Roman: Book 1

by Dawn, Kimber S.

  The sound of her husky moaning as her wet lips brush against my ear almost sends me flying over the edge. “You will not cum Heather! Do you understand? You will not cum until I tell you to.”

  “Please, I can’t… I can’t—“ She begs.

  “YOU CAN, AND YOU FUCKING WILL!” I shout, slamming into her harder, over and over, and as soon as I feel my balls tighten I demand, “Now!” As she cums, my teeth sink into her shoulder again and I pour every drop I possess deep inside her, roaring around my teeth clenched into her shoulder, “God damn I fucking love how tight your pussy squeezes my cock!”

  I’m unsure how long I keep her held against the wall with my cock buried in her, our sweaty foreheads rest against each others as we catch our breath. After I’m able to gather my strength , I slowly set her on her feet before scooping her up with one arm behind her back and the other under her knees and carry her into my master bath. I turn on the water, and walk us both under the warm spray of the shower.

  I gently wash her body and shampoo her hair . Once I’ve bathed us both I wrap her in a towel and carry her into my room, pull back the covers and slide us both between the sheets.

  Even though her eyes are closed and her breathing has evened out I know she’s not asleep , but I decide to allow her this moment of silence.

  Well after the sun has set and darkness floods the room she whispers, “Do you think you love me, Roman?”

  Her words settle between us like tiny ticking bombs. In order to keep from blowing up on her, I turn the tables on her little ‘I’m asleep’ trick and remain silent and unmoved with my eyes closed.

  Ten minutes later she sighs and softly kisses my shoulder. I feel the bed shift under her weight as she slides to the edge of the bed. Before getting up and leaving I barely hear her whispered confession.

  “I don’t know if I will ever love you enough to truly take away all of the evil lurking inside you. And after this baby is born, I will leave you the moment your mask first slips . I will leave you, and you will never see either one of us again.”

  The next sound to meet my ears is the clicking of the door as she leaves.

  I lie in bed as her words circle my mind until the sun comes up. And before my consciousness leaves me the only response I can settle on is, to never let my mask slip. Or to run like hell, leaving both my wife and my daughter behind before it happens.

  The days pass quickly, and with each day that comes and goes the hope, my happiness, and my peaceful contentment slowly begin to fade away. Her words from that night begin eating away at me like a cancer, eroding me from the inside out and there is no stopping the shift I feel occurring within me. The blackness invading any goodness she caused is so strong it’s palpable.

  Heather has chosen her gown, the cake, the flowers and decorations. And today, the day the invitations are to be sent out, she and Andrew are going over the menu for the cocktail party in which I will come face to face with her brothers for the first time. My parents’ plane will land in a little over an hour. Before they arrive she and I have decided to call Bobby, the brother she lived with and explain in detail our ‘story’. She has decided it would be best if she does the explaining and most of the talking and I agree it will sound better coming from her than me.

  I’m in my office when she knocks on the door. “Come in.” She slowly enters into my office and smiles.

  After she sits in one of the seats in front of my desk, she asks, “Are you ready to make the call?” I nod and dial the number leaving it on speaker and slide the phone towards her.

  She hasn’t spoken to her brothers in weeks so I shouldn’t feel the instant rage that consumes me when he answers and she immediately starts crying, but I do…almost to the point of seeing red.

  I blankly stare at her as she cries. I do not try to console her. I do not try to calm her. I just stare.

  By the time she gains her composure she looks like a hideous, blubbering mess. She does however fumble her way through our ‘story’ and once she’s finished her brother waits as silently as I do.

  When her brother finally speaks, instead of the relief I thought I would feel, complete and utter dread is the only thing I’m met with.

  Is this actually going to work? Will he actually believe her story? When I realize there is nothing standing in the way of me getting what I, until moments ago, truly believed I wanted.

  What am I doing? And why am I doing it?

  What in the hell makes Heather so damn special that I have somehow talked myself into believing I want her in my life, day in and day out?

  Every word she’s spoken without asking permission to speak over the last few weeks instantly floods my mind. Every moment she made a decision without my say on the matter flares within me causing a slow boil to ignite just beneath the surface.

  The sweet, loving words between brother and sister are never exchanged. Every disrespectful action and word from her fuel my anger for the woman sitting across from me.

  What the fuck have I created?

  Who the fuck am I marrying in two weeks?

  And why? Why?

  I am Roman William Payne. She is nothing.

  My finger touches the screen, ending the call and I stand from my desk towards the door.

  “Roman, what the hell?” Before she can even clear the confusion from her face, I’m towering over her.

  “You fucking question me one more time, Heather. Just once. and I will break your goddamn jaw again, sew it shut, and laugh while you say 'I do' through your clenched teeth. I don’t know where in God’s name you came up with the concept of you and I being equals, but if you want to remain alive, as well as keep that thing inside you alive, you will quickly learn your place. Learn it and remember it. Am I understood?!”

  When her eyes well with tears I harshly grab her chin and nod her head for her. After I watch her eyes go blank, I spit out, “You look like shit. Go fix your makeup." “But…my brothers? What happened to you and I speaking to Bobby—“

  I spin around at the door to my office, “As I said. You and I are not equal. I just made a decision, why I made it doesn’t concern you.” My feet move as quick as possible to remove me from the room. If I don’t get out of her proximity NOW the incident of her face meeting another one of my desks will happen.

  Chapter 25

  It takes me counting to four hundred and seventy five before I’m calm enough to compartmentalize my thoughts and feelings, and find the strength to stand and walk to my room.

  I make myself a bath and slide into the warm water until even my head is immersed and stare blankly at the ceiling from beneath the water until I can no longer hold my breath. As soon as I break the water’s surface, I grab a breath and sink back under, repeating the motions until I’m convinced I am calm enough to make it through the rest of this fucking atrocity that lies ahead of me.

  I wrap myself in a cloak of composure, dry and curl my hair, apply my makeup and dress accordingly…rather accordingly to the previous Roman’s liking. The menacing, oppressive, and diabolically unpredictable Roman who I know without a doubt has taken the lives of twelve women before me. The evil, wicked mirrored twin of the man I have always loved, but never understood why.

  Somewhere in my underwater thoughts, I came to a conclusion. I went through what can only be described as the seven stages of grief, all while closing off unwanted feelings and thoughts. The first time I slide beneath the water and watched the tiny bubbles slowly surface I fought denial. I fought it with everything, every hope, every smile, every kind word Roman ever muttered to me until pain and guilt consumed me for my part in whatever flipped the switch that took my Roman away from me. After I grabbed my first gasp of air and slid beneath the waters surface again, the malevolent presence who resides in the void I used to escape, strikes the match of my anger at him. My anger for him proving me right, and letting me down. This new part of me is too restless in hatred and she inhibits me from staying under the water as long as I did the first time. When I s
lipped beneath the third time the realization, the dread, the immense depression is what pulled me under… and kept me under while I slowly proceeded through the last three stages ending in acceptance. When I shoved myself from under the water gasping furiously for air, each breath that filled my lungs brought with it patience, self-preservation, and the knowledge to obtain and maintain both.

  A plan evolved while I coiffed my hair, perfectly applied the appropriate amount of makeup and dressed. An extensive, elaborate, and perfect plan which all leads to me and my daughter persevering, and Roman’s self-destructed demise.

  It is common knowledge, if you give a man enough rope, especially arrogant men who truly believe they are God, he will hang himself. Their boasting and gloating alone, their belief of being superior and untouchable is the downfall of every serial rapist, murderer, and sadist. History repeats itself, beginning well before Roman times.

  After I’m dressed in my Stepford Wife attire, I take one last look at the perfect façade I’ve created of both my emotions and my appearance before descending the stairway and following the voices coming from the main sitting area.

  I’m not surprised to find Roman in his own perfect façade of loving, attentive, and caring fiancé and father to be.

  My stride does however falter when I see his parents.

  “And here she is, Mother, Father, this is my future bride as well as the mother of your first grandchild.” His smile lights up his face and if I didn’t know better, I would believe I was looking at the angelic twin of the satanic bastard who left me in his office less than two hours ago.

  The problem is…I do know better. And every single word that falls from his mouth feels like a blow to my chest. A blow I thankfully mask before smiling at his parents. “It’s so wonderful to finally meet you both.” I go in for a handshake only to be swept up in a hug from both Roman’s parents.

  It’s Mrs. Payne’s whispered words that bring me centimeters from turning around and running away from the hell these next few months promise to be. “You my dear, are a gift from God, a miracle I prayed for every single day from the moment I pushed Roman out into this world. I don’t know how you did it, but thank you, thank you sweet child for saving my son. I have loved you from the moment Roman mentioned your name. And I always will.”

  My hands fist the material of the back of her dress and I have to lock my knees to remain on both feet. After I’m able to quickly blink away the tears in my eyes I pull back to look Roman’s mother in her eyes and ball faced lie, “Your son saved me, Mrs. Payne, much more than I saved him.” I smile at her and make my way to Roman’s side.

  He briefly kisses my temple before whispering in my ear, “Let’s not fuck up, shall we?” After he kisses my temple he looks down smiling at me as if I am his greatest treasure.

  I must say, and I’ll explain in further detail afterward in order to assure you I am sane, even if every action I’ve made up to this point screams insanity, it is in this exact moment, write it down, highlight it, hell, bookmark the page, it is in this moment when it finally registers whom I’ve lived with, procreated with, and will marry in only two short weeks.

  Roman is not a troubled man. He is not mentally ill. He isn’t a broken man behind sad, unfortunate events which have led to his hands being covered in the blood of twelve women. He is truly evil. Satan in the flesh. The king of deception, the spider in a web a lies, the snake in the grass who strikes before you see him. Roman is the ruler of this hell in which my life has become.

  Now for my explanation of how I came to where I am today…yes, I knew while my jaw was sewn shut, after I witnessed him strangle my uncle, it would take nothing more than me deciding to escape, and I easily could do so and immediately have him arrested on several counts. Kidnapping, imprisonment, rape, attempted murder. Easily. And perhaps that knowledge is why I stayed. Perhaps it was my guilt causing an unconscious need I felt I deserved to carry this… this albatross for being attracted to a man like Roman.

  Was it Roman’s beauty that captivated me, drove me to turn a blind eye to the signs he was indeed a monster? Or was it my naïve hopefulness that I could be able to love him enough, give him my purity… Did I believe the blood of my virtue would wash away the sins of his past?

  I don’t know why. I only know I couldn’t leave, not until I found the reason I was so captivated by him.

  I have lied for Roman. I walked away from my family for him. Stood up for him, protected him, all while not doing a single thing to protect myself from him, or prevent myself from falling in love with him.

  It’s a very sad fucking day when the man you happily woke up lying next to, the man you love with all of your heart, is the man who’s eyes you stare into and discover how much you truly hate him, all in less than eight hours from the time you awoke.

  This morning when the sun filtered in, I loved Roman. Wholly and irrevocably. And even though it has been less than a handful of hours, less than one day, the man I loved this morning, is the exact same man I despise on a fundamentally inherent level.

  From this day forward, I am absolutely finished. I’m done. I don’t care what the fuck makes him tick. I don’t care where the evilness inside him comes from, or what wrongs he endured, transforming him in to a sinner. Any emotion I ever felt for him that resembled empathy, love, pride, hope, respect, or affection becomes a void leaving nothing behind except odium and pure, infinite hatred. And until the time comes… I will make sure he doesn’t know.

  I will smile and continue to portray the exemplar of the perfectly obedient fiancé then wife of the almighty Roman Payne.

  My daddy always told me to follow my gut. I’ve cut my heart out and tossed it to the waste side. Now… my gut is all I have left to follow.

  Chapter 26

  She couldn’t have done a better job tonight if I had paid and coached her to execute the performance. I come to the realization after I’ve hit below the belt time and time again in a tone hushed enough for only her ears to hear, Heather is not merely slipping back into her role as my possession, but instead becoming an extremely worthy adversary, one of which the likes I’ve never seen or encountered before.

  The night after I laid silently still and listened to her whispered confession I moved her belongings to my room and locked the doors to hers, in hopes of her regaining whatever appeal or amusement she held by implanting her into every facet of my life. Having her being a constant continuum, in not only my days but my nights as well.

  When I say I know I’ve finally met an opponent strong enough to possibly defeat me, that in itself is saying something significant. Heather proves her superiority so well even I fucking question our reality. During our daily routines her obedience and personification of perfectness never once wavers.

  The day after our ‘family get together’ all wedding decisions, including the brides dress and shoes were cancelled and resubmitted… for my approval.

  I vetoed every single one of her choices even though ninety nine percent I agreed with, but because they were her decisions, they were rejected.

  I picked out the floral arrangements and I couldn’t tell you what color they were, much less identify the flowers by name. I did the exact same thing with every other aspect of this wedding, including Heather’s dress, shoes, makeup artist, and hair stylist.

  It was of no concern for me, other than the sheer fact that Heather had no say in the matter.

  Today is the day before Heather and I are going to get married. At my mother insistence, her and Heather left early this morning for a spa day which will be followed by a stay in the most luxurious hotel in Seattle. The makeup and hair stylists will meet them for brunch tomorrow before they assault my bride with creams, powder, blush, curling irons and God knows what else before the limo brings my Heather back home and I make her my wife under, the only thing she held firm against changing, the wisteria canopy in the gardens.

  With Heather and mother gone, my father and I head to the golf course trying to cure our idle
hands.

  I ended the phone conversation between Heather and her brother before she was able to mention me, our child or our wedding.

  The night after the phone call incident, I lied to Heather, telling her I invited her brothers to the family dinner and our wedding. I told her that the story she came up with worked like a charm and her brothers couldn’t wait to see her.

  I could see how hurt she’d been when her brother’s didn’t show up to dinner, but all I was able to muster was a shrug.

  Tomorrow, when they don’t attend the wedding, I’m not certain I’ll be able to maintain control over her obedience.

  My father clears his throat pulling me from my thoughts at the seventh hole, his eyes remain on the golf ball, however as soon as he speaks I know it isn’t the ball he is seeing.

  “Roman, I tried, son. I swear to God I tried to be the father you deserved. I chose the best woman, not just the prettiest, but the smartest and the kindest.” He abruptly stands before dropping his Callaway golf club into his golf bag and narrows his eyes on mine. “I have cleaned up eleven of your twelve messes, son. One of them physically, and ten of them legally. Heather… she is different. Do you honestly think you’re the only Payne man to make damn sure he’s done his homework?” He chuckles before shaking his head and looking at the golf courses grass. “I know who she is, I know why she’s in your life. But for the life of me I can’t wrap my head around how you ended up sleeping with your enemy. Much less create a living life with her. I guess what I’m trying to say is, any bed you make in the future, you will be made to lie in. I’ve transferred your entire trust fund and family inheritance to not only Heather but the child she carries now and any child she carries and delivers after. Your child or not. The first time I see a bruise, black eye, or torn skin on her body like I saw in France, you’re done. I will cut you out of not only the threads of this family, but any red cent your family name caused you to inherit.” Both his hands pat my shoulders before they fall back to his sides. “Son, you’re self destructive, yet somehow, you stumbled upon your soul mate. Your one and only. And if you don’t think I am paying attention, making note of every whispered, hateful word you think has gone unheard, you are wrong. Roman it’s time you find those demons of yours, and annihilate every one. If you don’t, you’ll never be happy, I can promise you that.”