His Absolute Betrayal - Elise's Love Story: The Billionaire's Continuum (#2) (A Contemporary Romance Novel)

by Cerys du Lys

"Oh," I said. "What, really? He was an art director?"

  "Yes, something like that. More precisely, the curator."

  "He looked a little shady," I said.

  "He's anything but shady," Lucent said.

  "That's what you say, but is he involved in your... your things?"

  Lucent frowned. "He might be somewhat shady, by that definition."

  "See? I knew it." I looked around then, realizing I didn't know anything about where we were. I didn't recognize any of this. "Where are we, by the way?"

  "Somewhere safe," Lucent said. "Come."

  He took my hand. I went. We walked down the street for a little, then turned and went up some steps into an older styled apartment building. It looked nothing like mine, and definitely nothing like Lucent's. It looked nice enough, though. Most of the buildings on this block looked like that, built in a much older style, possibly from around the time the city was first established. It almost reminded me of the library, except obviously this was an apartment building and had been for some time now.

  Lucent opened the door for me and I stepped inside. He entered after me. The door closed behind us of its own accord, an easing spring mechanism shutting it gently.

  We walked through a quiet lobby towards an elevator. Lucent pressed the button to go up. The doors opened soon after, and we stepped inside. Lucent's hand hovered over the the buttons on the interior panel before hitting the button marking floor three. Then, up we went.

  All things considered, it was very normal and uneventful. We arrived, stepped out, and walked down the hall to apartment #307. Lucent knocked on the door. He waited, and I waited with him. Someone started to undo the bolts and locks from the inside, then the door swung open.

  An attractive woman with dark hair and pale skin ushered us inside. I didn't know how I felt about that. I didn't want to be jealous, but how and why did Lucent know an attractive woman? It was just an instinctive thought, a vague worry, except perhaps it turned out to be more.

  Once the door shut behind us, the woman scrambled to her knees in front of Lucent. She lowered her head, hiding her face with her black flowing hair. She rested her hands on her thighs, complacent and submissive. I recognized that pose, because it was one Lucent taught me about. Maybe it wasn't exactly sexual, but in my mind it was. It was related to BDSM, at least according to what Lucent said.

  He seemed as taken aback by her gesture as I was, but he hid it well enough, returning to a wall of austerity after a fraction of a second of confused annoyance.

  "Master Storme," the woman said. "Welcome. Thank you for trusting me with something this important," she added. And then... "Sir."

  Master Storme? Submissive pose, kneeling before Lucent, hands on her thighs as if she were awaiting orders. And, sir?

  What the hell was going on? I wanted to ask Lucent that, to demand he tell me, but my voice stuck in my throat, too shocked for words.

  Lucent wasn't shocked, though. Oh, no, not at all. He treated this like some common occurrence. Maybe not exactly like that, but he didn't seem too surprised.

  "Come now, Elle," he said. "We've been through this before. Stand up."

  She stood. It seemed to me that she stood more because Lucent ordered her to as opposed to what she actually wanted to do, though. She kept her eyes cast downwards, hair still hiding her features.

  I stared at her, worried, unsure why I was worried. She was pretty, yes. More than pretty. She was extremely attractive. Possibly not like a supermodel or an actress, but I thought she probably turned more than her fair share of heads when she walked down the street. She wore a casual dress, a darker brown color almost like a burlap sack, except much nicer and form fitting. And she had a form to fit to it, too. Soft curves sweeping up her body, feminine hips, nice breasts. I had nice breasts, I thought. If Lucent couldn't see I had nice breasts, then I thought he was blind.

  Except, no, he did think I had nice breasts. I didn't remember specifically what he said, but he liked them. Why was I even doing this? Comparing myself to this woman? I didn't know. I didn't like her.

  Then I saw it. Just a quick glimpse, but she wore a choker. I didn't have mine on me at the moment, but my hand went to my neck in remembrance. It was a gift Lucent gave to me months ago. I loved it, too. It was plain, crafted from leather, and fit tight around my neck. On the inside of it, burned into the leather so that I could feel it whenever I moved my head and it pressed against my throat was the word His.

  Lucent gave it to me. I knew I wasn't a very good submissive most of the time, even though I did like it and I tried, but still. He gave it to me because of that, because I was. I was his, and he knew that. It wasn't just that he'd given me the choker, but that I gave him myself, too. I...

  This woman had a choker that looked remarkably similar to mine. Did she have a single word burned into the leather on the inside, pressing against the hollow of her throat, too? Did it say the same thing as mine, or something else?

  I stared at her harshly, refusing to accept or admit that maybe she did, maybe I wasn't the only one.

  "Elle," Lucent said. "This is Miss Tanner."

  Elle cocked her head to the side. "Mistress?"

  Lucent sighed and shook his head, but if she saw it, she pretended to ignore him.

  "Elle," he said. "Enough. How many times do I have to tell you? That's over. It's done with."

  "What's over?" I snapped. "What are you talking about?"

  Before Lucent could say anything, Elle chimed in, giddy. "I'm Master Storme's submissive," she said.

  I fainted. Or I wanted to. I wish I could have. Unfortunately I didn't. Instead, I just got really really mad. "What!" I shouted. "What the hell, Lucent? What's going on here?"

  Elle shied away from me, returning to her knees. This time she looked to me instead of Lucent. "Sorry Mistress Tanner. I—I—I thought you must have known. Because Master Storme, of course he would tell you. It's been a long time. Oh. Oh. Lucent. Sorry. That's it. Lucent. I know you said things are over between us but I thought, I... this... I thought maybe..."

  "Stop," Lucent said. "Elle, stop. No. Elise, I can explain. Please. Elle was my submissive, but that was a long time ago. We were never in a serious relationship. It's not the same as—"

  Not the same as what? Was I supposed to care about that? Oh, not the same, except she's got a choker just like the one Lucent gave me. And so, oh, I really had to wonder if he just gave those to everyone? Yes, perhaps Lucent said he and Elle weren't ever serious, but I didn't know why we were here if that was the case. Even if they were serious, I still didn't know why we were here. Maybe he didn't believe it, but he'd basically just brought me to his ex-girlfriend's place, hadn't he?

  It really all boiled down to: Why were we here?

  I couldn't think of a single good reason. Not one.

  And, so, I slapped him. Hard. My palm hit his cheek, echoing through the foyer of the apartment building. I didn't say anything to him, I just seethed. I didn't want to slap the pretty little tramp on the floor, because she hadn't really done much except be a pretty little tramp. That was crime enough in my mind, though. Crime enough not to be nice to her, at least.

  I stomped past her, pushing her to the side with my body. She scrambled away, whimpering.

  Good. I didn't even know if she was actually whimpering. I thought she was faking it. Yes, well, it was just a game, now wasn't it? How much of a game? What sorts of games did Lucent like to play with her?

  I knew. I probably knew all of them, because he must have played them with me, too.

  I wanted to love him. I wanted to just ignore all of this and leave. I did leave. I left them. While they stood in the front hallway of Elle's apartment, watching me walk away, I stomped through the house, my heels clicking on the tiled floor, looking for somewhere else to go. Anywhere else. I needed to think. I needed time. I should have gone the other way. I should have left the way I came in, but I didn't think about it until I'd walked away. I needed to get away more than anything.


  I didn't know what I needed.

  I needed Lucent.

  I didn't know how I could have him, though. I didn't know why he kept hurting me like this. What did I do wrong?

  ...

  This apartment was completely foreign to me in more ways than one. The decorations were strange, first off. Parts of it looked very domineering and cold, while other parts looked nice and warm. Nothing to do with the actual temperature, no, but...

  I found dark, Gothic-style paintings hanging up in the hallway of one room, with curtains on the walls to accentuate the style. Then I passed by the kitchen, which looked cozy and familiar. One hallway led to a giant dining room, which had another hallway leading away from it. Both hallways had doors to rooms scattered here and there along them, going to somewhere or other. Some doors were closed, while others were cracked open slightly and darkened on the inside. A few rooms had lights on, but they didn't look too out of the ordinary.

  The layout confused me, though. A hallway went to a room went to a hallway, to a room, and another hallway. Not straight through, though, no. They formed a circle of sorts; or probably more likely a square. Which, I thought, begged the question of what was in the middle? I decided to find out, because I didn't want to keep walking in circles. I wanted to find somewhere to stop and stay and think and wait. Perhaps to simmer, but I didn't really want to simmer.

  I wanted to be happy. Again. With Lucent. Maybe. I wanted more than what I had right now.

  By my random calculations, I should take the next door on the right, which might bring me to the center of this strange apartment. It was really big, actually. Not as big as Lucent's place, but much bigger than mine. Did Elle live alone, or...?

  Did Lucent ever visit her here, too? The thought made me seethe.

  The door on the right was closed, but I opened it easily enough. The lights were off, but I found a switch to the left of the door and flicked it on. The lights blinked, then flared to life, illuminating the room. A bed sat off to one side, with a dresser near it, and then another door opposite the one I came in. I didn't want to look at the bed or the dresser, so I kept going in, heading to the other door.

  I opened that one, but this time the lights were already on.

  This was... a very strange room. I didn't quite know what to make of it, and if someone asked I'd be hardpressed to describe its contents, too.

  There were more doors here. One on each wall, actually. I wondered if they all led to small bedrooms like the one I'd come through. Possibly, but each door was closed, so I couldn't say for sure. None of that mattered right now.

  What mattered were the things in the room. Things might be a generous word for what I found.

  All sorts of assorted devices hung on the walls, filling every conceivable space, sort of. Side to side, different shapes and sizes, odd implements dangled from hooks, or sat on shelves, or occasionally they just lay there, leaning. On one end of the room beside one of the doors sat a large cross-shaped object, with two leather shackles near the base and two more on each arm of the cross. The center of the room contained a plush bed with dark red satin sheets. A closed trunk sat opposite the cross, too.

  All in all, it looked very similar to some sort of torture room.

  I recognized some of the things hanging on the walls, but not all of them. Whips, riding crops, paddles. More than one, too; many in different shapes and sizes. A few ball gags... and were those butt plugs? Huh. They started small, then went larger than I thought was necessary. I wasn't altogether interested in that sort of thing.

  I walked towards the chest and tried to open it, but a lock on the front kept my curiosity at bay. Instead, I moved to the bed and touched the soft sheets, then I went to the cross. I grabbed one of the shackles on the right arm and pulled. The leather felt soft and supple between my fingers, but comfort belied strength and it stayed firmly in place when I tugged at it. Strong, I thought.

  I'd seen this, I realized. A little different in its construction, and not nearly as nice, but sometimes at Sam's club, Carousel, during BDSM showings, people used them. A dominant and his submissive would go up on stage and he'd shackle her onto the cross, then perform a scene with her, showing her off to the crowd.

  I briefly remembered the one and only scene I'd performed there. It wasn't with Lucent, oh no, not at all. It was a mistake, and a terrible accident. That was before I knew him as well and before I understood him more. I wanted to make him jealous; or partly so. I also wanted to show him that I could handle his BDSM things.

  That's what I thought I was doing, at least. Except, no, I wasn't. Instead I was playing a part in some twisted and sick game that Cole Dyerhaven came up with. He wasn't into BDSM, he was into abuse and hurting people. I wanted to prove myself to Lucent, but all I'd ended up doing was proving myself a fool and an idiot. The thought made me ill.

  And I was going to write about that, wasn't I? Yes, I supposed so. I'd started writing about Lucent and I, but unfortunately Cole was a part of our story, too. What should I even bother writing about him?

  ...

  He leered down at me and brushed aside his dark hair. "Reveal yourself to me," he said. "Open your coat."

  "I'd rather wait until we're inside," I said. "It's cold out here and someone might see me and..."

  He glared down at me. Why? "If you're not willing to submit to me, I must be wasting my time."

  "What?" I stammered. It hurt. It didn't hurt because of this person saying it to me, Cole, some random man I'd spoken with a handful of times through email. It hurt because it sounded similar to what Lucent had said the other day.

  You can't accept what I need, nor what I want. You act like this is some game, Miss Tanner, and you wait here, thinking that I'll treat you like a poor, homeless kitten and take you in, except I don't want that. I want a slave. I want you to bow to my every whim and ignore every possible concept of pleasuring yourself so that you can perfectly pleasure me. I require submission and you offer me defiance instead?

  Dejected, feeling so lost and hopeless, realizing that Lucent wasn't the only one who found me a waste of time, I slumped forward. I stared at the ground, pathetic and alone.

  I could do this, though. I didn't need to defy everyone, did I? I didn't necessarily want to. I was just curious. I... I wanted Lucent to understand and accept me, and...

  Slowly, I unbuttoned my coat and opened it. Cole ogled me openly, admiring my outfit.

  ...

  I couldn't write it down on my computer, so I did it mentally, remembering every piece of it.

  It hurt. I didn't want to remember that. Cole wanted me to reveal myself to him? When I first met him, I thought he knew about BDSM and how to help me with it, so I could get closer to Lucent. When he told me to buy a fake leather skirt that hugged at my ass and my thighs, along with fishnet stockings, and black heels, I just sort of went along with it. I didn't know anything about domination or submission then except for the small few things Lucent and I had done together.

  I wore the matching tube top that showed my midriff, just like Cole asked. I looked like some submissive slut, just waiting to be fucked. I looked weak and helpless. At the time I thought that's what submission was about, that submitting to someone was about making yourself as pitiful as possible.

  That wasn't what it was about, though. I still didn't fully understand everything, but there was strength in submission, too. Letting Lucent spank me or tie me up or dominate me wasn't a sign of weakness, I let Lucent do those things, because I trusted him. I allowed him to control me, because I was in command of myself and only I could tell someone what they could or couldn't do to me.

  Yes, true, once I accepted that, he was quite good at using his understanding of the situation to play Master to my attempt at submission, but it was only when I accepted him in that role that he would ever do it.

  It was different. Lucent asked, and he offered. Cole took, and he refused anything to the contrary. It was possible they did slightly similar thi
ngs, or at least the act of them, but their completely opposite mindsets and thought processes guiding their actions made an entire world of difference.

  Or that's what I thought before. I still thought it somewhat, but I wasn't entirely sure if I could trust Lucent now. I didn't know what he was doing, or why he was doing it. I didn't know if he brought me here to hurt me, or because he thought he could trust me, too. I didn't know who Elle was or why she had some torture dungeon BDSM lair in the middle of her house. I didn't even know why her apartment was so peculiar. It struck me as extremely odd that some submissive woman should have something this extravagant.

  I was kind of a submissive woman and I didn't have anything near as extravagant as this. Did I want it? Probably not, because the entire place confused me. I liked the small apartment I shared with Vanessa, and I liked the fact that it only had a few rooms. How many rooms did someone need, really? A bedroom, a bathroom, a kitchen, and a living room. Maybe a dining room, but just a nice table set off to the side in the living room worked well enough for me.

  Lucent had a lot of rooms in his apartment, too, and for the life of me I couldn't figure out why. More than half of them were empty and unused most of the time, so what was the point?

  I realized something suddenly. This room was unused, too, wasn't it? It looked it. No one came here often, if I had to guess. The paddles and the cross and the other BDSM implements looked well taken care of, though. Someone came in here to clean, at least, even if they didn't do much else. I didn't know for sure if they didn't do much else, but it was just a hunch I had. Everything looked too orderly, and rooms that were used too often never looked that way.

  Mainly, I thought this way, because I thought I could understand Elle to some degree. If Lucent left me, like he must have left her, I doubted I'd want anyone else for a long long time. Though, when had he left her? Did he ever actually leave her?

  I shouldn't ask myself those questions. Questions like that only led to pain and heartache.

  I sat on the edge of the bed, then gave in and flopped onto it. Back down, face up, I stared at the ceiling.