece of erotica, but would be abhorrent and incredibly illegal/immoral in reality. Please enjoy it as the work of fiction it is!

Also ALSO, a huge shoutout to my friends who are helping to proofread this and poke holes in my prose, they're amazing, and SO helpful! Y'all rock!

If you enjoy my work, please consider following, commenting, or leaving a rating - It really helps me out!!!

Happy reading! ;D

xoxo,

G.M. Gardner<3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Does he think I'm a pet?

Or a teddy bear?

I didn't need to look to know which of the two men was holding me so tightly I could barely breathe, the feel of his arms all too familiar.

The rise and fall of Grant's chest against my back was slow and steady, the rhythm telling me he was still fast asleep and the way our skin kissed on the inhale sweat-sticky. I gave an experimental wiggle and the arm around my waist tightened, the leg he'd thrown over both of mine drawing further up my thighs as he buried his face in my hair with a soft, contented sigh.

I let myself melt into the warmth of his embrace, snuggling closer and pretending for just a moment that I was actually safe in Grant's arms before making myself open my eyes and face whatever the morning after might bring.

The bedroom was quiet and still, the glow peeking from behind the curtains cascading down the far wall too faint and gray to tell if it was early or just gloomy outside. Rumpled, sex-scented sheets topped the sprawling mattress, the chains hanging limply against the headboard stripped of their power as they glinted in the dim light.

The only sign of Rand was a dent on the pillow beside us, an unexpected wave of emotion that I couldn't quite put my finger on washing over me at his absence.

I followed the strange feeling downward to find it stemmed from a hollowness in my chest, an uneasy uncertainty left over from last night's whirlwind that almost felt like an itch under my skin, making me want to scratch at it until it eased. I wasn't sure where it had come from or what might soothe it, but getting out of bed seemed like as good a place as any to start.

I held my breath as I lifted Grant's arm from around my waist, extricating myself carefully as he gave a quiet grumble, face crinkling in displeasure for only a moment before smoothing again.

And as he rolled onto his stomach with a sleepy sigh to snuggle the pillow instead, I clapped a hand over my mouth to stifle my horrified gasp.

I'd let myself be convinced last night that Rand hadn't actually

hurt

Grant. Naively believed that those sickening screams must have been from something transient, some sort of punishment that hadn't done any lasting damage since Grant had appeared completely unharmed.

Apparently I'd just been looking at the wrong side of him.

I'd been down a lot of BDSM porn rabbit holes in my day, enough to have a name for the dozens of thin red stripes that were laid neatly across Grant's back as if they'd been painted on.

Caning.

Whenever I'd stumbled across it online, it had always turned my stomach. If it popped up unexpectedly in a video or erotica I'd hastily click away and either go find something else to finish fapping to or give up on my orgasm entirely, too squicked out by the inherent sadism in the act to want to keep going.

There was no closing the tab on those painful welts now, not when they were laid out barely a foot away from me. I was thankful for the dim light concealing the worst of the shadowy bruises forming around their edges, Grant's screams suddenly making perfect sense as I stared at the criss-crossed marks, unable to tear my eyes away even as bile rose in the back of my throat.

No wonder he looked so fucking scared.

I gave a shiver of sympathy as I reached out without thinking, the intrusive urge to trace those cruel crimson lines overwhelming in its intensity.

"

Don't.

"

I jerked my hand back as if I'd been burned at that gruff whisper. Rand was looming in the darkened doorway on the other side of the room, and while I couldn't see his expression - or lack of one - I didn't have any problem interpreting the commanding jerk of his head towards the hallway.

For a split second I considered waking Grant up accidentally-on-purpose, my stomach churning even more at the thought of being alone with the man responsible for those horrifying marks.

Rand seemed to read my mind, shaking his head firmly. "C'mon, kitten. Let's let him sleep."

I swallowed my fear and forced myself to move, sliding as quickly as I dared out of the huge bed and trailing along behind him to the kitchen.

Rand was already dressed, clad in gray sweatpants and a matching t-shirt, wireless earbuds tucked in his ears and sneakers on his feet. The stark contrast with my own nudity made me feel even smaller than usual as I stood awkwardly by the kitchen island, uncertain what to do with myself as he went through the motions of getting coffee brewing.

When Rand's attention finally turned to me I dropped my chin to my chest hurriedly, putting my hands behind my back and sending up a silent prayer that my little show of submission would be enough to keep him happy as one single word looped in my mind.

Mine.

The sheer power behind Rand's declaration was stamped into my skin like a brand, the collar that tightened around my neck as I bowed my head serving as a stark reminder that he had

meant

it.

In the heat of the moment that fierce claim had been a match thrown into gasoline, the absolute certainty in his deep growl sparking a traitorous answering thrill deep in my soul. Paired with the kindness he'd shown me and how gentle he'd been - all things considered - it had felt like the first step towards... Not

trust

, exactly, but something closer to it than not.

Now, after seeing the painful reality of what belonging to Rand meant scrawled across Grant's skin like a curse?

There was nothing left but fear.

No hope of disguising how I shrank away as he approached, holding my breath as I waited for him to grab me, to give an order, to-

"You can cook. Right, kitten?"

I blinked at the floor, taken completely off-guard by the question. "...Yes, Boss?"

"Don't sound sure," he commented.

I kept my head down as I said hesitantly, "I mean, I

can

cook? But Grant doesn't let me, and the kitchen's all locked up, so-"

Rand interrupted by pulling something out of his pocket with a jingle, pressing warm metal into my hand. I stared down at the familiar keyring, labeled neatly with things like '

Top Cabinets - Right Side

' and '

Refrigerator

', the weight of them in my palm feeling like the most illegal of contraband.

"You're on breakfast duty," he said brusquely. "Have fun."

"I'm sorry, that's- I mean, I

can't

- There are

knives

in here!" I squeaked, shocked enough to look up at him. "How do you know I'm not going to try to murder you and run away or something?"

Rand gave the barest of shrugs. "You might. Fair warning. I'm hard to kill." He tilted his head and scanned me slowly from head to toe, the corner of his mouth curling upwards ever so slightly. "Might need a stepladder."

I didn't have an answer to that besides '

Fuck you

'. I wasn't about to risk pissing him off though, so instead I pasted on a smile and said brightly, "Okay! What do you want me to make, Boss?"

I might have imagined the shadow of a frown that crossed Rand's face before he said unhelpfully, "Don't care. Just make a lot. Get dressed first. Got that, kitten?"

My answer of "Yes, Boss," came out just a bit too chirpy and cheerful, and Rand's eyes lingered on my smile a beat too long before he stepped around me and headed towards the hallway without another word.

I was in the middle of breathing a sigh of relief that he was gone when it hit me like a freight train.

A wave of pure

emptiness

, overwhelming and all-consuming, the feeling as tangible as if Rand had sucked all the air in the room out after him and left me standing in the vacuum, reeling and gasping for breath.

It came hand-in-hand with a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that was so close to fear I might have mistaken the two, except there was no flight-or-flight attached to whatever this was - Only a deep longing paired with the sharp sting of abandonment, the former startling and the latter making zero goddamn sense considering I was literally locked in a house with the man.

The potent combination oozed through my veins, viscous and vicious and nearly overwhelming me completely as I fought tooth and nail against the insane urge to run after Rand and beg for just a few more words.

Soft words.

Sweet words.

Words that might help close the gaping void in my chest instead of cracking it open wider, the fading sound of his footsteps sending a hairline fracture straight through my soul as my eyes overflowed with unbidden, unwelcome tears.

"

Oh my god,

" I whispered in horror, wiping at my cheeks frantically as panic rose in tandem with the emptiness. "It's finally happened, hasn't it? I've cracked. Gone off the deep end. Moved to fucking Sweden.

Goddamn it

..."

I don't know how long I stood there, shoulders shaking with silent sobs as I hugged myself tightly, not daring to move for fear that I would try to run to Rand for comfort. It wasn't until my breath finally smoothed out and the aftershocks ceased that I came back to my senses enough to realize how exposed I was standing in the middle of the kitchen, one last shiver running through me as I listened with bated breath for any sign that either of the men was nearby.

Nothing came. Not a peep from down the hall, not a single footstep, and I let out a long, shuddering breath, sending up a silent thanks that my little breakdown hadn't been witnessed as I gathered my pieces up off the floor.

I wiped my face and shoved all those unwelcome emotions back into the hole they crawled out of, telling them firmly to stay put as I dragged myself down to the basement to put on the day's armor.

Grant hadn't been lying about the gym, the unmistakable grunts and clangs that come hand-in-hand with picking heavy things up and putting them down again echoing from the other side of the large black door.

It was almost physically painful to force myself to turn into my bedroom and not knock on the gym door. To not see if Rand might open it, see me standing there and-

And do what, exactly?

I thought angrily, moving on autopilot as I wiped the worst of last night's pleasure from my skin.

Pat me on the head and tell me I'm pretty? Jesus, Kate, get a fucking grip...

I splashed water on my face and ran a brush haphazardly through my hair before tossing on my jeans and t-shirt. Flipping open a compact to start my makeup, I caught a hint of a sparkle from around my neck and angled the mirror down to get my first look at the newest addition to my rotating cast of collars.

My suspicion that it was made of that pretty star-speckled emerald velvet was confirmed, the rich shade accentuating the flecks of green in my eyes and the warmth inherent in my skin. There was a silver heart-shaped tag dangling from the ring on the front, engraved with a delicate cursive script that was difficult to read in reverse.

It was too long to be '

Kitten

', and I brought the mirror closer to squint at it, trying to decipher the looping letters.

"

'Katiebelle'

?" I said, sounding out the syllables slowly once and then again just to make sure I'd read it correctly. "Is that some kind of nickname, or...?"

If it was, neither of them had ever used it, and I was left stumped as to why in the world they would have gone to the trouble of getting it engraved on a tag.

Tossing that on top of my ever-growing pile of unanswered questions, I finished getting ready and trudged back upstairs, slipping the padlock off the fridge to survey its contents. It didn't take long to decide on '

simple, filling, and hard to fuck up

' for breakfast. I crossed my fingers that I wasn't going to mess up Grant's meal plan as I pulled out bacon and eggs and got to work.

Rand reappeared just as I was finishing up a huge pile of pancakes, freshly showered and dressed in jeans and a plain white tee. He nodded in approval at the spread, helping me move the platters to the kitchen island before dishing himself up a mountain of food.

"Looks good. Thanks, kitten," Rand said appreciatively, popping a piece of bacon into his mouth as he settled on the other side of the kitchen island.

I hated and loved how that tiny scrap of praise felt like I'd just won a gold medal, warm sparks exploding in the void in my chest and lighting it up for one brief, beautiful moment before the feeling faded once more.

There was no time to reflect on that traitorous reaction as I gave a quick "You're welcome, Boss," and a sleep-roughened voice drifted down the hall.

"Do I smell... pancakes?"

Grant shuffled into the kitchen, looking uncharacteristically disheveled with his bare chest and faded flannel pj bottoms. His usual grace was replaced with a stiffness that hinted at the pain he must be in, and he blinked at the spread before looking at Rand questioningly.

"You cooked and nothing's on fire? Or did the smoke alarm just not wake me up?"

Rand snorted, taking a large bite of scrambled eggs. "Nah. Kitten took care of it."

Grant did a double-take, looking around the kitchen in alarm before his eyes fell on me. Before he could speak, I held my hands up in mock surrender, rounding the island to offer him the keyring.

"Count the knives, if you want," I said, giving him a tiny smile. "Apparently I'm not tall enough to commit murder, so I didn't bother stealing any."

Rand made a noise somewhere between a chuckle and a cough as Grant rolled his eyes, tossing the keys on the counter and pulling me in to claim his usual lazy good morning kiss.

I was far too aware that Rand was watching, too worried about how he might react to any sort of unsanctioned intimacy between the two of us to reciprocate beyond not resisting, even though at this point I pretty much always kissed Grant back.

Which, for the record, was done entirely out of a sense of self-preservation, and not at all because he was a damn good kisser.

For his part, Grant either didn't notice or didn't care about my lackluster response, but as he pulled away my new collar caught his attention. "Oh, you put her in the fancy one, Boss?" he asked Rand, tracing his fingers over the velvet with clear interest. "Thought you were going to wait?"

The giant was preoccupied with polishing off the last of his pancakes, not looking at either of us as he said gruffly, "Just felt right."

Grant hummed, giving me a grin that was brimming with mischief. "Lucky you, pet." He leaned closer, dropping his voice to a teasing whisper. "He likes you too."

Then maybe he should act like it

, came a poisonous whisper from deep inside the void, and I tried to hide my flinch by pasting another smile on my face.

"Well, that's good! Are you hungry? I made plenty, so eat up!"

Grant's grin faded as I retreated back to my seat, putting my head down and forcing myself to eat. Rand also got a good morning kiss, a few quiet words passing between the two men before Grant loaded up his plate and dug in hungrily.

Rand finished up his breakfast and turned his attention to Grant's back, making the other man wince as he probed carefully at the marks.

"That hurt?" Rand asked, and Grant leaned his head back to give the giant a sarcastic look.

"Gee, I dunno, honey. What do you think?"

Rand tapped the tip of Grant's nose. "Brat."

"You love me," Grant cooed, laughing as Rand walked out of the room without so much as a grunt in reply. A glance over his shoulder to make sure the giant was gone and then Grant turned to me, his smile fading away once again.

"How're you doing this morning, pet? Feeling okay?"

I winced in answer, giving up on my last few bites of eggs and dumping my syrup-covered paper plate in the trash. "Pretty sure that's my line. How's your back?"

"Feels about like I got beaten with a stick," Grant intoned, rolling his shoulders with a comical grimace. "Weird, huh?"

I managed a strained laugh as he pointed to the ground at his feet, and I settled on my knees, taking the formal position Rand had taken care to drill into my head last night.

"When the hell did he have time to-" Grant cut himself off with a sigh. "Never mind. You can save the sitting up straight for the big guy, pet. Not my thing."

I tried to relax, looking up to find him watching me with an expression so far removed from his usual effusiveness that I didn't know quite how to interpret it. It wasn't nearly as inscrutable as Rand's default, but it was definitely guarded, a concerned furrow forming between his brows.

"You didn't give me an answer, sweetheart," he said, so gently it made my chest clench. "I know you kind of got tossed in the deep end last night. How're you feeling?"

"Oh, I'm fine!" I said just a bit too quickly, giving him that same painted-on smile. Grant looked pointedly down at where I was twisting my fingers in my lap, and I hastily tucked them under my legs. "No, really! I'll be fine, I'm just... tired."

"Really? Haven't seen a yawn out of you yet," Grant observed, raising an eyebrow. "Seems odd for someone so very

tired

, hmm?"

If it had still just been the two of us, I might have opened up and given Grant at least a basic outline of what was going on in my head. I knew him well enough by now to be certain there wouldn't be hell to pay for admitting how damn scared I was, how shaken and unsettled I felt in the aftermath of last night's events.

Unfortunately, with the looming threat that Rand might overhear and potentially get angry at one - or both - of us, there was no room for me to feel safe with even that small amount of vulnerability.

So I just shook my head, unable to meet Grant's eyes. "I'm fine, really. Nothing wrong at all."

I was spared further interrogation by Rand's return, Grant's frown deepening as I sat back up at attention instantly. A tiny pang of hurt rose when the giant didn't even spare my efforts a glance, busying himself spraying something on Grant's back that smelled sharply of antiseptic.

Grant gave a hiss of pain that turned into a sigh of relief, visibly relaxing as he shrugged into the oversized black t-shirt Rand handed him.

"Feeling nice this morning, aren't you?" he said with a grin, turning to give Rand a grateful kiss. "Is having our sweet little pet around already softening you up, big guy?"

"Don't push it," Rand said shortly. "You're on cleanup, pup. Then back to bed. Sleep it off."

Grant hesitated, glancing down at where I was trying my best to hold perfect posture. "Sure thing, but what about her, Boss?"