Sonata

by Kenya Wright

  “You need rest. We both do.” He sped up and slid into another lane. This time our first two vans had anticipated it. They stayed with him. He nodded at the one on the right, as if he’d been training them the whole time. And then he slowed up.

  “In regard to your aunt. . .” Jean-Pierre took an exit and drove us off the highway. “I could help her.”

  “But do you want to?”

  He glanced at me quick and didn’t respond. Did he notice the change in me? The darkness? He understood darkness. But what about mine? He was strong. He was terrifying. I saw him. I witnessed it in the theater and in the mall. I’d never doubted his power. The violence that moved under his flesh. Did that mean he would understand the ugliness in me.

  Fuck, Aunt Celina.

  I knew what, and who he was. Even when he’d tried to hide it, I could feel the wild beast moving over me, as he fucked and pounded my body. My flesh. My soul.

  But the darkness that moved in me. It wasn’t strength. It was weakness. It was hate. Sometimes, if I didn’t look at Jean-Pierre, I heard Shalimar scream.

  I blinked.

  “Talk to me,” he whispered. “I want to take care of you.”

  “You’ve seen people die. You’ve killed them.”

  His next words were careful. “I have.”

  “And they screamed right?”

  “Yes.”

  My eyes watered, as I watched him with hope. “Do you still hear them scream? Or sometimes…does it eventually stop?”

  He looked back at the road, as if uncomfortable with telling me. “The screams didn’t stop until I saw you.”

  I leaned against him more, hugging his arm. “That makes sense. Next to you. . .already the screams are lower. Fainter. Hinting in the back. . .behind the darkness.”

  “When they come again, push them away. I’ll show you how. I’ll show you how to deal with the darkness.”

  And I believed him, as I closed my eyes.

  We drove some more before stopping at a luxury boutique hotel.

  We had our own private suite.

  The guards—that weren’t already doing their shift—had their own suites. The rest stood outside of our windows, doors, in the hallway. The only place guards weren’t posted was our bedroom. But on the balcony, two men stood away from the door.

  Towering over me, Jean-Pierre took his time undressing me. With each minute, he assessed my body for injuries.

  “Tell me what hurts.” He slipped his hands along my skin and my whole frame calmed under him.

  “Everything,” I whispered with a wicked grin.

  He grunted. “Don’t worry, reine. That part of the day will come soon.”

  We showered together. Hot water streamed down our bare bodies.

  And among the rising steam and our scents mingling, I examined him. “Oh, baby.”

  “Don’t worry. I can take a few hits.”

  Bruises covered his chest and arms. He never flinched, when I covered his body in bubbles and washed the memories away.

  “Now my turn.” He took his turn on me, slowly slipping the cloth along my wet body and kissing me.

  After we were both clean, we stood in the shower within each other’s arms, kissing and embracing each other.

  I don’t want to leave.

  I fell into his seducing taste second by second, forgetting all that had happened.

  The Devil is gone. Jean-Pierre is here. The princess was saved, asshole.

  Jean-Pierre kissed me again, devouring every inch of me. I sucked on his lips and then slipped my tongue along his.

  Someone knocked on the bathroom door.

  Jean-Pierre leaned away from me. Desire blazed in his gaze. “The doctor is here. I told my men that was the only time they could knock.”

  “Oh.” I opened my mouth in shock. “You’re more hurt than I thought?”

  “No. The doctor is for you.”

  I blinked. “I don’t need a doctor, Jean-Pierre. I need your mouth. I need your body. Your cock.”

  He curved his lips. “I’m trying to be a responsible man.”

  I held him closer. “The doctor can wait a little?”

  “More than anything I want your body, but. . .I also don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You can’t.”

  “Trust me.” A fierce wildness filled his gaze. “We should take our time. Check and make sure you’re okay.” He slipped his hands along my hips, tenderly cupping my ass with both hands. “And then I’ll give you this cock, anyway you like it. Let you ride it as long as you need.”

  “That’s a long time, Jean-Pierre.”

  “You won’t break it, reine, but damn I would love to see you try.” He nipped at my mouth and squeezed my ass some more. “And you’ll give me that pussy, any way I want it.”

  “Will I?” I bit my lip.

  “You will.” He still had to drag me out of the shower. “Let’s go.”

  I didn’t want to leave. Why couldn’t we stay in the shower for the rest of the week? No one could bother us there. No one would attack him or take me. I didn’t pout, but I didn’t care about a doctor or anything else either. I didn’t give a damn, that I could’ve been bruised on the inside or out.

  None of it mattered without our happy ending. And those were the moments in his arms, drowning in his gaze.

  Still, he guided me out, dried me off, and put a robe on me. For him, he simply covered his waist with a huge towel.

  We went to the living room. A doctor and a nurse stood inside. I trembled, not really knowing why, just that I was glad Jean-Pierre came and stood next to me.

  The doctor shook my hand. “Hello, I’m Dr. Martin. I’m Jean-Pierre’s special doctor.”

  “Special doctor?”

  Dr. Martin frowned at Jean-Pierre. “I love him so much, he can call me in the middle of the night, and I’ll come.”

  “Thank you again.” Jean-Pierre held my hand. “Let’s do a full physical on her. Any equipment you need, tell my men. They’ll have it here.”

  I cleared my throat and spoke up, “We won’t need any equipment.”

  Jean-Pierre glanced at me. “But if it’s necessary—”

  “We won’t have the time.”

  “We won’t?”

  “No.” I gestured to the bedroom suite down the hall. “You promised.”

  Jean-Pierre looked back at Dr. Martin. “Give us a minute, please.”

  He nodded.

  We walked a few feet away.

  A wide smile spread across his face as he whispered to me, “Stop it, Eden. I’m not focusing.”

  “Good.”

  His smile faded glancing at my bandage. “The checkup is important.”

  “Okay, but you said equipment.”

  “If you need an x-ray or anything—”

  “Then, I’ll go to the hospital tomorrow.”

  “I don’t know, if I want you anywhere with too many people right now. It will have to be private.”

  I was about to sigh, but then I agreed. What was wrong with me? Would I be afraid to go out in public now?

  No. I’ll just take this day by day. At least Shalimar isn’t screaming anymore.

  “Are you ready, reine?”

  I gave up. “Yes.”

  Jean-Pierre walked us back. “Full checkup. I think her fingers are broken on her right hand.”

  No. Not broken.

  I stared at my hand.

  Jean-Pierre continued, “The fingers are swollen and disfigured. She’s been drugged, so she may not feel the pain as much.”

  Dr. Martin asked a few questions as a medical table was pushed in. I got on it and answered the nurse’s questions, about my medical history.

  “I want blood tests.” Jean-Pierre flicked his thumb against his index finger. Aggravation covered his face. “I want to know what they gave her.”

  “And the bandages?” one of the doctor’s asked.

  “They were already stitched.” Terror hit me. I covered the bandage with my swollen hand.
“Don’t touch it. . .please. . .Don’t take it off.”

  Dr. Martin turned to Jean-Pierre.

  Frowning, Jean-Pierre nodded.

  “It was done properly. There won’t be any infection.” I moved my hand away.

  Jean-Pierre eyed me. “Kazimir had a doctor look at it?”

  “Yes, but the doctor didn’t check anything else.”

  Dr. Martin went to Jean-Pierre. “And do you want us to help you with that sprained rib, Jean-Pierre?”

  Jean-Pierre frowned at the man. “I’m not the patient right now. Focus on—”

  “Yes. He does need the sprained rib looked at.” I patted the empty space next to me on the medical table. “Jean-Pierre will be getting examined as well.”

  Surprisingly, Jean-Pierre dragged himself to the table and sat next to me. “This is unnecessary. I already know what’s wrong with me and—”

  “I want blood tests done on him too.” I gave Dr. Martin my full attention. “Also, surgery. Equipment. Whatever you need to make sure he’s in top condition.”

  Dr. Martin smirked. “I’ve been wanting to do tests on Jean-Pierre, for a long time. He’s a horrible patient.”

  Sarcasm dripped from my words. “I’m shocked that you say that.”

  Jean-Pierre leaned my way and whispered, “I’m going to take this out on your pussy tonight.”

  It took a good two hours for Dr. Martin to examine both of us. By the time we finished, Jean-Pierre and I both came close to falling asleep.

  We hit the bedroom, and still there was no peace.

  I lay next to him in bed, as Jean-Pierre had to make sure everyone had returned back safely.

  His phone rang over and over.

  Giorgio had finally gone to Nice to finish healing. We’d meet him down there in less than a week. Louis reported that Kazimir and his mouse, had flown out of Paris with a few men. No other Russians had landed. And there was no sign of the Devil.

  Rafael had taken Gwen to her apartment. She’d confirmed it with Louis. Apparently, Rafael had fallen asleep on the couch and she didn’t want to wake him up.

  I didn’t think any of us had slept in a while.

  My eyes hung heavy, as I listened to Jean-Pierre console, and check on his cousins.

  I fought all I could, to not fall asleep and then, finally, I closed my eyes.

  Being around Jean-Pierre was pure safety. Comfort. Heaven. I sank in his scent. I didn’t want to eat. I just wanted to close my eyes, lay in his arms, and forget about everything.

  As Jean-Pierre gave his cousins orders or talked on the phone, I never moved from his arms. I had to keep his body next to me. I’d missed his touch. His scent. His voice. His taste. I lay on his chest and relished in the beat of his heart. The warmth radiating around him.

  I’m finally safe.

  Chapter 26

  Sex Me

  Jean-Pierre

  Where am I?

  I woke up to Eden sleeping in my arms. I scanned the space, unsure of my reality. Memories of pain and horror had filled my head.

  We’re in a hotel.

  Outside the suite’s window, the sun had risen and now was lowering for the moon.

  How long did we sleep?

  A few sun rays had peaked through the long curtains, draping the large windows.

  Silence moved in the room.

  Wait. Had that all been a nightmare? She really wasn’t kidnapped?

  Eden stirred in my arms and turned her head. Her thick curls fanned across my pillow. I inhaled, smiling at the stupid nightmare that had wrecked my heart.

  And then, I spotted the large bandage on the side of her face.

  No. It wasn’t a nightmare. It was real. All real.

  My heart ached.

  And what had the Devil done to her face? What was under the bandage? I could only imagine. I’d done a lot to him. There had barely been any bone structure or places to decipher which part was which. They’d said Grigor had a surgeon reconstruct some of it. Still, he wore a mask.

  What has that monster done to her?

  She trembled in my arms.

  Was he in her mind right now, chasing her?

  I came close to waking her up, but she settled and went back to steady breathing.

  She needs her sleep.

  The Devil had thrown my queen in some compartment of a couch, to hide her. She’d been under my penthouse the whole time, trapped with a dead body, for God only knew how many hours.

  And I’d chased after Kazimir. It still got her back to me, but I prolonged her pain and torture. What could I have done differently? How can I make sure none of this ever happens again?

  Those questions plagued my mind as I watched her sleep.

  We must’ve slept all night and most of the day. The whole time we’d been wrapped in each other’s arms. Neither moved much in those hours.

  I woke up more and remembered there had been one time, that Eden had to get up to go to the bathroom, I walked her there and waited outside of the door like a hopeless puppy, unable to deal with her too far from me.

  Thank God, she didn’t complain. Nothing could be helped. For the rest of the year maybe more, she would be by my side. Everyone would have to get used to it. I would not leave her alone again.

  She’d been more than bruised. She’d been battered. The lab tests wouldn’t be back until tomorrow.

  What did they give her?

  There were other things to consider too. She’d been closed within darkness for hours. What had that done to her mind? How could I help her? Someone in this world would give me the answers.

  What does she need?

  Her bandaged hand rested on my stomach. Not broken, but badly sprained. Dr. Martin wanted to do more. She’d refused, not wanting to be touched by anyone but me, not feeling comfortable with anyone else around.

  Terrified. She knows I can’t keep her safe.

  I closed my eyes. My chest stiffened.

  How do I fix this?

  Her soft voice filled the air. “Are you okay?”

  I opened my eyes. “Yes, reine. Are you?”

  “Of course. What are you thinking about?”

  “A lot.”

  “You look sad.”

  I confessed the truth to her. “I’m. . .disappointed.”

  “You’re still blaming yourself?”

  “I am, but I’ll stop eventually.”

  “No. Don’t waste another minute on it.” She sat up. “He…the devil, tried to break me, but he couldn’t. Not all the way. I always knew you would come and save me in the end.”

  Earlier, she’d put on a white see-through gown. Louis had brought some of our things to the suite. I didn’t know who’d packed, but I was very happy about the gown. V- cut with tiny little silk straps tied around her neck. Those breasts sat upon her chest, regal and lush as ever. Pretty much exposed. Those dark areolas pressed against the thin fabric.

  Focus. She’s saying something deep about us, and I’m staring at her tits.

  “Don’t think about it anymore, Jean-Pierre.”

  I licked my lips, as I drank in her beautiful image. “Suddenly, I’m no longer thinking about that.”

  She blushed, when she saw what I was looking at.

  “I did make you a promise.”

  “You did.” She gave me a wicked smile. “But did Dr. Martin approve you for sex?”

  “You saw he walked out with both legs.”

  Her nipples hardened. My cock stiffened. My balls hung heavy, close to aching. Lust and hunger replaced all my worries and guilt from this week.

  That silky voice caressed my length. “What about your ribs?”

  “Fuck my ribs.” I charged for her.

  She shrieked and fell back on the bed. “Jean-Pierre, be careful.”

  “I don’t want to be.” Towering over that small frame, I almost worried that I scared Eden, until soft giggles left her pretty mouth. I tasted them, relishing in those lips and those giggles. How sweet? How satisfying? Nothing would taste
better than her. Nothing could fill me.

  I traced Eden’s mouth, loving the soft plumpness of them. “Do you know how much I was ready to destroy, to get you back?”

  The humor left her face, yet desire swam in her eyes. Her voice came out shaky. “I do.”

  I moved my hand down the bandage and outlined it with my index finger. “You should’ve let Dr. Martin check this”

  “I’ve already seen it.”

  “And?”

  She looked away.

  I tenderly grabbed her chin bringing her view back to me. “Reine?”

  “It’s ugly and—”

  “I don’t care about that. I just want to make sure it heals. That you heal.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “You will.” I moved my hand to rest at the base of her neck. Her pulse raced against my palm. I held back the need to kiss all around her bandage. How could I tell her that she was mine? That I was hers? That nothing—not a scar or injury—would change that.

  “Eden—”

  “Fuck me.”

  My cock jumped against her thigh.

  She gazed at me with seduction in her eyes.

  “Sirene.” I left the conversation alone for now. There would be time to show her my love. For now, I yearned as much as she did to give her my cock.

  I slipped my hand up the back of her neck and touched those thick curls. When I couldn’t take any more of the silkiness, I lowered and drank her in, barely getting my fill. Barely satisfied. Knowing that it would take all night, and some of tomorrow, to be quenched.

  When I leaned away, a soft groan left her lips.

  “Please.” She spread her legs for me. “Now.”

  “Yes, reine, give me what’s mine.” I slipped my hands down to her pussy. Wet for me, her throbbing bud was drenched and swollen. I softly strummed.

  “Oh.” She arched up, pressing those soft breasts against my chest.

  “Should I taste my pussy? Give it a kiss? Or should I stuff my cock in that wet, tight space?”

  Her words skipped across my pants. “All of it, and more.”

  “Oh, reine.” Unable to be patient enough to lick her pussy, I thrust my cock in her instead. How could I hold back? How could I wait, when it had been too long? Almost forever. Hell. Flames and chaos. Loneliness and heartbreak. I had to be inside of her. Balls deep with her moaning my name.