Текст книги "Return to Grace Street"

Автор книги: Ella Dominguez

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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

8: Q&A

Still weary from her orgasm, Elsa closed her eyes. Just as she felt her body drift into sleep, Victor’s arms encompassed her, lifting her off the mattress. With her eyes still shut, she felt them descend the stairs and then her body gently placed down onto the sofa. Prying her eyes open, she stretched out. He disappeared a moment later, leaving her alone. Her stomach rumbled with hunger and her mouth felt parched. She glanced over her shoulder, thinking he would be in the kitchen making them something to eat, but he was nowhere to be seen.

When he reappeared, he had a small treasure box in his hand that was adorned by a brass, lockless latch. Sitting down next to her, he placed the wooden chest onto the table and reached inside, bringing out two sets of leather restraints.

Elsa’s nerves tingled as he secured them around her wrists and ankles, hooking them together and immobilizing her with her arms behind her back. Leaning down, he sucked one of her breasts into his mouth, and blew across the damp nipple as he watched it pucker. Licking three fingers, he pressed them into her folds and circled them around, making her writhe from his sensual touch.

Was this a test? Was he planning on more sex? She had no idea. Nor did she care. She was there to give into his wants and she fully accepted that.

Next, he retrieved a blindfold. Dread filled her gut. Anything that involved a blindfold with Mr. Black was never good. As he reached behind her to secure it, her fleeting thought about giving into his wants floated away. After readjusting it over her eyes several times, he seemed satisfied.

When she opened her mouth to speak, something was swiftly placed into it – something malleable, yet firm and had the taste of an old rubber band or plastic. It filled her entire oral cavity and awkwardly held her jaw open. When she felt straps being manipulated behind her head, she realized that it was a ball-gag.

He picked her up in his arms and walked a few steps before delicately setting her down on the floor. The velvet rubbing against her back let her know that she was against the chaise lounge. Movement, shifting of her body and arms, and she was securely restrained to the foot of the lounger.

“This is how it has to be if you want to know my secrets,” he began to explain. “My terms,” she heard him moisten his lips. “I won’t have you running out the door when you hear something you don’t like. I don’t want you asking anything more,” he continued to clarify as drool began to pool out of her mouth and down her chest. “And I can’t bear your eyes on me,” his husky voice melted into a whisper.

She sat quietly contemplating all that his terms entailed because she was given no other choice, motionless because she was restricted to a small space, sightless because her vision had been stripped from her, and chilled because she was exposed and nude.

Elsa was now totally under Mr. Black’s control. Or was it Victor? With her ability to fight him, taken away from her, she prayed it was Victor.

Her hearing suddenly became acutely sharp and the smallest sounds seemed amplified. Her heartbeat. The rush of blood through her veins. A gust of wind outside. Her own soft panting. Light traffic on the street. Victor’s footsteps striding to the other side of the room. A zipper. Small things being sifted around. The rustle of a piece of paper being unfolded.

The list.

Paced movements and heavy steps on the carpeted floor. A deep sigh. An irritated grunt. Heavy breathing.

He was reading it. Would he give her what she wanted?

The weight of his body being tossed onto the chaise next to her was felt and the warmth of his body flowed over her.

“Why you want to know this shit is beyond me,” he grumbled. “Here goes nothing,” his voice changed.

Mr. Black was now present.

The scent of her own sex mingled with his caught her off guard and she leaned into him, mesmerized by the intoxicating aroma.

Minutes passed as she sat uncomfortably on the floor with saliva dribbling down her breasts and her legs uncomfortably tucked beneath her. She stretched her fingers and splayed her toes to get circulation back into them while wondering if Victor would ever follow through.

Just when she was beginning to give up hope, his deep voice sent goose bumps shimmying over her flesh.

“The first memory I have is of lying in my bed, watching as my mother vomited nearby. The smell of it…” he gulped loudly. “It made me wretch. I must’ve been around three years old. Maybe younger. I was hungry. Thirsty…”

Elsa’s nerves prickled and her heart swelled. He was answering question number three.

“I’d been alone for a day. Days?” his voice hardened as he questioned his own memory. “I don’t fucking know. I just know she wasn’t there and then she was, puking next to me, barking orders and screaming in my face.” He huffed in disgust before continuing. “Who the fuck leaves a child alone like that? Without food?” his tone turned icy and his body jerked. “Jesus Christ…” he mumbled. “I didn’t know at the time what was going on, but I learned. Later. When it became part of my regular Goddamn routine. She would disappear for a day or more, going on some drinking binge, then show up and expect me to fucking take care of her worthless, drunken ass. I was just a kid. What the hell did I know about caring for an adult? I couldn’t even wipe my own motherfuckin’ ass!” he blared, startling her when he jumped off the lounger and began pacing the floor again.

“This is complete bullshit. Why would you want to know these kinds of details? What’s the fucking point, Elsa?” his voice rose another octave. “My life sucked ass. My mother was a drunk my entire life. She abused me physically half the time and neglected me the other half. But you already knew that, didn’t you, you nosy little bitch?”

His acidic tone made her cringe and shrink away. She tried to make herself as small as possible as her mind reeled with his revelation.

“What else do you know about me?” he snapped as he moved closer to her.

She felt his hands on her shoulders, shaking her the way Nate had the night of her engagement party, only more violently. She shook her head and tried to speak, but only a puddle of spit dripped out of her mouth.

“That’s my first memory. Glorious, isn’t it? The smell of vomit, brandy and dirty pussy. My mother’s signature scent,” bitterness colored his words.

Just as he released her and stood again, she heard the crash of something on the floor as his voice broke with emotion. “I can’t believe I agreed to this.”

Her mind whirled with conflicting thoughts. This had all been a bad idea. It was selfish of her to make him relive the past like this. And for what? Just so she could repay him for the cruelty he had put her through and the scars on her back? Even though it seemed fair, it felt wrong, yet, somehow, right. He needed this just as much as she did. She didn’t know why other than to say it was cathartic, even if it was painful.

When her thoughts cleared, she was left in silence. Victor was gone. Upstairs? She listened and could only hear the sound of her own rapidly beating pulse. It felt like an hour passed and she began to shiver from the chill that had settled on her body. The drool seemed never ending and her bladder began to contract, only intensifying her discomfort. When she began to moan from soreness and thrash around to try and reposition her legs, she felt Victor’s warm hands on her. His movements had been stealthy and she hadn’t even heard him approach her.

Where had he been? Close by? Watching her in the surveillance room?

He unhooked her restraints only briefly to seat her on the chaise. When she began to squirm uncontrollably from the urge to pee, his deft fingers loosened her blindfold and pulled it just above her eyes, causing her to squint from the light.

“What’s wrong?” he casually asked as he watched her wriggle around.

She rocked her bottom on the lounger and tried to form the word pee.

“You have to use the bathroom?”

She nodded vigorously.

“Then go,” he glowered.

Please, not this again, she silently begged him with her eyes. She couldn’t be made to humiliate herself in that way again. Once more, she mumbled around the gag, please.

He sighed and his cold stare quickly thawed. She had hoped he would unshackle her, but instead he scooped her up into his arms and carried her up the stairs to the master bathroom where he gently sat her down onto the toilet. It was awkward and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. It was better than having to urinate all over the chaise, but not much considering he was sitting only inches away from her.

“What are you waiting for?”

The sincerity in his eyes was strange. Did he really not think her peeing in front of him was odd? Of course not. He had made her do it before.

Unable to hold out any longer she let her bladder relax and did her business, immediately letting out a sigh of relief. As the continuous stream of urine flowed out of her, Victor unhooked her ankle restraints. Next, he reached for a small hand towel on the rack, dampened it in the sink and began cleaning her chin and chest. His tender caresses seemed out of place, but she welcomed them. On the occasion that their eyes would meet, Victor was staring back at her, wordlessly seeking her approval of his treatment of her.

She approved.

***

Elsa’s eyes shimmered with confusion as Victor pushed her legs apart and cleaned her when she finished relieving her bladder. He hadn’t cared for a woman this way since his mother. Not that there was any comparison… Lifting her back into his arms, he carried her to the bed where he finally removed all the restraints and ball-gag. Once it was removed, he expected an earful and more questions, but was pleasantly surprised when she lay compliantly in his bed, allowing him to care for her and massage each of her chaffed and tender body parts. If only she could be this obedient at all times.

Then again, it would make the game less interesting.

After his shitty meeting with Anthony and wanting some release, he had decided to take her before delving into her questions. She had satiated his needs, like she always did; but really, he was only putting off the inevitable. He had picked the least revealing of the questions to be the first to answer even though it had still made him face a past he had long ago buried. Just thinking about it again set his nerves on edge, but seeing the serene look on Elsa’s face made him put it aside. The worst of it was over. For now. The rest of her Goddamn questions would be answered later; after she faced the consequences of changing the rules of the game.

Right now he would allow her to rest, while he mentally recovered.

After tucking her in and watching her drift into a deep sleep, he retrieved his work files and buried his nose in them for nearly three hours. He called the Virginia Pen and requested all communication with Anthony be faxed to him and all internet records. He would find the connection to the killer. It was just a matter of time.

Thoroughly physically and mentally exhausted, he slipped into bed next to Elsa with his journal in hand.

Compliant. Beautiful. Demanding. Stubborn.

 

He glanced at her and pushed the hair from her face.

You embody all things I loathe and love in a woman. I use the word love metaphorically speaking, of course, as that expression in any other form doesn’t exist in my vocabulary. You satiated my needs tonight by obediently accepting my terms. You really are a good girl. A woman better than I deserve, that’s for damned sure, and one far better than Nathan deserves, that’s for fucking sure.

Were you thinking about him tonight when I spoke of my miserable past? I doubt it. All of your attention was on me. My words. My voice. My movements. I wanted to see your eyes trained on me, but couldn’t bear the thought of seeing pity in them. I wanted to hear your sweet voice, but couldn’t risk you calling out my name and breaking my concentration. I even wanted your hands on me, comforting me while I spoke of things that should never be repeated, but didn’t want my judgment clouded.

Am I weak for feeling this way? Perhaps. But Mr. Black has always strengthened me in the areas that I lack in and given me a backbone when I would’ve normally withered away. He is my other half. You’ve made me see that. Although I’m still struggling to come to terms with it, each day becomes easier to accept it. For years now I have given myself over to him and now you ask that I get him under control as if that’s such an easy thing to do.

I like when he’s in control of my world. Not always, but often. However, I promised I would do my best to be the one in control. I intend to keep that promise in order to keep you by my side, submitting to me and engaging my mind and body in ways that can only be described as necessary to exist. No other player will ever suffice or compare to you and I will no longer seek them out so long as you stay.

My mind is filled with more questions than answers right now as to what our future holds. All the items on your list will be addressed, every last single one, no matter how painful it will be – and it WILL be painful. But what Elsa wants, Elsa gets. Just as I always get what I want.

And right now what I want is to give you a harsh wakeup call as to who you are marrying.

Your consequences begin now .

9: Struggle & Regret

Elsa woke alone in Victor’s bed with only a note on the bedside table. After reading the first couple of words, she leaned her head back onto the pillow. She was too tired and it was too early to start his game. She would eat breakfast first before diving into whatever fucked up scenario he had planned.

Post hot cereal and orange juice, she found the courage to finally read his note.

Stallion & Knight Club, 800 E Cary Street, One Edwards Center. Tonight. Exactly 7:00 p.m. Mention my name to the doorman. Dress formally but in something short.

My apologies for leaving without waking you but there were pressing matters at work. I look forward to seeing you this evening.

She reread the note several times, studying his handwriting. It was the most personal thing he had ever given her other than an orgasm. His penmanship told her so much about him. Every word had purpose, not a single syllable wasted. All the I’s dotted and the T’s crossed. Neat. Orderly. Just like his life.

Her afternoon was spent shopping for something formal and short that would please him. After trying on several, she found just the look she was going for and purchased a pair of killer heels to go with them.

A text message from Nate, the second one that day, made her heart ache. While she dressed for another man, he was concerned about her and their future. Why couldn’t he just move on and forget about their engagement? He knew just as well as she did that they were only doing it out of fear of being alone. And what the hell kind of marriage would that make? A miserable one like her parents had been in. The kind where one or both would end up cheating because their emotional and physical needs weren’t being met. One that ended in divorce.

Her eyes wet with tears. Nate… The man who had rescued her from solitude and made her forget about Mr. Black… The man who had pledged his heart to her… She was such a bitch.

Her response to him was polite, but to the point. She had plans.

As she finished putting the last of her eyeliner on, a sense of apprehension filled her belly and the same inner voice that had warned her before about Victor, ricocheted through her head. Whatever he had planned, she hoped he would be gentle on her.

Pulling up to the large, austere building in downtown Richmond, she swallowed her nervousness like an unsavory pill, forcing it down. She was prepared to withstand whatever Mr. Black had up his sleeve to ensure a future without him. What other choice did she have? Victor had held up his end of the bargain and now it was her turn.

She exited the elevator on the twelfth floor and momentarily became confused at the lack of décor. In front of her was only a long hallway and a set of large, wooden, double doors with the letters S&K burnt into them. Just as she approached to knock or look for some kind of ringer, the door slid open, revealing a burly man who looked to be about her age wearing a suit and tie. He simply stared at her, waiting for her response.

Stuttering for a moment, she remembered Victor’s instructions. “I’m here to meet Victor Laurenzo.”

He promptly ushered her in and past another set of doors where the festivities were in full swing. Soothing, contemporary music lulled her, and a large crowd of well dressed men and women mingled around. It had been a long time since she had been in a place like this; one where people gathered for only one purpose – a hook up. It even smelled like sex… enticing and full of promises of kinky, one-night stands. She glanced around the room quickly and saw Victor watching her from a small alcove at the far end of the dining area. Smoothing her skirt over her thighs and tucking her hair behind her ear, she walked slowly toward him, ready to face her punisher.

As she moved closer, his eyes grew lusty and a half-smile graced his face.

“Beautiful as always, Peach,” he stood and held his hand out to her.

He helped her up into the tall stool at the side of the pub table for two and pushed a glass of wine already waiting for her, toward her. A little too eagerly, she gulped half of it down.

His left eyebrow quirked upward. “Are you nervous?”

“Should I be?”

“Around me? Always,” he smirked.

“Touché,” she raised her glass to him and smiled.

“There it is. I knew it was in there somewhere, hiding,” his long fingers swept her hair over her shoulder.

Confused, she shook her head.

“You’re real smile.”

It quickly faded and she stared past him, blinking several times. She had given away too much. Annoyed with herself, she sipped anxiously on her wine and avoided eye contact until she felt his fingers on her chin.

“Follow me.”

Taking her hand again, he tugged her off the chair and led her to the large, dimly lit dance floor. Going with the flow, she allowed him to take the lead. Just as she tapped into his rhythm and her body began to move in sync with his, he spun her around and hugged her close with his chest to her back. Just then the slow song changed to something more sensual and upbeat. She swayed her hips in time with Undressed by Kim Cesarion, reaching an arm up and around his neck. The heat of his touch as he slipped the strap of her dress off her shoulder made a tidal wave of longing sweep through her. His lips pressed against her collarbone where he delivered a sharp bite to her soft flesh.

“Are you turned on?” he asked, his voice barely heard over the music.

“Yes,” she nodded, turning her head to meet his heated gaze and grinding her ass into him.

“Do you think your fiancé is turned on?”

Elsa’s body stiffened, but Victor’s hips continued to sway as he wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her steady.

“What are you…”

“You’ve already asked all the questions you’re allowed this weekend,” Mr. Black narrowed his eyes.

She snapped her mouth closed, but held his gaze. The arm that was around her waist moved up, his hand snaking up her belly and gripping her face. Slowly, he guided her to look forward and pointed with his other hand to an area of the bar out of earshot.

Nate.

He was facing away from the entrance, but his strong profile and build was unmistakable. He was even wearing a suit she had purchased for him. As she stared in his direction while he chatted up a busty, brown-haired woman who barely looked the legal drinking age, she tried to piece together in her mind, her dysfunctional relationship with him. Victor’s hand beneath her skirt sliding up her thigh to her pussy made her pulse skitter and she tried to pull away, fearful Nate would see them. She had to get out of there. Fast.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he yanked her back.

“Please, Victor, I can’t.”

“Why not? Are you worried the man you’re going to marry might see the real you?” his fingers dipped under her skirt again and into her pussy.

“This is a public establishment and you’re a public figure. People will see you,” she hissed over her shoulder at him.

“No, this is a private establishment; one where this sort of thing is acceptable because we pay a hefty yearly membership fee to keep our indiscretions discreet. There are at least three other government officials here, all engaging in the same kind of activity, including your precious, fucking husband-to-be.”

Elsa spun around and hid her face in Victor’s coat lapels but he quickly pulled back and fingered her chin, forcing her attention on him.

“What’s the matter? Didn’t you know your fiancé had a membership here?”

She bit her bottom lip to hold back the sob that was welling up within her. She had allowed Mr. Black to give her a false sense of security by leading her onto the dance floor and holding her close when she knew better than to trust him.

Grabbing her by an upper arm, he dragged her off the dance floor and to stool on the opposite side of the bar where Nate was seated. Brusquely spinning the stool around so that she was facing Nate’s direction, Mr. Black hiked her skirt up over her bottom. Even though Nate was facing away from her, panic still overwhelmed her.

“I’m going to enjoy the part of you that he refuses,” she felt his fingers ease up the crack of her ass.

She tried to escape, but his teeth nipped into the nape of her neck and made her stifle a scream and halt all movement.

“That’s it – make a scene. Bring attention to yourself, Elsa. Go ahead; keep fighting me and giving me what I want. Show me and that asshole your sincerest look of struggle and regret.”

Goddamn him.

Reaching a hand around, he shoved his fingers into her mouth, lubing them. For a split second, she contemplated whether or not to bite them off.

The tip a finger touched her rectum and caused her to grunt, but no one seemed to notice. Promptly, she lifted her hand to her mouth and covered it to prevent it from happening again. When she felt one, then two of his wet digits breach her entrance, she closed her eyes and prepared for what came next – slow, deliberate pumps, in and out.

“Look at him, Elsa. Just over there. Do you think he sees us?”

The excitement in Mr. Black’s voice shocked her. He was truly enjoying this.

“I thought you said things would be different, Victor,” she pleaded, using his name in hopes of banishing Mr. Black to the dark pit that he belonged in.

“Nice try,” he laughed derisively. “And things are different. You’re stronger. More resilient than before. More pliable. It’s a heady combination, Peach, being both strong and submissive. It makes me want to mind fuck, dominate and punish you all at once.”

“Victor,” she peeked at him over her shoulder, her eyes welling up at the thought of Nate seeing her being exploited like this and breaking his heart further.

“Face forward,” his eyes flickered with anger.

A third finger pushed into her made her belly flutter in that deliciously unwanted way. When he adjusted his stance and she felt the warmth of his palm on her back and the dampness of his mouth on her ear, the full extent of his desire washed over her. Nate would never have done this and she both hated and adored him for that.

Her eyes darted upward and settled on the contour of Nate’s jaw as he smiled at the stranger. Undoubtedly, he was giving her his best lines and the young girl would fall for them. The way she had. He would keep his distance with her, too, because it wasn’t about her, it was about him. Just like it was with Victor. And in the end, that poor girl would be just as heartbroken as she was.

Unwelcome tears hovered on the fringe of her lashes.

“Why the fuck do you care if he sees you?” Mr. Black hissed as he pulled his digits out and spun her around to face him. “That piece of shit,” he pointed in Nate’s direction, “has been here two nights this week and left with two different women. Doesn’t that bother you in the least?”

“No,” she whispered truthfully.

“You’re a Goddamn liar.”

His angry retort seared her. She wasn’t a liar. It tore at her heart that Nate was here, but she had her reasons for not caring if he had a membership to this place or who he left with. She would never tell Victor or Mr. Black the reason why, when she could barely admit the truth to herself.

***

Elsa could try all she wanted to convince him that she didn’t care if her fiancé was a cheating, son-of-a-bitch, but Victor wasn’t buying it. Not for one single, fucking, second. He spun her stool back around and sunk his fingers back into her just as Nate walked out, hand in hand, with the woman he had been talking with.

His. That’s what Elsa was. His to torture and mind fuck. His hole.

As his climax neared, he could sense that she was holding back, infuriating him even more. He wouldn’t be denied her orgasm. Reaching under her skirt and over her thigh, he fingered her clit until he felt her ass muscles tighten around him.

“Give it to me,” he demanded, but still, her body refused him.

Frustrated with her lack of arousal, he yanked his fingers out. Elsa slid off the bar stool and put herself together before disappearing into the ladies room. After washing his hands in the men’s room, he waited for her in the short hall outside the lavatories, contemplating what to do next. He had done what she asked by answering her fucking question, but she hadn’t followed through. Sure, she had let him finger fuck her briefly, but she denied him the one thing he wanted most – her willing submission and pleasure.

He shook his head as it started to clear. Jesus Christ, he was a selfish asshole. He knew damned well that a woman’s body didn’t simply respond on cue and most certainly, not on demand. He had promised to keep Mr. Black in check and failed her.

Slumped against the wall, he felt a sense of familiarity. He remembered well the first night he set eyes on her and tried to engage with her. She had rebuffed him then, too. He should’ve just let things be and left her alone then instead of seeking her out. He could only imagine how different his life would be if he had. Better? Probably not, but definitely less frustrating and angst-filled.

When she exited the ladies’ room, she had a sullen, gloomy look on her face.

Standing in front of him, she touched the lapels of his jacket and readjusted his tie.

“I promised you anything, and I didn’t come through. For that I’m sorry.”

Victor’s pulse spiked at her capitulation.

“But I’m not sorry for refusing to come. Getting finger banged in the butt in a public place isn’t my cuppa and it never will be.”

He couldn’t resist smiling at her at her crudeness.

Her eyes roamed over his face as if wanting something from him, but he had nothing to give. He was exhausted and he had a serious case of blue balls.

“What you did to me…” she backed away from him with dejection in her eyes. “That was…”

He didn’t want to hear it. He knew what it was. “Part of the game,” he finished her sentence, all along knowing the truth of his vindictiveness.

No, not his, Mr. Black’s, he reminded himself. Though it made his actions no less acceptable.

As Elsa turned to walk away, he was struck with the sudden urge to clutch her in an embrace. He spun her around, expecting her characteristic fight, but she latched onto him and hid her face in his neck, her warm, damp breath making his insides riot with emotion.

Affection. Such a simple yet necessary thing in the physical and mental development and maintenance of all human beings. Having been denied it as a child and young adult, he craved it more than any drug.

Elsa had been denied this very thing by Nathan and so many others, including himself. He hugged her tighter until he heard her breath hitch, trying to make up for all that everyone had withheld from her. She was meant to be held like this. To be loved. If only he could feel that emotion… allow that emotion… he would give it to her and so much more. In another life, one where Mr. Black didn’t exist, maybe he would.