“No. He has school and other activities he’s missed this week.”
“Are you okay with him leaving?”
“I have people back home to look after him. And I’m going there next week so yeah, I’m fine.”
He gets up and takes his suit jacket from the study, still talking to me, albeit louder this time.
“We have lunch booked in a couple of hours. Would you like to join us?”
“It is only going to be you and Max?”
“Yes. Me and Max. Oh, and Quinn.” He shows his face in the kitchen again.
“I’m not sure, Alexander.”
“Well, do you have any other plans?”
“No. Not until after three o’clock.”
“Then come. It’s a chance for you to talk to him. It might not go according to our plan but we won’t know unless you come.”
“What time are you meeting them?”
“Twelve thirty.”
I get up and take the cups from the table, contemplating in my head if that’s a good decision. I knew it would take baby steps at the beginning but I also knew it would never be pleasant. So what am I afraid of then?
“Okay.” I turn around with determination. “I’ll come, but if it doesn’t work out, I’ll just think of something and go. Okay? Don’t make me sit through the lunch feeling bad.”
“Of course.” He smiles.
“Where should I meet you?”
“Wyndham Grand Hotel in Chelsea Harbour.”
“Wasn’t that the place where you last saw Jack, the guy who gave you the box?”
“Yes. But he’s not there anymore. And the place is convenient. They serve a mean steak, too.”
“Okay. I’ll be on time.” I turn to finish the cups in the sink and I feel him behind me, leaning over and kissing me on the cheek.
“I love you, Amelia Jones. I don’t think I can say it enough times.” He wraps his arms around my body and I smile.
“I love you too, Alexander.”
He gives me another, firmer kiss and mumbles over my lips. “I’ve got to go.”
“Sure. See you in a short while.”
“Don’t be late,” he says and he’s out of my house.
~
At exactly twelve thirty in the afternoon a taxi drops me off in front of the Wyndham Grand Hotel in Chelsea Harbour. There isn’t anyone to greet me outside, like the last time, and as I go inside I notice the porter standing by the door, nodding at me. I smile courteously and, too conscious about what I’m wearing, I pull down my dress. I realized too late that this particular dress got shrunk in the wash. I don’t feel comfortable with above the knee skirts anymore so I pull it down, hoping the material will stretch. This is lunch with his family, not a date at the Hoxton dungeon. Hoxton dungeon. Memories flood back and I smile to myself. I wonder if we’ll ever go there again.
Heading for the restaurant, I know the way from the last time we were here. I go through the long corridor and enter the secluded, private area at the back, overlooking the river Thames. However, this time, someone else is in here. Another couple enjoying the views. Why did I think we’d have lunch at this table? I apologize profusely, all reddened, and step away, behind the panel and into the main floor of the restaurant.
“Amelia!” I hear someone shouting my name and I turn around; on the other side of the restaurant, next to the wall, Alexander is sitting at a table set for four people. I smile, relieved, and wave. Thank god, I’m saved from further embarrassment.
As I swerve around the tables, heading in his direction he watches me with a slight smirk. His head is cocked, and I think he’s looking at my legs, I’m not sure. By the time I reach him, he clearly has a salacious look on his face.
“I’m glad you could make it.” Standing up, he places his hand on my lower back and kisses me on the cheek. I try to move away but his hand stays put while he inhales my hair.
“Alexander!” I say in a hushed tone.
“I can’t help it.” I’m let go and he sits down. “I just love how you look. Tight, professional dress, red lips, very pretty face, your hair… Oh, how I love your hair! Neatly tied but completely untamed…” he stares at me with his all familiar charge, licking his lips while I sit down next to him. “Seeing you like this...oh, you have no idea...”
“Please.” A whisper leaves my lips. He knows the effect he has on me.
“I know how it feels for you, too.” He swaddles me in his brazen charge. “The desire, the flame,” he comes near me and leans closer, “That just about now ignites between your legs.” He blows in my ear and all of a sudden, there isn’t enough air around me. I feel the hair prickle on my body.
“Why are you doing this? Your son will be here any minute.” I can barely breathe.
“Relax, Amelia, they’re running late. Besides, you were missing from work these past two days and you know how much I love to make you squirm in public.”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
“Yes, you do make me squirm, I agree. But we were fucking only a few hours ago.”
“Who says anything about fucking?”
“Your games always end with fucking.”
“Oh, I know many games, Amelia. Some without fucking at all.” he smirks. “Those games you’ll feel deep in your mind for days after.” He places his hand on my bare knee, under the table, and squeezes it. “Tell me. Have I made you think of fucking, yet?” and then he glides his hand very slowly, under my dress, towards my eager than life pussy. I bite my lip to stop myself from panting out loud.
“Yes, I know I have,” he smirks dominantly. “I love you when you are completely at my will.”
“Okay, Alexander, you made your point. Now please, stop. I’m wet and I’m suddenly not so hungry. All thanks to you.” My chest rises with each breath I take as if I’m flying already. Dammit, my pebbled nipples chafing in my bra are not helping either.
“Good. Let's see what we want to order, shall we?” he passes me the menu.
“Alexander,” I take a deep breath. “If I’m as horny as I am now when they come, I’ll go. And you won’t be able to stop me.” He’s made me ache right there, in the apex between my thighs, where every feeling derives from.
“Amelia, I wanted you to feel me in your mind. And you have. Now, let’s look at the menu.”
“Dad!” Maximilian exclaims from afar and surprises us. Me. Other people turn to see who he is calling after.
“Over here!” Composed, Alexander waves at him and pulls out a chair, as if nothing was happening between us. “You made it!”
“Yes.” His eyes land on me and immediately, his face drops. “Oh.”
“Hello, Mr. Reeves, sorry we’re late.” Quinn follows close behind and greets us.
“No problem, Quinn, I had Amelia here to keep me company.”
I look at Quinn and smile. I know my face is red. Alexander still has his hand on my knee and it’s driving me crazy.
“Miss. Jones.”
“Hi, Quinn. Hello, Max.”
Max nods faintly and sits down, completely closing off. I feel uncomfortable and to top it all, Alexander squeezes my leg more. Not sure if it’s in support or arousal. Argh!
Today is his last day before Max goes back and I don’t want to be someone who stands in the way of them having a good time. Plus, he’s made me so horny that I doubt I’ll be able to talk properly.
“Right, now that they’re here, I can go,” I say and get up, grabbing my bag from the table.
“What?” I caught Alexander unprepared. “No, you’re not.”
“Alexander, I told you I’m busy. I only came here for a short while since I was in the neighbourhood.”
He gives me a long, cold stare, and I know what he’s trying to do. I'm one step ahead though; I look away, at Max.
“Have a safe journey tomorrow, Max. Perhaps next time we can meet properly.”
I smile and leave.
Alexander makes a screeching sound with his chair as he stan
ds up.
“Amelia.” His voice couldn’t be any deeper.
I turn sideways, look down, and listen. He may have something to say since he made such a point of calling my name so loud.
“Let me see you to the door.”
“Sure.”
I continue walking but he catches up with me and places his palm on my lower back. Then, before I’m aware of what he’s up to, he speeds up a step ahead of me; it feels as if he is almost rushing me out. We walk past the restaurant’s reception desk, at the very end of the corridor and just as the hotel’s foyer comes before us, he opens one of the side doors to his left and ushers me in.
“Wh-what? What are you doing, Alexander?”
In haste he pushes me back against the wall of what’s probably a broom closet, with my cheek flat on it and wraps my body with his, pressing firmly over mine.
“Alexander..don’t be stupid...” I whisper.
“I’m hard, Amelia,” he says into my ear.
And I’m wet. But I know anything I say or do will be held against me in his court of sexual pleasure. And I’m not ready to get it right now.
“Do you want to see what a mind fuck feels like?” he whispers in my ear and grinds his hips into me, his hard cock rubbing on my butt cheeks. A quiet moan escapes my lips.
“Mm, yes. I know, pet.” He leans down and gently slaps my thighs from the inside. “Open your legs for me.” I don’t move; in fact, my knees close, gluing my thighs together.
“Ha-ha!” His confident smirk rips my silent mutiny into shreds. “Okay, then.”
He scrunches up my dress, taking it up and above my bottom with both of his hands and then his fingers hook in the elastic band of my panties, sliding them down just as fast to the middle of my thighs.
“Now, don’t move.”
My face is flat on the wall and my bottom bare. He’s not pressing my body anymore with his, but still, he’s very near. The moment I feel the breeze over my bare ass his hand slaps me hard in an upward motion. Oh god! And, at least, five-six consecutive times more. Immediately, I’m beamed to the land of desire with a colossal flash-burn ensuing in my loins, pulling all my nerve synapses, waiting, anticipating something. And my bottom perks up.
“Mhm.. good?”
I close my eyes and breathe. Pant, more like. My voice is gone; even though I wanted to say something, I can’t. I’m up there. In space.
He strokes my bare behind while I’m praying for him to go further, but he smacks me yet again on my reddened skin. A moan escapes my lips again.
“A small whimper is enough, pet.”
He pulls my shoulder to him, turning me around with my back to the wall. I lean on it and breathe, looking at him wantonly, my nostrils flare, and I try to open my knees but my panties stop me. They are staying firmly half way down my thighs.
His blue eyes smile at me, as if what I need is near, and in a move I don’t anticipate he swings with his hand, landing it perfectly over my pussy. A sharp smack pierces my ears. It scorches my folds, setting alight my clit and at the same time…. Fuck! Did that feel good? It’s like hot Tabasco sauce spilled over my folds. And, again, the same thing, a fierce slap except...except this time, I guide the flames. I guide them into my light. My hips sway my pubic bone up, my legs are struggling to part, damn those panties, but they’re parted enough for him to gain access where needed and, as he continues each consecutive slap, it’s the best thing I’ve felt in my life; stinging, unrefined yet with that thin thread of gratification when his hand merges with my clit and pounds my body with another smack.
“You like this? Hm?”
I’m panting and moaning quietly. Why am I encouraging him? I don’t know, but I’m waiting; anticipating his hand on me again and again.
The slaps feel wet, my juices have surged out of my honey pot, defying the law of reason and there are no panties to keep them at bay. His hand is wet and it feels good, I think I’m almost there. Feeling the zingy pain, but focusing on my ecstasy, appreciating each slap, a few more and I’ll reach my peak, I know.
“One last time, Amelia.” he pants, too. “Brace yourself.”
I’m waiting, anticipating the fire of a hundred sparklers smoldering and all I want is for it to be aimed at my nub. In fact, I’m there, on the precipice of my orgasm, my nub just a portal to heaven. I lift my hips, my pubic bone, waiting for my next round. I want it, and he knows; my sanity disperses into my body, the adrenaline makes me shiver and my breathing is deeper, heavier. But, why? Why isn’t it coming? I feel his hand on my thigh, wiping my cum off of his fingers.
“Do you feel me now?” he whispers. “In your mind?”
He’s horny as hell; his body sweating in the enclosed space, his cock engorged and protruding through his pants but at the same time he radiates so much control, it’s riveting.
I’m breathless, wet, craving a slap and definitely a fuck. Leaning on the wall, I feel the stickiness between my legs, the cool air gives me the notion of their exact whereabouts; I pat my clammy pussy and all I want to do is to rub myself, feel where his hand has been.
“Yes! I do….” I don’t want the spanking to end. It’s making me heady.
But he’s already pulling my panties up and my dress down. Having straightened up himself, pushed down his hard cock, and raked his hand through his hair few times, he takes a deep breath and reaches for the door knob.
“Love you, pet.” he smiles.
Wh-what? No! I’m frantically trying to push aside the destitute feelings inside of me and focus on the door and him opening it.
“Fuck!” I grumble under my breath. I know now is not the time to scream for my fuck. He needs to go back. I take a deep breath and I close my eyes to root myself before sighing.
“You devious, devious man.”
~
What else is there for me to do until three o’clock, when I pick up Michael and Jason from school? Of course, I do the laundry, wash up, make dinner, and tidy their bedrooms. So many things one can do when one is not at work.
When Mrs. Saunders texts me she’ll be late tonight I decide to structure our afternoon together better.
After school, the boys and I are at the table in the kitchen, enjoying a light snack. That’s when I tell them about my special game. The one I found on the internet, after spending an hour in front of my laptop. The objective of the game is to create an opportunity for them, for us, to express our feelings. I’m up for playing anything they want after, as long as they get to play my game first.
They finish with their food and we all go into the study. On the floor I left a large sheet of white paper with some markers around it.
“Right, boys, here’s my game. Let’s play it out and then we’ll play whatever you want. Deal?”
“Sure. What have you got for us?”
“My game is called Boat-Storm-Lighthouse.” They look at me confused while crossing their legs and sitting comfortably on the floor.
“You each have to fill the large paper with one drawing of a boat, a storm, and a lighthouse. And you must complete the task silently.”
“Oh! Okay.” Jason is excited. I look at Michael and he just smiles and picks up the marker. They both love to draw and that’s the beauty of it, I think. I’m hoping the drawing will provide a glimpse into their inner world and help me see better where they stand emotionally.
In a few moments they both have drawn what I asked them to and are now looking at me impatiently.
“Okay, now I want you, separately, to think about what is happening in your drawing. Think about before, during, and after the storm.”
Jason is staring at his paper seriously and Michael, as if he already knows what’s happening, just looks at me. He’s ready.
“I’ll now ask you questions and I hope you’ll answer them as honestly as possible.” I look at them while I flip the pages from my print outs.
“Jason, I’ll start with you. What do you think it would have been like to be in the boat with your family duri
ng the storm?”
“Um, who is my family? You and Michael?”
“What do you think?”
“Do I count mom and dad in it?”
“Jason, your mother is gone to a better place. So we’re not going to count her. And your father is still part of this family. You may end up living with me, but he’ll still be your dad.”
“Well, if I was in the boat with the four of us, there would have been a bigger storm coming. A hurricane, maybe.”
“Why is that?”
“Because…well, because dad’s been very violent lately and I just don’t understand it. Just like the hurricanes. Why do they happen? All of a sudden, you have storms that ruin people’s lives.”
“Who would have been most helpful to you during the storm?” I continue.
“Michael. I can always count on him.”
“Why did you choose Michael over me or your father?”
“Because lately dad is not here and, well, you are… Um, I’m sorry, but please don’t get upset. Sometimes I see you as the enemy.”
“Enemy?” I’m shocked but I try not to show it. “Why is that, Jason?”
“Because of Max’s father. If you’re with him it means you’re against us.”
“Who says that?”
“No one.”
“Then, where did that come from?”
“Nowhere. It just is.”
“Okay.” I must try a different approach. “Tell me, have I changed at all in your eyes lately?”
“Yes.”
“How so?”
“You’re fun. You never used to play with us and now… now you not only play but you talk to us. No, you listen to us.”
“And before?”
“Before you were just, there. Talking, but kind of empty.”
“Empty? How can I talk empty?”
“I don’t know how to explain it. Before you were there, but not fun. And now, now you’re here, with us, talking and I don’t know, alive.”
“Alive. So would you say you like me better now than before?”
“Um, yes.”
“Now, if I tell you that part of me being ‘alive’, your words not mine, is something to do with Max's father, would you believe me?”
The Collar of Sacrifice Page 10