by SE Chardou
“What? And I’m not?” I screamed at him.
“I didn’t mean it like that. Come with me.” Rory grabbed the bottle of Cristal before he slid his arm around my waist.
As we passed, Severin stood and murmured, “Du gehörst zu mir . . . nicht vergessen.”
I didn’t bother to ask what he meant though Rory said something mumbled in German to his brother before we strode to his bedroom and he closed the doors behind us and turned the lock on the door knob.
“What was that about?”
Rory still faced the double doors. “Trouble between my brother and I but nothing for you to worry about.”
I walked toward him but stopped as he turned toward me. “What did he say to you?”
“To paraphrase, ‘I should remember I belong to him.’ It can be misinterpreted—it doesn’t mean the way it sounds. I merely replied ‘I don’t belong to anyone but myself,’ but that was meant to hurt him. It was all so immature and unnecessary . . . I don’t want to talk about it.”
He looked at the sheets and scrunched his face up in disgust before he strode to the bed and began to strip it. Was this his version of a panic attack? The bottle of champagne had been left on the floor in a precarious position and I grabbed it as he continued to take the linens off the pillowcases.
There was a fireplace that had never been used with a gorgeous brick mantelpiece. I placed it there before I approached him reluctantly and touched his shoulder. He whipped around to face me, his expression contorted into a mask of anger and rage.
At the look of fright on my face, his features softened as he grabbed me possessively before he kissed me long and hard against my mouth. I allowed his tongue to probe my mouth and I surrendered to the sensation because I wanted to do anything it took to calm him down.
We finally separated. “I’m sorry . . . this is going to be impossible and I can’t do this. I won’t let you go tonight because that arrogant prick doesn’t deserve you. You’re an amazing woman and to think . . . you are going back to that . . . smug son of a bitch who will never appreciate you.”
I chewed on my lip that had started to swell from our bruising kiss. “No, I’m not.”
“What?”
“Who is Gabriel and why should I talk to him?” I wondered out loud, purposely changing the subject.
Rory sat on the stripped bed and ran his hands over his face. “He’s our attorney and financial advisor. I specifically told him not to contact you until after the funeral because…I didn’t want you to be upset or think I was trying to buy you.”
I looked at him though he did not meet my gaze. “What’s going on, Rory?”
“Your sister left her monetary wealth to your parents. It isn’t much but they will have a nice retirement and knowing your parents, they’ll be okay. I didn’t understand her decision nor did I think it was right. I’d always put aside some money for her and when she died, you inherited it. It’s not a fortune but I think it will give you the financial freedom you require,” he explained before his blue-green eyes met mine.
“How much is it?” I questioned while keeping my voice calm and even-toned.
“Does it matter if you’re not going to accept it? This was before I knew who you were. I only knew she had a sister and I decided you should inherit her money if anything were to happen to her. I found out later . . . who you were . . . your reputation and your dedication to the truth.”
Was he mocking my profession?
“You don’t like what I do?”
“What? Journalism? It was one time a very noble profession but now it is chasing down the Kardashian sisters and their latest lovers. Or wondering when the latest one-hit-wonder will be exposed with an ill-timed sex tape to revive their waning career. It isn’t a profession I consider with any conviction or ethics what so ever, that’s for sure,” he replied in a snide tone.
I laughed. “I don’t do the entertainment section and you know it. I do the hard core stories and investigative journalism—”
“Yes, I know. You were one of the first journalists in harm’s way during the whole ‘Arab Spring’ uprisings and you do stories about Tibet and Darfur and Myanmar and Timor. I’m not ignorant in the way of the world. I attended the University of Munich at the age of sixteen and graduated with a Bachelor of Science in Business Administration. I received my Masters in Business Admin from Columbia University at the age of twenty-one and have a Doctorate in Philosophy from Harvard in Political Economy and Government. I followed the same path as your current President so…you don’t have to try to educate me about the world’s issues. I know them a little bit too well.
“My point is what good does it do to talk about these places and what’s going on there if you have absolutely no fucking clue how to change the course of the situation? The problems are a little more complex than having a fund raiser with George Clooney and throwing money at the ‘issue’ before turning your attention to yet another bleeding heart cause in the world.”
“What would you propose I do?” I shot back, not bothering to hide my frustration. “I will take your fucking money—however much it is—and probably give half of it to these ‘worthless’ causes but it will make me feel better and I know at the end of the day although it’s probably useless but . . . it’s better than doing nothing at all. I am so scared that what we have lost most is our humanity and our ability to feel. Is that what attracted you to the lifestyle in the first place? Is feeling pain or pleasure better than feeling nothing at all?”
I closed my eyes and before I could open them, I felt him next to me and his hand, so soft and hot, was running down my bare arm. It was the most exquisite and beautiful feeling on earth.
“Yes, the experience of pleasure and pain is better than feeling nothing at all. You want to know why? It is the feeling of being alive instead of subsisting through life as if we are already dead. Do you think you are the only one who walks through life numb, Aurélie? We Germans have turned it into a proper blood sport. To feel dedication and passion for anything is to be reminded of our fanatical history so we prefer to feel nothing at all. Everything is mechanical and precise and perfect. Alas, perfection does not exist but we hopelessly strive for this fantasy to be fulfilled.”
I sagged against his hard body and slipped my arms around his neck as his hands wandered down to cup my breasts. I could feel the outline of his hard cock against my back and I murmured as he ripped my bikini top and teased my nipples with nimble fingers. His mouth sank down to my neck and left hard sucks and bite marks against my neck in his last effort to claim me for as long as we had together.
“I thought you couldn’t do this?” I questioned breathlessly.
“I can’t and I shouldn’t but you . . . du faszinieren und erschrecken mich.”
“J'ai peur aussi,” I whispered, “but I am more afraid of not doing this with you than I am of continuing.”
Rory flipped me around and pressed my breasts to his clothed chest. “One more time . . . and then we will say goodbye to each other?”
“Yes, just once more and then we let go forever.”
It was so easy for me to fall back into his embrace, which felt like a welcome home and this time, there were no games yet there were no rules either. He kissed me slowly, passionately, and I swear I felt like a teenager again. I could spend hours in his arms as heat and juices flooded the bottom half of my bikini with overwhelming warmth. The feeling was so explosive and unexpected; it threatened to burn me in a fiery inferno to last all of eternity.
His hands, once so cruel, were like silk upon my skin and when he touched me between my legs, it was a gentle caress to soothe an ache the likes of which I had never experienced. I felt safe and secure though I should have taken little solace in this knowledge; it overwhelmed me with joy and pleasure.
I sighed as his fingers undid the little bows on the side of my bikini and it dropped to the floor before I hoisted myself around his waist and he didn’t let go of me. His fingers were too busy trying to
unbutton his jeans and I impaled myself on his cock the moment it was exposed.
We moaned together as he began to fuck me painfully slow where he stood and I tried to control our movements but it was an awkward position to be in and allowed him full control over our sex.
I wondered if he wanted to dominate me at all when he whispered in my ear, “Don’t you fucking come until I say so.”
“What happens if I do?”
“You’ll be punished.”
“Maybe I want to be punished. It will make you keep me here longer than necessary and I won’t have to enter the real world. Not yet, not now.”
Rory shut me up as he kissed my lips again and his tongue invaded my mouth with a furious caress I caved into immediately. Slowly, he inched us toward the bed and threw me down on it though there was nothing except a mattress pad, which covered the bare mattress underneath.
He suddenly withdrew from me and stood as I lay down with my eyes closed before I opened them to see what he was doing.
I sat up with my legs splayed and watched as he took off his wife-beater and stripped out of his jeans. His body was so lean and smooth and hairless. He was shaved everywhere and I hadn’t noticed this last night. His cock, scarlet with an angry purple tip looked strange against his skin, which was alabaster with only the tiniest hint of color. I don’t know why but he made having pale skin seem cool and gothic. There wasn’t anything pasty about his complexion; instead he resembled a marble statue, perfect and white against my olive toned skin. The combination of his milky skin against my own was another turn on neither of us could explain nor comprehend.
“What is it? I’m not tanned, I know. I should go to one of those salons and get a spray on because . . . alas, I can’t naturally. Not very sexy, is it?”
“Why? Because you are supposed to be dark haired and tanned to be handsome?” I inquired out loud.
“Yes, of course. It’s what all the magazines say a strong alpha male should be.”
“I love you just the way you are.”
I crushed my lips against his if only to cover the faux pas of my wording. I didn’t love anything and we were just fucking because that was what healthy, normal adults did when they were attracted to one another. There would be no love, only lust.
Rory interrupted our kiss as his body crushed my own but he leaned up a bit, if only to see my breasts. He caressed them before he bent down and took my left nipple into his mouth. I moaned out loud.
“I love the way you look, your skin, the smell of your flesh. I thought I would never . . . but now, all I can smell is you. Your scent haunts me and I think every time I smell violets and vanilla again, I will instantly be reminded of you.”
“You have me now,” I said.
“Yes, I do. But sometimes possession isn’t enough. Especially when it isn’t long term and I have absolutely no control over when you will leave me.”
“Nothing lasts forever, Rory. You know that better than I do.”
“And I still want you in my arms and here in my bed like this, forever. I would give up everything for you, including the life. If you don’t want it then we can be a vanilla couple and I would do it for you. We don’t ever have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
Tears in my eyes blurred my vision. “Rory, stop it . . . stop all the inane chit chat, and just fuck me, please.”
“It won’t cure what you are missing . . . what I am missing and we both know that, Aurélie.”
“True but we both agreed ahead of time what this would be and sometimes in life, there are no take-backs so you just have to settle with what you asked of me and when the time is right for me to leave then I will do so,” I responded in a diplomatic fashion.
“Fine.” His aquamarine eyes were bright yet they cooled considerably beneath my gaze. “Turn over so I don’t have to look at you.”
“You’re not going to . . .” I trailed off, dreading the thought of him taking me anally. My ass was incredibly sore as I had never been an enthusiast of back door love and preferred it the natural, normal way people usually had sex.
“That isn’t for you to decide. Remember, I own you until I have to return you to your normal, every day, vanilla life so I can do what ever the fuck I want to do to you.”
I turned over onto my stomach and he grabbed me by the waist and pulled me down until my feet rested on the floor. I couldn’t hide my legs felt shaky and uncertain underneath me even with his strong hands and the steady way he held me.
Rory slid into me and I moaned as he began to thrust inside me with slow, deliberate movements, which shook me to the core of my being. My legs wanted to give way and I didn’t feel comfortable standing up. I tried to redistribute my weight and put more pressure on my upper body that still clutched the bed. One of his hands no longer held my waist and had snaked its way between my splayed legs. His fingers massaged my clit and just as I was on the precipice of coming, he withdrew and his fingers disappeared.
I was beyond sexually frustrated and moaned but it was one of sheer anger and annoyance. He laughed and worked his rock-hard cock into my asshole, opening and stretching me until he was ball’s deep inside my back passage. I bit down on my lower lip and tried to hold back the sounds that would tell him I was no longer enjoying this even if he was. It didn’t seem fair. I had basically told him no to a relationship so he was going to punish me because he could and he knew I would do nothing to stop him.
I had to admit it wasn’t nearly as painful as the night before or when Severin had used me there earlier. Perhaps it wasn’t so bad after all. I tried to remember the few books I’d read about BDSM. Annabel Joseph’s came to mind and I remembered her talking about a place a submissive would go when the pain became unbearable. However, I didn’t have a “go to” place since I’d never been that out of it I needed to escape from sex while I was in the position to have it.
When I thought I wouldn’t be able to take it anymore because he was slamming and thrusting into me as if he would never have sex again and we were both covered in thin layers of sweat, he began to stroke my clit again and I was pleasantly surprised to find it was hard as granite under his touch. I was still turned on even though he was doing nothing for me sexually other than making me angry, he whispered in my ear, “Come now.”
Dear God, I hated myself at that very moment but when he commanded me to orgasm, I did. It shook from the core of my being and worked its way outward until I screamed with release and he released a string of angry curse words in German as he came at the same time.
What was he doing to me? I would never be able to live through this or afterwards but at that moment, I lived for the never-ending orgasm that continued to flow from my body underneath his heavy-handed yet smooth touch.
Chapter Ten
DINNER WAS A PAINFUL OCCASION because soon, I knew we would leave in Rory’s Porsche Cayenne and he would drive me back to the City under the pretense of taking of me home.
I had made a decision that was long overdue. I couldn’t continue to deceive Grayson and pretend as if nothing had happened between Rory and I. Although I would never give him details, I would end our engagement and I intended to find out who killed my sister.
There was a box of her stuff to go through which had been delivered the same day as I’d ventured into Club X-Tasy. I was loathe to read her journals but they took up half the box and thus it was only fair to see what she’d said about her togetherness with Rory.
I could clearly say I no longer suspected him but I did believe someone in his inner circle was capable of such a heinous crime. He would have never known it especially if the murderer was someone Severin knew. I didn’t tell him any of this because frankly, it wasn’t any of his business. He would do an investigation of his own but he wouldn’t look at the obvious nor could be objective like I could.
Trésor was my sibling but we had barely been sisterly towards one another in years. We might as well have been only children with the way we acted towards one another. One
minute, she called our parents’ and I; the next, she simply broke off contact.
The strange part about the whole affair was there hadn’t been a huge falling out or explosive disagreement. She simply stopped caring about us—her family. She began to ignore our parents and me as if we’d died. We were no longer people she felt like she had to care about any longer.
All I knew was it happened after she and Rory started seeing one another exclusively, and I hoped her journals would give me a clue. This was a huge reason why I no longer suspected Rory. If he had anything to hide, why had he kept the journals from the police yet given them to me? Perhaps that proved he did have something he didn’t want them to read about after all. Now he’d had me every which way there was to have sex with someone, he thought I would be too ashamed to approach law enforcement. However, our numerous sexual liaisons wouldn’t stop me if I found out anything that wasn’t completely copacetic.
I couldn’t disagree he’d built up a great defense argument I’d have a hard time fighting in court.
I was jealous of my sister and wanted the life she led so after her death, I had slept with her former boyfriend and after he’d dumped me, I’d accused him of having something to do with the death of my sister. It would be very difficult to prove otherwise. Severin would give testimony of my clinginess and how I was unable to let go after Rory had made it perfectly clear our affair would be a fling and little else. It was perfect in fact; I no longer put it past him to have set it up that way just so he would have the perfect alibi. And he had a suspect in me that although there was little proof in the way of circumstantial evidence, a good defense attorney could make me look guilty as sin.
“How is the salmon?”
“What?” I asked, completely absent-mindedly.
“I asked how is the salmon? You seem a bit lost in your thoughts over there.”
I looked at Severin before I observed the table. There was only Rory, he and I who were seated while his two slaves were seated at his feet and he fed them from a separate plate, giving them scraps of food with his fingers.