“Hannah gave birth to you, but you have always been my daughter. I have no regrets about how that came to be. I will always love you, Livie.”
Julia takes my right hand into her left before grabbing hold of Julian’s hand with her right. “Your father and I struggled to have another child after you.” She nods to Julian. “After several miscarriages, I fell into a state of depression. I was distant and blamed your father. His affair with Hannah was his way of proving he could have another child. I wanted to hate him for hurting me, but I couldn’t. I was too numb to feel the loss of my marriage. We divorced and for a while I blamed myself. I moved into one of the guest houses because I didn’t want to upset Julian’s routine. I was close enough to be near them both and for a while it suited me. It wasn’t until you came into our lives, Livie, that I began to heal. I fell in love with you at first sight. The child I wanted but couldn’t have. You are a part of Jeremy and that has always been enough. When Hannah left you behind at Frost Haven, I selfishly rejoiced at my good fortune and I vowed to be the mother my children need and deserve. I love you both so much.”
“We...” Emotions clog my throat, preventing the words from being spoken.
“We love you too, mom.” Julian comes to my rescue, speaking for the both of us.
By dinner time I urge my brother to take our mother out.
“You’ve both been cooped up in the hospital all day. Please go out and have a nice meal. I will be here when you return tomorrow, I promise.”
Julian smirks, but he relents, giving in to my pouty little sister act.
“We’ll see you soon,” Julian says, kissing me goodbye.
“See you soon, my sweetheart.” From the doorway my mother blows me a kiss, before leaving the room.
Some time alone brings reflection. I close my eyes, thinking of my love ones. Reflection gives way to sleep, which breeds nightmares. I don’t know how long I’m captive in my head, trying to escape Carina’s vengeance. Dorian calling out to me unlocks my prison, setting me free.
Day three, I receive a visit from a crisis counselor. He’s a middle-age man with a receding hairline and a full beard. His brown eyes offer empathy and acceptance. After the nightmares I’ve had, I’m not surprised someone has come to assess my psychological health.
“Hello, Olivia,” he greets, entering the room. “I’m Henry, and I’m here to talk with you about the shooting.”
“I’m not sure what more I can say.”
“We can talk about whatever you feel comfortable discussing. The first part of my job involves listening.”
I know it will get easier. One day I will close my eyes and no longer see a gun pointed at my face. One day I will no longer feel incapacitated by anger, depression, fear, or anxiety. One day nightmares will no longer plague my sleeping hours. However, today the unfortunate truth is Henry can’t possibly understand my feelings when I’m confused by them myself. How can I tell him I’m afraid I will never be able to consent to Dorian doing to me all the things Carina forced on me? How do I say, I crave being bound and helpless, but only for Dorian?
Forcing a polite smile, I tell him the truth. “I’m sorry,” I say respectfully. “I don’t believe you can help me.”
He nods, holding my gaze. “I understand. Sometimes, as victims we have a hard time placing the blame where it belongs. You did nothing wrong, Olivia. What happened to you wasn’t your fault.”
“I know that,” I say, lowering my head. Blaming myself never entered my mind, but maybe it should have. If I heeded the warning in Carina’s letter, I wouldn’t have been at her mercy. I wouldn’t have been shot. Blame and self-doubt disappears when my heart whispers. And you wouldn’t have Dorian.
Henry observes me silently, as if waiting for me to continue speaking. “Don’t keep your feelings bottled up, Olivia. Don’t let them consume you,” he advices. “When you’re ready to talk, please give me a call.”
“Okay, I will.” I hear myself repeating the same words I said to Detective Eastman.
His lips curl in a knowing smile, because he realizes that I won’t. He exits the room and I breathe a sigh of relief.
I think I might go crazy if I spend one more day in this hospital. Six days and nights of machines beeping and medical staff waking me from nightmares has me on edge. On the plus side my doctor tells me the wound is healing nicely, with no signs of infection. He also made a point of telling me how lucky I am that the bullet didn’t hit any major organs. No one has mention it, but I know I’m also lucky Dorian got me to the hospital so quickly. It may have been too late if he waited for emergency service to arrive.
On day seven, three worried faces refuse to leave my bedside. Dr. Kingston relents, giving me a final exam behind a privacy curtain, before signing my hospital release papers.
“Take care of yourself, Miss Frost.”
He provides me with aftercare instructions and prescriptions for pain medication and antibiotics.
“Thank you, Dr. Kingston.”
He pulls back the curtain, bids everyone a good day before exiting the room. I have no clue where I go from here. Obviously, I can’t be on my own for a while. Dr. Kingston recommends hiring a home health aide for a few days.
“I’ve hired a nurse to stay with you during your recovery.” Julian announces.
“That won’t be necessary.” Dorian says.
“We’re leaving tonight. She will need someone to look after her.”
“She has me,” Dorian challenges.
“Please stop talking about me as if I’m not here.” They turn to look at me and I take advantage of the attention. “I can decide for myself what my needs are.”
“Come sweetheart, let’s get you changed.”
“Thanks, mom.”
Once we’re in the bathroom, away from the men, my mother offers some advice.
“Let your man take care of you, Livie. He feels responsible for what that woman did to you. And he wants to prove to your brother he can.”
Dorian is no more responsible for Carina’s actions than I am. Accepting her advice, I give my mom a grateful smile as she helps me get dress.
“I’m ready to go.” Meeting my brother’s gaze, I set him straight. “I’m going home with Dorian.”
The men I love stare at me for a moment, absorbing the words spilling from my mouth. My brother Julian has always been my protector, keeping me safe from predators. I’m a big girl now and I can take care of myself. However, my heart belongs to Dorian, wicked wolf or not. Wherever he goes, I go.
Julian acquiesces, grabbing my bag from the empty bed. “I’ll meet you downstairs,” he says, striding past me to the door.
Mom hugs me as tight as she can without hurting me. “I love you, sweetheart.”
“I love you too, mom”
“Your brother will come around,” she says, releasing me. Following Julian out the door, she leaves me alone with Dorian.
“Let’s go home,” he says, just as the nurse arrives with a wheelchair.
Dorian secures me in his car and my mother gives me one last kiss on the forehead, before saying goodbye to us. The hardest goodbye is my brother. For excruciatingly long seconds, I began to think he’s going to leave without saying it.
“If you need me don’t hesitate to call.” He kisses each of my cheeks and my forehead. “I love you.” Turning away from me, he extends his hand to Dorian. A peace offering Dorian accepts.
“Take care of her. Keep her safe.” I hear the warning in my brother’s tone. Judging by his response, Dorian hears it too.
“I take care of what’s mine,” Dorian challenges. “Olivia will always be safe with me.”
They appear to come to a nonverbal understanding, parting ways amicably. Dorian climbs behind the wheel of his Mercedes sedan, leaving the hospital in its rearview.
We enter the garage, and trepidation creeps up my spine, paralyzing me with fear. I sit silently for a moment, attempting to combat the anxiety holding me captive. Dorian helps me from the car,
leading me into the house. Winston greets us with a warm welcoming smile. He has prepared lunch for us, but I have no appetite.
“Would you like to rest, Sunshine?” Dorian asks.
I manage a zombie like nod, struggling to refocus my brain. Dorian takes my right hand and I hold his tightly, fearing I will lose my way without his reassuring touch. Climbing the stairs, my feet feels as if they’re weighed down by concrete boots. Each step almost impossible to take. Outside the master suite, my heart races causing my steps to falter. Returning to the scene of the crime, pushes me pass the point of no return. Snatching my hand from Dorian’s grip, I back away.
“I can’t.”
Panic stricken; all I can do is run away. I don’t get far. Dorian’s arms wrap around my waist, lifting me off my feet. Burying my face in his chest, I release the tears I’ve held in for seven days. Holding me close, Dorian slides down to the floor, letting me cry until my tears give way to occasional sniffles.
“Do you trust me, Olivia?” Dorian whispers against my hair.
Nodding against Dorian’s chest, I cover my face and close my eyes when he stands. Holding me securely in his arms, we enter the master suite. Even with my eyes shut tight, I sense the room is different somehow. Sinking down onto the bed, Dorian sits with me. Stroking my hair, he whispers words of love and reassurance.
“I love you, Olivia Frost. I think I have from the first moment I laid eyes on you.”
I’m not sure what my ears are hearing, so I open my eyes.
“I want all of you forever, Sunshine.” Dorian lifts my chin, planting a chaste kiss on my trembling lips. “I want you and me for the rest of our lives.”
I gape at him unblinking, afraid I will miss one of the most significant moments of my life. The question dances merrily in Dorian’s loving gaze. His thumb gliding over my lips releases the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.
“Can you imagine me kissing you, how I will kiss you every day for the rest of our lives?”
“Yes,” I moan, giving him the answer to his questions spoken and unspoken.
Some may believe it’s unwise to make life altering decisions after experiencing a trauma and I’m inclined to agree. However, when I look around the room, I see all the changes Dorian has made for us. All the changes he has made for me. And I know getting married isn’t a decision either of us can make with just our heads. My heart will never let him go and his will never let me go.
I sleep peacefully for the first time since Carina shot me. Sunlight peeks through the recently redecorated window treatment, waking me to the start of a brand-new day. Sitting up in bed, I stretch out my left arm, ogling the five-carat oval blue diamond engagement ring Dorian placed on my finger after dinner last night.
“Do you like it?” Dorian asks, waking to find me staring at my hand.
“It’s beautiful.”
“It embodies you.” Facing Dorian, I give him my full attention. “The icy blue matches your eyes. It’s rare and precious like you and it’s as radiant as the sun just like you.”
I blush under the heat of his gaze. Holding my hand up again toward the sunlight, observing the way my ring flickers and shine between two colors.
“I see shades of blue and gray. It’s the perfect combination of us.”
Lowering my hand and my head, I give my fiancé a good morning kiss. He groans against my lips, sending pulsating heat to my center. I give in to the demands of Dorian’s hunger, consuming my every breath. His hand cups the back of my head, gently steering me onto my back and propping my head up on pillows. When I’m breathing more comfortably, Dorian showers me with kisses, leading down my stomach to my aching nub. He teases it, sucking gently, building on my need for him. One finger sinks into me, followed by another and another. I gyrate my hips, clenching and unclenching rapidly around his fingers. Plunging deep into my core, Dorian finds the spot, hitting it again and again. My hips move faster, chasing my release. My back arches and I ignore the dull ache in my chest. Teetering on the edge, I’m so close I can taste it. Removing his fingers, Dorian shoves them in my mouth. My essence coats my lips and tongue and I suck greedily. Within second Dorian’s cock fills me. His thrusts are slow and gentle, but oh so deep. I erupt screaming his name.
“I love you,” he whispers.
Chapter 25
Dorian
WE WAIT NEARLY THREE weeks before announcing our engagement, choosing to keep our happiness to ourselves for a little while. However, today is the day we share the news with our families. We call Oma and Opa first and while they’re surprised, they’re equally pleased. When Opa urges me to reconcile with the rest of my family, I listen, extending an invitation to the entire Wolfgang clan.
Olivia’s family is not as accepting. Julia expresses her concern, suggesting we not rush into anything so soon after the shooting.
“Give yourselves some time to heal both physically and mentally.” Her advice makes sense. However, our decision remains unchanged.
“We don’t see it as rushing into the unknown,” Olivia assures Julia. “We love each other; getting married is not a reactionary decision to trauma.”
Julia comes to terms with our determination to move forward with the wedding. Julian on the other hand refuses to speak with me until we meet face to face. Which is why Olivia and I are headed to her family’s estate in upstate New York.
Julian arrange to have his driver pick us up from the airport. From the window Olivia spots a black Bentley on the tarmac.
“There’s Carson,” she points out. “Julian’s driver.”
I prefer my own driver at my disposal, which is why I have a limo service on standby. Olivia descends the stair of the jet before me. Following close behind her, I stop when she stops.
“It’s good to see you again,” Carson greets Olivia.
“It’s good the see you too, Carson. This is my fiancé, Dorian Wolff.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Wolff. I’ve enjoyed many of your films.”
“Always nice to meet a fan.”
We exchange a firm handshake before he takes our bags. I open the rear passenger door for Olivia, sliding in beside her. Carson climbs behind the wheel, starts the engine and Olivia raises the privacy screen.
“I’ve never made out in the back of a Bentley,” Olivia whispers.
I can’t hold back the laughter bubbling up from my chest, escaping my throat. It’s as if I’m a giddy fucking teenager.
“Neither have I.”
The confession comes easy and my cock grows hard. Throbbing against the zipper of my jeans causing an unbearable ache. Olivia’s smile matches mine as she climbs onto my lap, straddling me. I haven’t allowed a woman to straddle me since Carina, refusing to be put in a submissive position ever again. However, this is the second time Olivia has. I can’t deny there’s a small part of me anxious to remove her from my lap. But the part of me that loves her with my heart and soul, needs her to claim me this way.
Olivia unties her wrap dress, letting it slip past her shoulder to the floor. The small flesh tone bandage covering her wound distracts me momentarily from her bare breast. My hands slide up her back, urging her closer. I cover her right breast with my mouth, sucking her nipple. She moans, arches her back, begging me to suck harder. Her hips grind vigorously, rubbing her black lace panty covered cunt against my eager cock. My tongue darts out, circling her areola and her nipple. Olivia cries out when my teeth claims her nipple. I temper the pain of each bite with lingering licks. Her hands gliding through my hair feels like absolute bliss. When she gives it a gentle tug, I release her breast. My chin lifts, seeking her mouth. I kiss her like it’s our first time, filled with possibility and expectation. She moans her pleasure and I love how fucking responsive she is.
“We’ll reach Frost Haven in about ten minutes.”
Carson’s voice pulls us apart. Remembering where we are, I reluctantly urge Olivia to coverup. She slides off my lap and I miss the intimacy. Adjusting my crotch, I try not to
think of my fiancé’s luscious body. The way her breast swells slightly with each breath or the way her harden nipples begs to be sucked.
“Thank you,” she says, drawing my attention to her face.
“Why are you thanking me?”
“For agreeing to meet with Julian.”
“I know how much your brother’s blessing means to you.”
“Not nearly as much as you mean to me.” She smiles, leaning in to give me a chaste kiss.
Entering the grounds of Frost Haven looks like I’ve wondered into a small kingdom. The drive from the gate to the main house offers amazing views of the estate. We pass five guest houses, a tennis court, a clubhouse with a swimming pool, an equestrian center with miles of recreational trails.
“You grew up here?” I ask Olivia, when the car comes to a stop.
“I did,” she confirms.
Carson opens the rear passenger door for Olivia, and I climb out on the other side. Julia is at the door to greet us, alongside a woman who looks to be in her mid-thirties. She’s striking, with long raven black hair and deep brown eyes.
“That’s Mila,” Olivia whispers as we approach the ladies. “My stepmother.”
It feels odd to have wives’ numbers two and four welcome me to the home of a man I’ve never met. By all accounts Olivia’s father was a philanderer before settling down with Mila, a woman nearly thirty years his junior. According to Olivia, they’ve been married eleven years, with no children.
Julia is the first Mrs. Frost to pull Olivia into a tight hug. Mila’s embrace is more gentle, obviously conscious of Olivia’s injury. I shake Julia’s hand, greeting her politely. Mila offers her hand next with an introduction.
“Welcome to Frost Haven, Mr. Wolff. I’m Mila, Jeremy’s wife.”
“Thank you; and please call me Dorian.”
She nods, leading us into the house. The foyer is massive. Priceless art lines the walls reminiscent of a high-end art gallery. The light from a grand crystal chandelier reflects against the tile flooring, causing it to shine. We come to the double staircase and Olivia stops.
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