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Return to Grace Street
  • Текст добавлен: 9 октября 2016, 12:34

Текст книги "Return to Grace Street"


Автор книги: Ella Dominguez


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Текущая страница: 15 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

22: Rise & Fall

Smoothing Elsa’s hair away from her face, Victor tied it in a knot behind her head. His touch felt kind. Warm. Welcome. The sounds of the music he had cued drifted all around her, filling her with a sense of urgency to have his hands on her and to have the pleasure that she hoped he would grace her with, rather than punishment.

“We don’t always get what we want, Elsa...” he spoke softly as he fingered the remaining loose strands of hair behind her ear. “I’m not ready to share my notes about you. I don’t know that I ever will be. That’s just something you’ll have to accept.”

She had hoped he would divulge and disappointment washed over her.

“But what we do get are the things we need…” he continued as his scent enveloped her in a drift of expensive cologne. “The things that are good for us even if we don’t know it at the time that they’re happening.” He paused to lightly chafe his shadow-beard across her jaw. “My life has been shitty at times, but it was what I needed to become the man I am today. Just as all the heartbreak you’ve endured is what you needed to become the strong woman that you are right at this moment.”

She shook her head no and turned away from him, but his hands gripped her head firmly.

“Even if it’s not what you want to hear, you know it to be true.”

She didn’t want his statement to be true. She didn’t want to believe his words, but they hung in the air above her like a thick mist after a summer storm. She swallowed noisily against the ball gag as she contemplated his words. Maybe he was right…

“We don’t always get what we want,” he repeated softer than before as he moved away from her.

The sound of his pants zipper being dragged down and the buckle of his belt hitting the floor made her lower belly tighten. The air moved around her and she felt the heat of his body in front of her.

"I know what you want, Elsa. I’ve known all along. I knew the first time we met in this house what you really wanted.” His fingertips sculpted the curve of her cheek before gliding downward to skim between her breasts and down her stomach. “You remind me without words what you want every single time we’re together.”

Even without sight, she could feel the weight of his scorching gaze on her skin.

“You want to be taken control of. To be made to do things that you’ve only imagined in that wicked head of yours. To be owned.”

The bunching and quivering of her muscles was felt beneath his hand as he ghosted it over her labia.

“I’m here to give you want and need, Peach. What we both need.”

His fingers loosened the strap at the back of her head, the gag falling to the floor with a soft thud. Her soft exhalation floated across her saliva-soaked mouth as the words to Hurricane by Thirty Seconds to Mars suddenly became louder. The deep bass rumbled through her body, heightening her senses. The mere touch of his hands made her skin tingle as he cupped her chin and held her head steady as he pushed the crown of his cock past her lips.

“This is what you need,” he whispered, delving into her mouth. “Take it all, Elsa.” His hands guided her head. His movements were slow, easy, relaxed. Her body went limp as the euphoria of the moment began to warm her. She felt his body move as he shifted his stance and his thrusts began to come rougher and at a more rapid pace.

“This…” he grunted as he pushed past her tonsils, making her gag loudly and her body stiffen. “This…” he breathed out as he pulled her against him, forcing the entire length of his cock into her throat, making her breathless.

She did her best to hold still, but as each second ticked by slowly, her lungs began to burn with the need for oxygen. All of her muscles tensed and just when she thought she would have to fight for her life, Victor released her, allowing her to take in a big gulp of air.

“You think I’m angry with you, but I’m not. I’m too tired to be angry. If I’m honest with myself and you, I’m proud of you. You’ve played this game admirably, Elsa, and this isn’t punishment. I’m simply giving you what you need.”

Over and over, he filled her throat, pushed her past her limit of comfort and made her struggle for air, and every time, she came closer to feeling as if she would fly.

“Fuck…” he moaned out when she swallowed against his shaft. The tightening of her throat muscles against his cock sent a painful ache shooting down her spine. His hands and body began to quiver when she did it again, and she knew that he needed this too.

In the blink of an eye, the blindfold was ripped from her eyes as he stared down at her. Once more, he held her against him. Her eyes began to water profusely, but she held his gaze. The same predatory look he had earlier was back

“No one will ever give you what I can,” he stared down at her, his voice steady and thick with lust. “No one will ever understand you the way I do. No one will ever understand me the way you do.” He spoke as if defending his case to her. “I’ve never told anyone the things I’ve told you. I don’t trust anyone the way I trust you.” A sudden look of panic flashed across his chiseled face. “We’ll never find this again with anyone else. Can’t you see that we belong together, even if it’s wrong?”

He pulled out of her mouth. “Do you want me to stop?” his eyes glistened with wanting. Her drool covered lips hung open as she waited for him to take her again. “All you have to do is tell me to stop, Elsa. Just say the word and I’ll end this sweet torture.”

She stared blankly up at him. She couldn’t say it. She didn’t want it to stop. Yes, she did need this, and she hated herself for it and him for being the one to open her eyes to the pleasures of surrendering one’s self. Goddamn him. This thing between them was wrong, but it felt right. Not always, but sometimes…

She closed her eyes but his voice boomed loudly above her. “Look at me. I need to see your eyes.” Her eyes flicked open and fixed on his mouth. “Tell me what you want,” he tipped her chin up.

“This,” she croaked out. “You,” she opened her mouth to accept him.

His eyes grew wild with some unknown emotion. Spots began to fill her vision when, yet again, he began fucking her mouth roughly and cutting her breath short. She almost lost her nerve when he held her longer and longer each time, but decided to give herself over to his relentlessness. When she did, she tried to relay her message of acceptance through her eyes.

The light around Victor’s face suddenly became blinding and his eyes brighter than she had ever seen. Her mouth was filled with the taste of him and when her vision began to gray, she suddenly felt as if she was floating above herself. Just when the feeling of warmth wrapped itself around her body, he let her loose. She choked and gasped, and inhaled so deeply an explosion detonated in her. What came next was a racking sob that overtook her body. When she began to shake uncontrollably, Victor fell to his knees and hugged her close.

“Where ever you go, Elsa, I’ll always find you. I’ll always long for you. Nothing will ever change that.”

Emotions so devastating made her wail like she had never done before. Unable to stop herself, she crawled toward him, wanting to be within his arms. She felt as if she had just orgasmed even though there had been no sex. She was scared. Elated. Angry. Excited. Panicked. Every emotion that was feasibly possible was coursing through her veins and flooding her brain. The sound of her own voice drowned out the music.

Victor stood, bent down, unshackled her and picked her up off the floor. Gently, he carried her to the bedroom and covered her with a comforter as he rocked her. Helpless to do anything, she curled into a ball, mortified at her own actions.

***

Victor had witnessed sub drop before, but never to such a powerful degree. He was feeling the emotional affects of their scene as well and his body began to shake from the adrenaline rush. His cock was still rock hard from not having being allowed his own release, but Elsa was his first concern.

Her raspy breaths and strained cries drove him to hold her tighter. Still shaky with desire, he whispered things into her ear to soothe her. How beautiful she was. How much he cherished her tears. How bright her light was. How he couldn’t imagine what it would be like without her. All of it truth. All of it frightening to admit.

She was like warm, pliant clay, her body damp with perspiration, her arms limply draped across her chest. He trailed kisses along the side of her neck and stared down at her as she lay next to him, seemingly incapable of movement. Slowly her tears subsided and her eyes fluttered closed but quickly flew back open, a look of sheer panic flashing in her blood-shot and puffy eyes.

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere,” he reassured her.

“I feel terrible,” she feebly whispered.

“What you’re feeling is normal,” he smiled down at her, trying to ease her despondency.

“It doesn’t feel normal. It feels like…” she swallowed noisily and looked past him.

“Like what?” he probed.

In typical Elsa fashion, she changed the subject to avoid his question. “Why did you point Nathan in my direction?”

He hesitated, but Nathan was out of the picture so he decided there was no point in trying to lie about his intentions any longer. “I didn’t want you to be alone. Now answer my question. It feels like what?”

“Like I did when you left me before.”

Victor’s mouth twitched with agitation and shock. He hadn’t left her. She had left him.

“You didn’t want me to be alone, but I was. After I left that day, you were still there. I could feel you all around me. I’d see your eyes on me when you didn’t think I could see you. I’d smell your cologne when you got too close. You were better at hiding than before, but I knew you were still there, watching my every move and in some twisted way, I was comforted by that. In my head, it was because you cared. But then… then you just disappeared. You were gone without any warning. You didn’t even wean me off of you; you just left, and I was alone, Victor.” The tears began to build up again. “Was Chapter Nine better than me?” she hugged herself and stared into his eyes.

He reached for her hand and brushed his lips against the delicate skin of her inner wrist. “I came back for you, didn’t I?”

She glanced up from beneath her tear-covered lashes. “Why did you come back?”

He reached for her phone lying on the nightstand and cued the song My Heart is Open by Maroon 5 before answering her. With her hand back in his, he pressed his mouth to her wrist again. As he searched for the words to say, he felt the rapid beat of her heartbeat against his lips. He knew by answering her honestly, he was giving away too much and too fast, but looking at her was like seeing a reflections of how he felt – fatigued, betrayed and confused by the turn of events in the game.

“Because there is no one better than you; because I wanted one more chance to be with you before you gave your heart away forever; before I lost you completely.”

23: Reality Check

No matter what Elsa had tried to convince herself of, she had never gotten over Victor. He was saying all the right things and she couldn’t stop thinking here was their second chance. It was most likely just another trick of light, but the light was so beautiful, even if it wasn’t real.

“Don’t you feel the least bit sorry for what we’ve done to Nathan?” she stared up at him as he dried the tears from her cheeks.

His faint, roguish smile gave way to shock. “Sorry? He spent a year with you. For the twelve months that you were with him, he got to hold you, see your smile, feel your body against his, your mouth on him, your eyes focused on him… Sorry? I don’t feel the least bit anything for him except envious.”

As she lay in his arms, his bright eyes dulled under her concentrated gaze.

"This whole situation is so fucked up. This game. This thing between us. It’s exhausting. God, I’m just so sick of it and tired of hating Mr. Black one minute to wanting a future with you the next. A future I know will never happen.”

Silence. Painful and agonizing. She could see Victor drifting away and Mr. Black resurfacing. Perhaps it had been his admission from just a moment ago or her words…

"Go ahead and let that side of yourself take control, Victor. I can see that you want to, so go ahead and let Mr. Black erase that beautiful, vulnerable expression off your face and replace it with one of indifference."

"Anthony Bruce is my father.”

The spontaneous words that spilled out of his mouth came so effortlessly, all she could do was sit in stunned silence, blinking rapidly, her mouth hanging open.

Lines of worry collected near the corners of his mouth. Quieter, his voice lowered to a mere whisper. "Here’s a reality check, Elsa: half of what created me, my own flesh and blood, is a serial killer. The other half was an abusive, neglectful drunk.”

***

Victor’s gut stirred with disgust and shame. He had never told anyone about his connection to Bruce. Not even Anthony knew.

"Why me?" her eyes glittered with bewilderment.

“Because if anyone deserves to know, it's you."

She shook her head as if unable to grasp what he had just confessed to her. "But why now?"

There was no way to tell her the truth without scaring the hell out of her. Jesus, the truth scared the hell out of him. "You once told me you loved me. Now that you know the ugly truth of my ancestry, do you still fantasize about a future with me? With a man who's capable of what my father has done? To have children with a man who has murder in his bloodline?"

"But you're not your father or your mother. I don’t care what you try and convince me of, I know you aren't capable of those things," she rose up to face him fully.

His expression darkened and his eyes narrowed. "Are you sure about that? Really sure? Because I’m not. You want proof? Then read the rest of my journal.”

Elsa’s eyes widened. “You could never do the things Anthony has. You would never… murder. Not when you’ve dedicated your life to bringing those kinds of people to justice. Why can’t you see that?”

Once she quieted down, her introspection turned into something else. Loathing? Fear that he might make her repay him for his confession?

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head; this bit of information is free,” he waved his hand in her direction.

"I’m not afraid of you. And what you’ve told me doesn't change how I feel about you."

He gaped at her. “After everything I've done to you, and knowing what I've done to others... how can you still be so naive? Haven’t I taught you anything? Haven’t you learned anything from our time together?” He stood and sank into the nearby chair, feeling disappointed that nothing had been accomplished with her. With his head leaned back and staring up at the ceiling, he sighed miserably. “You should leave now."

"I don't want to leave."

The tone of her voice was heartbreaking, but he needed distance. Why the hell did he tell her how he really felt about her when it would all come down to this?

"Just go, Elsa.”

"I want to stay with you, Victor. Please let me,” she crawled to him, resting her hands on his thighs.

"God damn it, just go…” he refused to make eye contact, worried he would see the hurt in her eyes that he was causing her. He could feel Mr. Black hovering like a vulture ready to swoop in on his prey. “I don't want to hurt you!" he startled her with his raised voice as he pushed her hands away.

"You promised you wouldn't," her voice cracked.

"And I'm trying to keep that promise." He fisted his hair when he caught a glimpse of her still tear-soaked eyes. "Please, just go."

“Why did you tell me about who your father is if you’re just going to push me away?” she stood and placed her hands on her hips.

Why did she have to be so Goddamn stubborn? Finally meeting her bold gaze, he answered. “Because the man who tried to kill you was no stranger. My father put him up to it.”

***

The gasp that left Elsa’s mouth was louder than she had intended.

“He’s also most likely the copycat killer who’s suspected of murdering at least four women.”

A cold shiver made her body shudder. “Why would he want me dead?” she backed away from Victor.

“As revenge against me. I guess. I don’t know. He’s a sick fuck. My recent meeting with him didn’t go well and I…,” he gulped loudly and shook his head. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have threatened him. I know how men like him react when backed into a corner; like a fucking animal. I suspected he was somehow involved with the killer at large and I just wanted to prove it. But I never thought he would do something like this.” He rose from the chair and pulled her close. “You’re damned lucky to be alive,” his voice cracked over the last word.

“I’m damned lucky you were there to stop him,” she promptly corrected him, feeling the emotions from earlier rising up in her again and threatening to make her break down once again.

“You work in just a few hours,” he led her to the bed. “Try and get some sleep.”

“What about you? You need to rest, too.”

“No, I can’t. I need to get back to the office. I only stopped by to make sure you were safe.”

“So then I can stay?” she asked as he began to tuck her in.

He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “Yes. Anyway, you’re safer here.”

*

Elsa woke feeling miserable, like she had been punched in the gut. Like her heart had been ripped out and stomped on. She was moody and irritable though she didn’t know why or how to get out of her funk. Victor’s words kept replaying in her mind. All the sweet things he’d said, everything in between, and even the harsh ones kept floating through her head. She was remembering the way her body responded to him each time he’d made love to her and every time he had fucked her. The smoky images of the night before were on the edge of recall but were blurred out by the knowledge that a serial killer had attacked her. Still on her mind was the way Victor had taken her the night before and the incredible high she felt, followed by the powerful low; the low that was still lingering.

The rest of her afternoon passed slowly. One moment she felt fine. The next she felt more unhappy than before.

As she sat at her desk staring at her unfinished work project, she vaguely heard the door open. Victor’s hands descended on her shoulders, kneading her tight muscles. She closed her eyes, hoping it wasn’t a dream. She leaned her head back and opened her eyes, staring up at him as he stood above her. His beard was overgrown, his clothing wrinkled, and his beautiful, tortured eyes, tired.

“You look so tired, Victor. Why don’t rest on the couch in the lounge?” she touched the top of his hand as he continued to work her shoulders.

“I wish I could. I don’t have time. Things at work are going down fast. The media will be all over this soon. You should prepare yourself. You’re name is going to be out there are as the one who survived.”

Elsa’s stomach cramped. She hadn’t even told her family about the assault. “But what about you? Won’t people ask questions about why he targeted someone you’re involved with?”

He sighed miserably. “I can’t think about that. I just need to get all the evidence lined up and ready so we can make an arrest. As for Bruce…” his eyes darkened with hatred. “I’ll be paying him a visit later today. I won’t be home until late.” He stepped back and brought something out of his coat pocket and laid it on her desk. “This is for you.”

She knew immediately what it was. “Don’t I need a permit to handle a taser gun?” she blinked in astonishment of his odd gift.

“Yes. You have one,” he nipped the back of her neck.

“But how…”

He spun her chair around and silenced her with a kiss. “Don’t ask.”

He promptly stood her up and gave her a quick tutorial on its use. His body behind hers, his hands on her, his smell and his calm voice all around her did nothing for the depression she was feeling. When she sunk back into her chair, concern shone on Victor’s face.

“What you’re feeling is normal…”

What the hell did he know about how she was feeling? She couldn’t even explain it herself. She was anything but normal and she just wished he would stop saying that.

He grabbed a pen lying on her desk and wrote something down on a piece of note paper. “Look this term up on the internet later. It’ll help you understand what it is you’re feeling and how to cope with it. I’ll check in on you every few hours. I wish I could help more…” his eyes roamed over her face. “Stay with you, but I just can’t. Call your family. Prepare them for the media blitz the best you can.” He strode to the door slowly as if not wanting to leave. He hesitated as his hand touched the doorknob. “I’m sorry that you have to go through this because of me…”

Elsa rushed to him and wrapped her hands around his waist as she pressed her face against his chest. She wanted to tell him that it wasn’t his fault; that Anthony and that horrible man were the only ones to blame, but she knew her words would fall on deaf ears. Victor had been blaming himself for everything wrong in his life for so long, her words wouldn’t make any difference. Instead, she held him, hoping that her actions would speak louder than the words she couldn’t find the courage to say.

His arms hung limply by his sides, reminding her of Nate’s indifference and only making her feel worse. Would she never find a lover who could give her the simple affection that she craved? She held him tighter, not wanting to let go, hoping that his warmth would take away the chill that had settled in her bones. Slowly, his arms came out and pressed her closer to him. She felt his lips against her hair as he kissed the top of her head, and then he was gone.

Back at her desk, she eyed the piece of paper he had scribbled onto. Sub drop. She had no idea what she was reading or what it meant, but quickly did as Victor had instructed and did an internet search.

She was astounded at the all the information that popped up about the term she had never heard of. As she read in detail exactly what she was feeling and why, her mind whirled with new revelations. She wasn’t into BDSM. She wasn’t a submissive. She wasn’t an athlete. So why was she experiencing this?

The image of herself being bound and utterly controlled flashed in her mind. If she was completely honest with herself, what she and Victor had been doing was a form BDSM. But what he was doing to her couldn’t be so easily labeled. And even though she was allowing him to control her and dictate rules, did that really make her a submissive? She didn’t think so.

When she was finished reading, she ended up with more questions than answers. Still, there had been good tips on how to deal with what she was feeling. Each site she checked stated aftercare was the most important thing that needed to be done, which is precisely what Victor had been doing all along after each of their scenes. He had even shown up in the middle of his and her workday to reassure her that he was present.

He was a good man. Caring. Kind. Conscientious to his lovers. Mr. Black wasn’t influencing his actions. Not last night. Not today. But for how long would that part of himself stay dormant? Not forever. It would be foolish to think that it would. Mr. Black was an ingrained part of his personality. And maybe Victor did need him. With the things he had to deal with at work and the kinds of people whom he was dealing with… Maybe having Mr. Black around wasn’t always a bad thing.


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