by CR Robertson
“Will his family not be looking for him?” I asked, peering up at him.
“Marco doesn’t have a family,” Jordan intervened. “He is in a motorcycle club, which is the closest he ever came to a family, and I doubt any of them will mourn his loss. He slit the throat of his second-in-command a few months ago and there’s been unrest ever since. If you hadn’t shot him tonight, I have no doubt his days were numbered anyway.”
I sat back to gawp at Jordan. “Do you ever consider what you’re saying to people?”
“You wanted to know if his family would be looking for him.” He glared at me. “Sorry for answering your question.”
“Asshole,” I muttered darkly, going and getting Xavier another glass of iced water.
“Fuck you,” Jordan retaliated.
“My head is splitting; can you keep it down?” Ash snarked, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Xavier swung his legs off the sofa to sit forward with his arms leaning on his knees. “Are we clean?”
“I’d prefer to stay out of our apartments until we’re clean from the CDRs. Everyone’s clothes are in black bags and it shouldn’t be an issue since there is no more body, but we need to be safe.” Jordan leaned back and stared at the painting on the wall.
It hadn’t even occurred to me that we’d been kept out of our apartment to prevent us from contaminating it.
“I’m grabbing the back bedroom to get some sleep. See you all in the morning.” Ash waved as he wandered through the apartment, lifting a bottle of whiskey on the way through.
There were four bedrooms in this apartment, each fully decorated with an en suite. The black training clothes in each were finally making sense.
“That’s a good idea, I’m shattered,” Jordan muttered, carefully manoeuvring a sleeping Megan in his arms. He stopped to look at me. “You did good tonight. It’s not easy to kill a man, but it’s even harder to bury someone you love.”
Xavier never looked weak, but for the first time tonight he looked tired and vulnerable. I moved to the window to watch the city and life continuing around us. His arm snaked around my waist to tug me against him.
“You okay?” His voice sounded deep and raspy from the injury.
“Yes and no.” I would never be okay with killing someone, but Jordan was right, I preferred Xavier alive to Marco.
“You need to rest,” he said against my ear, sending shivers of awareness rippling down my spine. His hand spanned my slightly rounded tummy.
I turned in the circle of his arms until my head was against his heart again. Xavier’s hands slipped down under my ass and he lifted me to carry me into the main bedroom. I wanted to protest, but my arms wrapped around him instead.
Neither of us slept. Instead, we held each other in the darkness and talked like that night in The Midnight Rooms. I did most of the chatting, and Xavier occasionally croaked in. Moments like this were more intimate than sex because our souls lay bare to each other. Sometimes the darkness was the place where our past was exposed to the light.
Xavier’s bruises faded over the next week, and there were times that I wished my memories of that night would do the same. They were waiting for me every time I closed my eyes. The evil expression on Marco’s face as he choked the life out of Xavier, the shock in his eyes when I pulled the trigger, the vacancy as his blood trickled down the side of his face.
Marco was dead, but very much alive in my mind. Years ago, a counsellor told me that my family remained alive while I talked about them and remembered them. I didn’t want to remember him, but he haunted me like a poltergeist determined to make his presence felt.
My crochet ability was horrendous, my knitting not much better. The cardigan I created looked as if it had been fashioned for an octopus instead of a child. How the hell did I manage to achieve four arms and several holes in it?
I scrunched my nose up as I held the offending article in the air.
“You need some fresh air,” Xavier said, watching me from the doorway, his hip braced on the doorframe.
I scowled and eyed the yellow garment with disdain. “I need to work out what the fuck happened to the pattern.”
He laughed and lifted the cardigan. “I’m sure Bubble will look lovely in it.”
I snatched it off him and shoved it behind the cushion beside me.
Xavier bit his bottom lip in an attempt to prevent the smile I’d already witnessed. “At least I know what the cushions are for now.” He ducked when I threw one at him. “Come along, little feral beastie. We’re going out.”
He dragged me up and walked me backward into the bedroom, disappearing into the wardrobe to emerge with clothes for me. A mutiny churned inside me at the thought of leaving the haven of our home.
I hadn’t wanted to leave the apartment since that night over a week ago. It had imprinted itself on my psyche and left me unsettled. Bad things happened every time I left our home. If I stayed here, everything would be okay. Reluctantly, I dragged the clothes on and followed him from the sanctuary of our home.
The world felt too big outside, the sun too bright. I hugged my thick cardigan around me as I sat huffing in the seat beside him. The further from London we travelled, the more I relaxed until the trees didn’t seem so daunting and the sun no longer reminded me of an inquisition light. Murderers were supposed to be put in jail, not roam free because no one even knew their victim was dead.
It was only when we bumped across the dainty stone bridge that I knew Xavier was taking me to the home he’d been having renovated. The gardens had been given an overhaul as well, with sweeping lawns separated by hedging and flower beds. A large pond had appeared to the side of the house, with a pier stretching down from the side of it.
A lump formed in my throat as I sat staring at the pond that he’d had created just for me since I talked about wanting a pond for our children to watch wildlife in.
Xavier held his hand out to me when he opened the door. The air felt fresh and filled my lungs, allowing me to breathe properly for the first time in days. It seemed so long ago that I had selected colours for the house, but when we walked inside, I felt like I’d found my way home.
Many of the rooms were empty and waiting for furniture, but light cascaded in to reveal all the original architecture that had been preserved. The staircase had a curve that would allow children to slide down it, reminding me of my childhood home. Xavier watched silently as I explored. The further we went, the more my mood altered and I returned to the person I was before killing Marco.
My heart stopped when I opened a door and discovered a room with a cradle and shelves filled with books and teddy bears. My fingers traced the spines, and I knew some of them were from my family home. Xavier had brought them here for me to read to our baby. He wanted our pasts to be part of our futures. He also knew I wasn’t ready to face all of my ghosts just yet.
His chin landed on top of my head and his arms wrapped around my waist. “Welcome home, baby.”
“How did you know?”
His sigh expanded his chest behind me. “Because your eyes had lost their vibrancy and you were sad and lost. I needed to find my soulmate again because I missed her.” His lips skimmed the top of my head. “I still remember the first man I killed. Jordan would never have survived, and I had to make a split-second decision that still haunts me. Uncle Lucas asked me one simple question when I got the incident stuck in my head, and it helped me to learn to live with it.”
“What was it?” I twisted around so I could see him.
“He asked me if given an identical set of circumstances, would I do the same thing again? Without a doubt, I would. Jordan was one of my closest friends and I would do anything to protect him.”
I contemplated his words. There had been no decision to make that night. He walked onto that balcony determined to kill my husband, instigating the series of events that unfolded. The answer to Lucas’ question was yes, I would lift that gun and fire it all over again. For once, I was able to save Xavier inste
ad of him always having to be the hero.
The master bedroom overlooked the pond, an en suite and walk-in wardrobe created in shades of gold. A four-poster bed sat in the centre of the room. I stopped, studying the bed for several seconds.
“Tell me you didn’t…” I gasped. A curtain covered most of it, but an elaborate structure with restraints was built into the beam between the two bottom posts.
“It even has hooks to suspend a swing into,” Xavier said against my ear.
My eyebrows hit my hairline and heat flooded my cheeks as images fluttered through my head. I’d discreetly Googled BDSM a few weeks ago before visiting the twilight room. Some of the images had shocked me, but seeing our bedroom adapted for our private use put them into a different perspective.
Heat gathered between my legs and my pulse accelerated while my eyes were glued to the bed Xavier had had specifically crafted for our pleasure.
For over a week, I’d avoided sex. The only contact I’d craved had been Xavier holding me tightly. His arms had kept me from falling apart.
“Everything in this house has been designed specifically for you,” he continued. “Even the renovations before I met you. Some days it feels like I knew you were out there, and I was constantly searching for you.”
I trailed my fingers through his hair, tugging his face down to mine. “Show me,” I said against his lips.
Passion flared in his eyes and his hands on my waist tightened.
Desire ignited deep in my core, travelling through my body until my clothes felt too tight and my panties were damp.
***
Chapter Twenty-Three
Xavier
The Midnight Rooms had been a place for me to hide from the world while still experiencing pleasure. The Twilight Rooms had been somewhere to indulge my deepest fantasies. This bedroom had been designed for the woman standing in the circle of my arms. Seeing her in The Twilight Rooms, I hadn’t wanted to share her with anyone. Not even a peek at her creamy silken skin.
I wanted to share pleasure in all forms with Cassandra, but the demons inside me would only permit that when she was mine alone to explore and enjoy. A jealous, possessive little demon had set up home inside me and refused to share her with anyone else. I guess my days of attending orgies were officially over.
My hands slid under her top and I smiled as she shivered in response. From the first moment I touched her, she’d reacted to me.
“Strip,” I gave her a single command.
Her body froze, but then she arched up into me. This woman was my entire universe, destroying the memory of all the women who came before her. She had done what others predicted could never be achieved; she took a hopeless sinner and made him kneel in worship before her.
She accepted my ring and my vows and joined her life to mine. Without hesitation, she lifted a gun and defended me. No one had ever done that before, every action binding us tighter and tighter together. There are regrets that run through your head when you face death. Plans that you’d outlined in your mind that would never come to fruition. A life with Cassandra that I would never get to live.
I had about a minute to try and break free, sixty seconds that I was already counting down in my head to try and reach my future. I’d been trying to grab his belt in an attempt to lift him over my head when his weapon fell out. After her reaction to the gunshots a few months ago, I would never have imagined that Cassandra would have lifted that gun and fired it. She’d saved me in so many different ways, her love making me whole.
Slowly, Cassandra stepped away from me, her eyes locked on mine as her hands began to unbutton her top. Every item fell to the floor until she stood naked before me. Without prompting, she lowered to her knees in front of me.
Fuck!
My hand fisted at my side. Submission was something that every dominant craved, but with Cassandra it was more than that. She chose to kneel before me, not because I was stronger than her, but because she was my equal in every way, both of us needing the same from each other.
I tilted her face up with my finger under her chin. Her huge eyes stared up at me while she knelt in silence. I took a mental picture of this moment, storing it away in my memory bank.
Her fingers released my jeans until they fell to my ankles, my boxer briefs following them. I tugged my T-shirt over my head and dropped it to the floor while toeing off my boots. Her hand curved around my hardening dick to gently pump him, her lips sliding from the head down to meet her hand.
My eyes closed for a few seconds to allow myself just to feel her taking charge. My pleasure lay in her hands and mouth, and Cassandra moved with the surety of a woman who knew exactly what my dick liked.
“Baby,” I gasped, my hand winding in her hair to try and tug her head back. “You keep doing that and we’re never gonna try the new bed.”
Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked hard and my knees buckled at the sensation. I grabbed the bedpost to hold me up. My eyes narrowed in warning and her lips twitched at my expression.
She pumped harder, her nail tracing the sensitive vein. I gave in, holding onto the bedpost as she took me hard, fast, and deep, her hands moving to my ass to help her devour me.
“Fuck!” I tangled my free hand in her hair to force her to look up at me while I climaxed. She wasn’t normally this aggressive, but I loved it, needing to feel her desperate want for me even as I spilled into her.
She pursed her lips together when she finally released my dick, her eyebrow arching slightly in challenge.
“You do realise you’ll pay for your disobedience?” I asked softly. The small smile on her mouth told me that was exactly why she’d continue to suck me off even as I tried to stop her.
This bed had been made to my specifications. The two side beams and the beam at the bottom between the posts all contained the major items of a BDSM room. The bottom became a St. Andrew’s cross, one side contained a swing, and the other side an elaborate strapping that held the person fully immobile either horizontally or flipped vertically. It had been a design I’d patented last year for an all-in-one pleasure room.
I tugged one of the silk curtain fastenings off to tie around Casandra’s eyes. She rose slowly at the silent command of my fingers on her skin. Her hands slipped into the leather cuffs that secured her wrists, the strapping wrapping around her ass, before her ankles were held in the last set of cuffs.
“Zee?” Her voice held a hint of fear. This swing allowed me to control every part of her body separately as each piece of leather had its own mechanism.
I tilted her body back and widened her legs. Cassandra struggled with her lack of control in this swing, the straps taking all her weight to leave her moving in mid-air. I knew from experience that it took a moment or two to orientate yourself in such a contraption. The drawer at the bottom of the bed was filled with all my favourite implements that I couldn’t wait to introduce Cassandra to.
Selecting some toys, I turned and wandered back to my mischievous wife. She gasped as I trailed the feather over her sensitive flesh, her back arching up which resulted in her trying to stabilise herself again.
The delicate fibres of the feather caressed the areas that I knew made Cassandra mewl. I attached the vibrating clamps to her nipple and clit before turning them on. Her mouth opened wide and her fingers stretched. Each pulsation cycle only lasted fifteen seconds, enough to stimulate her but not enough to allow her to climax. I continued to move the feather over her skin, stopping at her breasts when the vibrations ceased.
“What the hell are you doing?” Cassandra panted.
Grabbing the restraints at her hips, I then leaned over her. “Tormenting you, my little minx. I told you to stop, but you kept sucking.”
The vibrations started again, and her body jerked. “Fuck, Zee. I can’t do this anymore.”
“You can and you will, baby. You have no idea what you look like bound and presented to me.” My lips met hers and she hungrily kissed me, her tongue warring with mine even when the clamps
activated again.
She hissed when they stopped before she got her climax. “I hate you right now.”
Laughing, I began to kiss down her body, stopping every so often to continue to torment her. Every time the vibrations started, her body fell open and she started to pant. By the time I reached between her legs, she was soaking wet. I rubbed her g-spot next time the buzzing sounded and stopped when it did.
“Fuck it, Zee. I need you inside me right now!”
Rotating my finger, I watched her desperately try to get pressure where she needed it. “Say please.”
Her pout was adorable, her scowl that followed making me laugh. The next time the vibrations stopped, I took the clamp off her clit and devoured her with my mouth and tongue while kneeling before her. Cassandra screamed her climax, her body rigid before slumping in languid satisfaction.
“You win.” She sighed.
I removed her eye covering and leaned over her, smiling.
“You look pleased with yourself,” Cassandra commented dryly.
“I won,” I replied. “I’m always pleased when I win in the battle of pleasure.”
“Yeah, but I got the orgasm.” She bounced her eyebrows at me, biting her lip.
My dick was fully erect and ready to go. “Hmmm.” I released her nipples from their bondage, and she moaned. “Let’s see if we can manage another.” I speared deep inside her, holding her hips.
Our eyes locked as I used the momentum of the swing to plunge fully and drag her off my dick. It allowed me to thrust deeply without any effort.
“I always wanted a swing as a child,” Cassandra muttered. “The reality is different to the fantasy. I imagined swinging up into the sky, not being impaled on my husband’s cock.”
“Weirdo.”
“Only for you, Zee.”
“Never stop, baby.”
Cassandra let her head drop back and fully embraced the freedom of the swing, her limbs relaxing into it. I angled my hips up to find that place that made her toes curl.