Page 73 of Possessive Ink

“Atticus,” I squeal, taking a step forward and being thwarted by his arm around my waist.

“Settle,” he demands, pulling me back into his warm, damp chest.

“I just want to go,” I say, feeling the defeat and shame in my words. How did I let this happen? How did I get so sucked into this narrative he’s created where we live happily ever after?

“Oh hell the fuck no,” he says, lifting me off my feet and carrying me out of the closet and into the bedroom.

“Atticus, put me down,” I demand, pushing at his hands and swinging my legs from side to side in an attempt to get him to let me go.

Ignoring me, he dumps me onto the sofa, then stands over me, his arms crossed over his broad, tattooed chest. “What the fuck is going on?” he demands.

“You want me to leave,” I say, like it’s obvious.

“The fuck I do.”

“You asked for space,” I barb defiantly.

“No, I offered you space,” he corrects.

“Because you want me to leave. You said we needed to talk. That’s what you say before you ask your hookup to go home.”

Closing his eyes like I’ve said something infuriating and he’s searching for strength, he exhales, his shoulders rising and falling as he forces the air from his lungs.

“Look, I get it. This has been intense. You’ve said things you didn’t mean. But you don’t need to worry. I won’t hold you to anything,” I assure him, forcing my voice to stay calm even though it feels like my soul is weeping inside my chest.

“Lemon,” he growls.

“Seriously, Attic⁠—”

“Stop talking,” he interrupts, speaking through gritted teeth. “You’re not leaving.”

“Well, you have to say that now.” I sigh.

“I have no fucking clue where you’ve got this stupid idea in your head, but you’re not leaving. Ever.”

“But—”

“Ever,” he hisses. “I said we needed to talk, not because I want you to go, but because it’s been pointed out to me that I need to fully explain the significance of the collar I gave you.”

Lifting my hand, I touch the gold necklace with my finger.

Inhaling sharply, his expression turns pained. “I told you that you were mine, right?”

“And now you’ve changed your mind?” I question, refusing to allow my disappointment to leak into my voice.

“No,” he snaps. “For fuck’s sake, no. I’ll never change my mind. You’re mine. Now, tomorrow, forever. But collars are a sign of commitment, and wearing one is the equivalent of a wedding ring in the kink community.”

An involuntary gasp slips from my lips. “A what?” I ask, unsure if I heard him right.

“Usually, there would be a collaring ceremony. Our friends would attend and watch us commit to each other.”

“But you gave me this the day we met, literally a couple of hours after we met?” I question.

“I know. I had it made years ago, thinking that I’d give it to my sub. I assumed I’d meet someone in the lifestyle and that we’d commit to each other by her agreeing to wear it.”

“But I’m not in the lifestyle. I’m not a sub. We barely know each other,” I say, the words coming so quickly they’re barely coherent.

“Lemon, you may not realize this about yourself, but you’re incredibly submissive. But honestly, I don’t care about any of that anymore. I don’t care that you don’t have experience with the kink community. Honestly, I’m grateful that you don’t because the idea of you kneeling for anyone else makes me feel sick. I knew you didn’t understand why the collar was important to me, but I wanted you to wear it because it means you’re mine. It means that I want to show the world that you belong to me, and when you asked if I would wear one too, I was totally serious that I would, even though that’s not what Doms do. I want everyone to know that we belong to each other and that nothing and no one will change that. I’ll wear your collar around my throat and my dick and get ‘Property of Lemon’ tattooed over my heart because I’m yours now.” Inhaling shakily, Atticus’s stormy eyes fix on me, willing me to hear and understand what he’s saying. “But as much as I wanted to claim you in a way everyone would see, it was wrong of me to give it to you without explaining what it means to me. I spoke to a friend earlier while you were sleeping, and she reminded me that it wasn’t okay to do that. And she was right, because I don’t want to claim you without you realizing how I feel about you.”