“I need you to do that when Elizabeth and Pascal are with us—look after them, be impartial and let me have my fun, but stop me when it’s time to, guide me,” he says out of nowhere. I don’t have any response for that. I don’t even know what he means. Guide him? In what? Fucking?
I cross my arms, irritated at my own lack of self-control, and inwardly try to shut any sensation down, close it off, make it disappear to a place it will never return from. That was not good, or fun. It’s not happening again. Ever.
“No.” That’s it—the best and most sensible answer I have. I don’t even want to discuss it. He and I again are not happening, in any way, at any time. No. Not, as Pascal would say. Does he know about this? I fucking hope not. He should have discussed it with me if he did. “I’ve helped you enough.”
I swing my legs around to head for the door, peeling my glove off and launching it back to the rest of my shield. Stop him when it’s time? Farcical is my best thought to that image as I shrug my shoulders around, hoping to make my back feel a little healthier. My feet hit the steps, hoping this exit will lead me out into some fresh air, where rational thought will preside again and the Alexanders of the world will not be able to mess with my head.
Nearly bursting through the main entrance of the house, I run down the steps, taking them two at a time, my heels clattering beneath me as I pass a sentry on guard. I should go for a swim, strip myself out of these clothes and go be at one with myself, remind myself who I am, what I want. Alexander isn’t it. And certainly not three of them in a room with me. What the fuck does that mean? Foursome? Orgy? With me somehow making sure he doesn’t go too far? Christ. Am I supposed to care? Make sure they’re all safe and happy in their little trio of fucking and whipping. It’s a damn madhouse again.
“Lilah?” His voice calls from somewhere close behind.
I pick up my pace, quickly covering the path down to the grassy area as I hold my long dress up to make my way to the lake. He can’t get me in there, can’t get into my brain. Perhaps he’ll drop it and we can forget about it. Finish it before it’s started. Good call. I just want to work with him, that’s all. I don’t want him naked or aggressive, or whatever was going to happen in there. He’s just a friend. Friend. Oh God, what was my brain playing at in there?
My shoes go first, kicked from my feet as I see the lake getting closer. I’m half pulling at my dress as I scramble down the path, dodging the flowerbeds as I do and searching for the entrance through the trees to the lake. It feels dirty, stained by what happened. It leaves me with a huff of annoyance as I step out of it and throw it onto the wet sand beneath me, giving me more room to run at speed towards the water’s edge. God, it feels good as I pound the earth, pumping my arms to gain more momentum. It feels free, openly inviting my independence again as I feel the water begin to slosh around my ankles and carry on until I’m knee deep.
The moment I dive under the surface and let the cold bury me, sanity returns. Everything becomes about me again. Me, and what I want. Pascal is what I want. On my terms, nobody else’s. My arms sluice me along under the surface, not knowing where I’m heading as I imagine his mouth on mine, the way his hands knead me, the way his eyes sparkle first thing in the morning. Our fairytale is back there waiting for us. We’re so fucking close. I can feel it in him, sense it in his heart when he looks at Claire. He needs this, too, but does he still need Alexander? Is the man always going to be part of this? Christ.
I’m so deep in thought I choke as I break back through the surface, spluttering and gasping for air as I search for light in the darkness. I spin around slowly in the black of night, catching sight of the house twinkling behind me so I can orientate myself then collapse back into the water to look up at the stars. It’s quiet, peaceful. I pull in breaths again, calming my slightly panicked thoughts and levelling myself back to normal. I’ll just lie here for a while and let the water soothe me as it licks at my face. It can smother me if it likes. I’ll kick my way back out of it again. I’ll kick my way out of anything.
After God knows how long, a noise starts to interfere with my harmony. It’s low and dull, reverberating in the background and breaking the silence. I try to ignore it, but it just seems to get louder, almost as if it’s intentionally trying to piss me off. I slowly let my body glide upright, treading water and staring out into the night to try to find the source of my annoyance. A light flashes in the distance, and I see it bobbing through the puffs of breath leaving my mouth. A boat? One that is not welcome. I stay still, hovering just my lips above the surface in case it’s someone that shouldn’t be here. It could be Thomas and Ruebin bringing the speedboat home, Pascal even, I suppose. It could also be Jon, or one of his vile acquaintances. I check the shoreline again to see if anyone’s about. Someone’s there, standing on the beach. I narrow my eyes for better perspective. It’s not a guard. It’s Alexander. I can tell by his build. Has he been there all this time? He doesn’t strike me as a patient man. I’m surprised he hasn’t swum in here and dragged me out again to carry on with his odd discussion. Whatever. Perhaps he’s looking out for me.
I turn back to the boat again, quietly allowing the water to eat me up and dropping my head a little further down as the noise gets louder. Light glares into my eyes at one point, so I drop under completely and kick away in the other direction, hoping to stay unnoticed. By the time I surface, the noise appears to have decreased to almost nothing, just the quiet murmur of an engine.
“If you require saving, I may oblige,” Pascal says as a light bounces around the surface, searching for me. It’s a yummy thought. We could fuck away the ache that’s still exasperating me.
“You said you wouldn’t save me, that I should learn to save myself,” I call back, swimming towards the small light on the front of the boat and smiling.
“Hmm. It is you. You, my love, are the last person who should require saving.”
Nice to know he thinks so. I chuckle in response and swim the last few metres as he comes into view, suddenly desperate to touch him, to be touched by him. He’s there above me the moment I reach the side, a heavenly smile gracing his contented face, and one designer shoe braced on the side of the boat as he dangles a hand down to me. I stare up for a moment, simply breathing in the beauty of him in his three-piece suit as he hovers there and the water laps around me. He’s almost God-like against the stars with his hair gently tickling his shoulders and his green eyes reflecting the swirling liquid beneath. Appealing.
“And what, pray tell, possessed you to come swimming at such an hour, again?” Your dominant did. I grab his hand and half think about pulling him in before I’m given no option and he hauls me out. It seems I weigh as much as a gnat.
“Alexander pissed me off,” I reply, as he hands me a towel from somewhere. He did. Still is doing. Even though it is relatively sweet that he was watching me to ensure my safety. “It seemed the safest option to swim away from the issue.”
“Safest for whom, hmm?” He’s smirking at me as I dry myself off, scanning his eyes over my see-through underwear that was not made for swimming in. I strip it off, considering whether or not to tell him the rest of our little dalliance. There wasn’t any fucking, but we said honesty, didn’t we? All out honesty. Him and me. Together. This isn’t amusing. It wasn’t amusing. It’s potentially devastating to our search for harmony together.
“For all of us,” I reply eventually, with a strangely sad smile, letting the wet bra and knickers fall to the deck beneath us. “I think he wants more than I’m prepared to give.”
His smirk disperses immediately, replaced by a vicious scowl of fury as he turns from me and points at the chair.
“Sit,” he orders, revving the engine and turning the boat back in the direction of the house. I hover for a moment, considering the right route forward. The last time there was a disagreement between them, Alexander ended up in hospital with his blood all over my clothes.
“No, wait. I need to ask you a question before we go any fu
rther.” He doesn’t turn back to me. He just presses on the lever to increase the boat’s pace as I hold on and walk towards him.
“What?”
“What does this collaring mean to you? I need clarification. I need to understand. I need to know it all.” This time he does turn, not decreasing the speed but at least acknowledging my question and blowing out a breath as the wind whips around us. “We have to talk about it, Pascal.”
“For that, my love, I need a drink.”
Chapter 17
I’m naked again as we walk back into the house via the terrace, not bothered by the towel that was offered. Actually, I’m not even walking. I’m being carried. It’s rather nice. Apparently we didn’t need my clothes because they’re still on the beach, where they can rot for all I care. The damage done to them at the very image of me with Alexander can fester there until this conversation is dealt with. Only then can I make a rational decision.
“Did he harm you?” he asks, depositing me onto the rug by the fire. I turn my back to face him, letting him see the scratches and slight bruising that I know are there. It’s probably dulled down now after my swim in the cold water, but it’s there for him to see. It doesn’t hurt really. It’s nothing in comparison to what he could do if he chose to, I’m sure. He did it to rev me up, as he said, enough that I would be forced to retaliate. Clever bastard.
“Harm is an interesting word in this world you live in, don’t you think?” Is my reply as I stare into the flames and feel his fingers gently gliding over my back. He sighs and kisses the back of my neck, softly gripping my waist and then releasing me to wander off.
“A drink, hmm?” Yes.
“Vodka.”
“Where is Claire?” Claire. I stare into the flames some more, letting their warmth rise across my skin as I think about her. Such innocence, far too much for the likes of the people around her. I turn back to him, reaching for a blanket and wrapping it around me so I can sit down, strangely embarrassed by my nakedness all of a sudden.
“Beth is with her. She promised to stay with her until you came back. I can only assume that means Alexander is, too, given he’s not here demanding more absurdity from me.”
He hands me a large vodka tonic and then backs himself away to the opposing wingback, a slightly perplexed frown on his face.
“The guard?”
“He’s still outside her room as far as I know.”
“Hmm.”
“So, collaring?” He groans, pressing his fingers into the bridge of his nose and looking more tired than I have ever seen him. “Is it really such a distressing thought?”
“What did he want from you?” He’s absolutely not getting out of this.
“Ah, ah. No. You first. You want honesty from me about this then you’re going to have to give it in return. How do you feel about him? And why?”
He smiles as we stare at each other. It’s quite devastating in its effect on my reasoning. He braces his elbows on the chair arms, running his talented fingers across his lips. “The truth, Pascal. We only go forward with all the truths.” I half glare at him, just managing to keep my smile in check and remain serious given his attempt at deviation from the subject at hand.
The very man we’re talking about suddenly arrives at the door. I don’t look at him. The only person I’m interested in is Pascal. I’m focused on him and what he needs from me. Alexander can go fuck himself for all I care, or Elizabeth, or even Pascal if the man I love agrees to that. What he can’t do is fuck me, or with me.
“Claire is sleeping. Elizabeth is still in there with her,” he says gently, as if he’s decided to return to kind mode. I snort at the thought thinking of the dungeon encounter.
Pascal does look, though. And not only does he look, but he bows his head a little as he does, nodding and deferring to his presence in the space. It tells me everything I need to know without any need for the rest of the conversation. The quiet chuckle from Alexander as he walks past us towards the drinks is not amusing. It pisses me off as I keep staring at Pascal, wondering what all this means. Is that still what he wants? Alexander?
“More than your fairytale?” I ask. He needs to make decisions, or at the very least let me have my answers. I don’t care that he wants Alexander, too. I never have, really. I’ve always known it’s part of the conundrum that is him. It’s who he is. What I do care about is that I’m not the first to know. I care that, for us to work, I must know. We must be equal, because if we’re not then it’s tantamount to him hiding things from me, and that I will not have.
“Define fairytale, Lilah,” Alexander says, wandering over and putting himself between Pascal and I. The irony doesn’t go unnoticed as I gaze at his handsome face and wonder how long I’ll have to put up with him coming between us. His lips sip at his drink, and he never once removes his eyes from mine, letting them stare into me with no fear of any consequences. He knows he has Pascal, knows he has Beth, and he knows he’s safe. There’s nothing here that I can use to make any difference to the situation at hand, other than making my own choice to leave.
“Have you actually said thank you yet?” I randomly blurt out, because fuck him and his unending power in this whole thing. “And I don’t believe you apologized downstairs, either.”
“You took her downstairs?” Pascal says, slightly startled and rising from his chair. Alexander just waves his hand behind him slowly, apparently ordering the love of my life to sit down, because he does just that.
“No, stand up, Pascal,” I say, crossing my legs and lounging back into my seat. It’s time for my own show of power. He doesn’t stand, but he does flick his eyes to me, presumably wondering what the fuck is going on. “I’d like you to show Alexander and I what you want, just so we’re clear on what the hell we’re all doing here.”
Alexander’s brow rises, a small amount of contempt shining in my direction. Fine. I’ve just ridden his back for a while with no problems apart from a few cuts and bruises. I’ll do it again if he likes, from this chair, and with as much fury as he made me feel downstairs.
“Instead of being ordered around by your master, if that’s what he is, why don’t you just grow a pair and stand up for what you want?”
Not once have I removed my eyes from Alexander’s. Not once. I pick up my drink and let the liquid soothe my heated throat, maybe attempting to replace sanity too. I don’t know, but I’m not stopping now. What’s left to lose?
“It’s all quite confusing, isn’t it? Apparently, I’m supposed to become some kind of lasso for Alexander now. That’s what you meant, isn’t it? Someone to rein you in when you lose control? Jump on your back and dig my claws in enough that you remember what the hell you’re doing?” That does make Pascal stand up. He walks slowly at first, unsure of himself maybe, but then rounds on Alexander. “Seems I’m some sort of key. Unlock the door, lock the door. That’s the real deal here, isn’t it? Close you down when it all becomes too aggressive?” Even I don’t understand that theory. I can’t quite comprehend the thought, to be honest, let alone the actuality of the event. Although, Alexanders slightly quizzical smirk as I carry on fires my revulsion of the position we’re all in.
“You ask this of her without asking me?”
Blue eyes stare at green as he moves his eyes from mine and watches Pascal intently. It’s the first time I’ve seen real confusion between them. There’s no anger or hatred. No one’s about to be hurt. There only seems to be love shining between their questioning gazes. The blue ones are focused and not backing down, but the green ones are beginning to scowl as Pascal’s head tips away, perhaps more annoyed he wasn’t asked than anything else.
“Why would I ask you?” Alexander eventually asks. Why indeed, I suppose. Dominants and their submissives don’t trade positions. They simply are. It seems Alexander is using his influence to full effect. Leading the way. But I’m no submissive. He made sure of that when he asked me to rev up.
“Out of damn courtesy, maybe? A bit like saying thank you when
someone saves your life. A bit like saying thank you when someone keeps your secrets from the woman you love? Or the man you love? Hmm? You should have a little more respect for those who choose to support your cause.” I’m rewarded with a growl of irritation. It’s amusing enough to have me chuckling to myself and glaring at him. “Fuck you and your growling. Perhaps I should have ridden that growl out of you, huh? Should we have, Pascal? What do you think? Is that how this is going to end up? All of us fucking like degenerates with no order to the chaos?” The sharp swing of Pascal’s scowl towards my face cuts like glass as he shows his frustration at the thought. Well, tough. They’re my words to say. Mine to deliver. He can deal with them as he wants. I won’t be quietened in this. I have choices.
“Lilah, this is not the way…” I stand up, the blanket dropping from me as I do, and put myself right in between them before Alexander utters another word about how this is all going to work. Pascal and I will work that out, not him.
“Show me,” I snap, my arm pointing at the doorway as I stare into darkening blue holes of dominance. “Show me what you’re capable of and I’ll make a decision as to whether I want to be a part of it.”
“My love, it is not so simple…” He can shut up, too. I turn and snarl at him, fed up to the hind teeth with all of this going backwards and forwards. Enough now. I want my chance at happiness or I’ll pack my bags and leave to find it elsewhere. He knows this, as the blue-eyed one ought to. Isn’t that what we all want here? Surely it is. Damn those soundless smirks and never-ending not quite answered questions. “And have you asked Beth? How does she feel about this?”
Serenity's Key: VDB 3 (The VDB Trilogy) Page 26