by Pamela Ann
There was dread, hoping Hugo wouldn’t be offended that I didn’t heed his words when he had told me he didn’t want another person between us whilst we were together for this short time, but I didn’t want him to feel as if I wasn’t ready to share a little bit of his life and frowned upon lifestyle. Little did he know that, even though I didn’t like the very thought of it, I had also accepted it. I loved him even though he sought other women in bed with him.
To me, this was my way of letting him know that it was okay, that I loved him inside and out, that I didn’t judge him, that my love for him knew no bounds. I simply wanted him, him and the man he was. I didn’t want him any other way. So, yes, if this was part of who he was, so be it.
Grappling the ends of my robe, I was contemplating if I should take it off when I saw Hugo’s hands grip the side of her hips, suspending her from moving. A sharp intake of breath alarmed him that I was around, and when he cocked his head to the side and our eyes connected for the first time, I knew he wasn’t pleased. In fact, I could daresay he was livid.
“Go back to your room, Arianne!” he barked at her as he cast a dark gaze at her, evoking no complaint from his lover as she merely made a humbling nod and followed through with his commands. She didn’t even dare throw me a look as she scrambled to get out of the room.
In a heartbeat, we were left to our devices.
Still remaining composed in my ever-present position, I could barely meet the austere gaze he was directing at me. Words of excuses formed into mind, but I was left with nothing to formulate into sound.
“A simple request, Isobel, and even that you dare defy!” he thundered out vehemently, his eyes lit up with rage and so much more.
Even if I apologized, I knew he wouldn’t warm to it. I had crossed the line and disobeyed. His eyes danced with emotions running through him, all except amusement.
“I thought…” I trailed off as my sight caught the ever-standing attraction that was his aroused pole.
“You thought what?” he bellowed, shameless of his nude state.
Biting my lip, I was embarrassed to be questioned about my motives. I knew I was trying too hard in wanting to be the best for him, and I had miserably failed at it.
Looking away from the fervid intensity of his gaze, I voiced out an apology. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you…” Guilt washed over me as I gradually started to move, believing I would be better off going home than facing how incensed he was with me. “Please forgive me…”
“And where in God’s name do you think you’re going, Isobel?” he roared so loudly it echoed throughout the place.
Before I knew it, he was on his feet, darting towards me and hastily flipping me over to my stomach. I barely had the time to think or process what was going on before I felt him cover my body with his, and his protruding erection sat below my ass, stretching the silk robe to its limits. I felt his hot breath in my ear, heavily panting, hissing, “You,” he growled with intensity. “You need to be taught a lesson!”
With the use of his hips, he shifted so his eager length pushed the ends of my robe up, giving him free reign to my intimate bits. I could feel the mushroomed tip of his dick rubbing between the rift of my bottom, enticing, anticipating delivering its punishment on my body.
As thrilling and electrifying as he felt, there was a little fear that nagged behind it, as if I wasn’t sure what I was in for, knowing when Hugo was in this mercurial mood, nothing was predictable. I could feel moisture trickle, permeating from my pussy, enthralled by the beautiful feel of him taking charge over my helpless body.
“Don’t get too excited, Isobel. I should have taken what was mine in the first place, but I was acting too nice, wanting to accommodate you because you stirred my cock in ways not a lot of women could.” There was a warning blatantly laced in his words as he slid his length through my folds, moistening his cock. I somehow knew what was coming. Well, I thought I did, up until I felt his cock slightly probe into my other hole—the virgin passage.
As aroused as I was, I felt my fingers dig into the sheets, preparing for the inevitable. “Ahh!” A muffled gasp came out of my lips when his head punctured past my hole, stretching, straining from its impatient invasion.
“Breathe, ma belle.” The gentle sound of his voice calmed me a little. “Breathe me in. Feel your body welcome me in. Let me dwell inside you. Make me worship you, mon bel amant.” There were no trace of anger in his voice. It was as if he and I had entered another dimension. Gone was the anger and in came passion, unadulterated appetite for raw lust.
Consumed with unparalleled lust for him, I slowly took him in, letting my body relax as he steadily took what was rightfully his.
His cock was massive—I had known it all along—but taking him from behind, it felt monstrous, stretching me to no end, and I knew he was merely halfway inside.
“Isobel…” he fiercely hissed out before I felt his lips nip the side of my neck, driving my pussy to its endless supply of wetness as he gently thrust more deeply inside my ass.
I love you. The words rang in my head as I took his onslaught that was mixed with pleasure and tinged with pain. It was an unfamiliar experience, and I wasn’t sure how to react to it. From what I could tell, Hugo loved every moment of it, and in a lot of ways, that was all I needed to know. I loved him and I owed him too much. If pleasure was the only way to pay him back for all that he had done for me, I had no qualms in giving in to whatever he wished.
The conflicting sensations of pleasure and pain experienced by my body became forgotten when I felt him pick up his tempo as he started speaking to me in French. I knew he was readying to orgasm, but I hadn’t expected to feel as if I was drowning with profound pride and affection when I felt him unleash his hot seed inside me, grunting my name as he throbbed in me.
“Tu es à moi,” he breathlessly said. “Tu es à moi.”
You’re mine…
Yes, without a shed of doubt, I was truly his.
Chapter 23
Isobel
After an hour of slow lovemaking with Hugo, I left the bed with him sleeping and went into the bathroom to clean up. Before doing so, something prompted me to check my phone. I was surprised to find I had tons of missed calls from everyone. Most of all, I was surprised to find my brother’s name in the list, because he didn’t call me unless it was important or it was an emergency. Given how our father had been lately, I had a sinking feeling it would be latter.
This wasn’t a good sign. No, not at all.
“It’s Yannis. Where are you? I’ve been calling your phone for days. Anyway, well, there’s an emergency. I’m calling because Mom … Mom’s in the hospital with a broken spine, and she’s in a critical condition. Call me when you can, will you? Bye.”
I felt myself shiver after listening to his voicemail. Our mother was in the hospital with a broken spine. Different year, different incident, but as the time had passed, it had gotten worse. What was next? Him putting her directly in the coffin? I wouldn’t put it past my despicable father.
Just as expected, shame and guilt immediately sunk in, overwhelming and frightening me once more. This was all my fault. I knew blaming myself wouldn’t undo anything, but I felt as if I had given him another reason to unleash his contempt on my mother, the weak soul who wouldn’t raise a hand to anyone to save herself.
Her love had blinded her. It simply drained her of her identity. Everything she was now had been shaped to conform and please her husband, my monster of a father. Growing up, I couldn’t even fathom how often I had wished she would grow a backbone and fight him tooth and nail, but she never did, and I realized later on that she never would. It was a maddening thought, yet she was indubitably loyal to him. God knew Constantin Callas did not deserve an ounce of loyalty, most especially coming from his family.
My father did this to teach me a lesson. Had I listened to him and simply used the money Hugo had given me to pay off what I was sure was an exorbitant amount, maybe this wouldn’t have
happened, or maybe it was inevitable because he would have eventually done it, anyway. Of course, it was too late now to even ponder about the things that could’ve been avoided.
He was an addict who didn’t have the funds to high roll his costly lifestyle and habit. The only way he thought he could keep on with the pretense was to siphon the money through me as his puppet, whoring me to the highest bidder.
Gathering up the courage to function, I came out of the bathroom before joining Hugo in bed. I was surprised he wasn’t sleeping any longer, but seemed to be waiting for me, giving me a look I had never seen before. I supposed my face showed a sign of distress, because he immediately frowned the moment he glanced at my face before holding his arm openly for me to curl up to.
“Isobel?” he gently whispered my name, possibly waiting for me to tell him what was going on.
There was nothing worse than openly speaking about the type of events that were a common occurrence in my childhood. I guessed, as an abused child, it was a quick instinct to instantly feel guarded and not tell a single soul about the kind of hell that had gone on inside my home. Things were different now, though. Not only that, but this was Hugo after all, the very man who had saved me from my father’s controlling tactics and wretched plans. Reminding myself of what Hugo had done for me made me feel safe once more.
Stilling myself, I then took a short pant of breath before glancing at him sideways. I made a face, as if to say that I apologized as to how fucked up and twisted my life was. “I have terrible news. My brother Yannis called and left a troubling message.” Pausing to take a deep breath, I continued, “I’m afraid I have to catch the first flight out to Athens. My mother’s in the hospital.”
“Let me come with you.” His arm tightened around me, as if he needed to protect me from harm’s way.
“I don’t want to impose.” It wasn’t a secret that he had a very hectic schedule. Not only that, but he’d had his fair share of dealing with my family’s problems. He had contributed a great deal to where I was now, and it should suffice. My family’s ordeal was mine and mine alone to carry. There was no need to burden him with it, as well. “Besides, I don’t want to get used to having you around much. It’ll only hurt more…”
He nodded, understanding what I was going through because he was feeling it as much as I. “If you change your mind, I’m a phone call away.”
“Thank you for everything, for being the man you are.” This might mean so little to him, but to me, it meant the world. It meant everything to simply have someone in my life who had changed my world drastically, impacting it on a greater scale on all counts.
I wasn’t sure what tonight had meant, but deep down, I knew we had come into a different level of intimacy. I had never felt more connected to him than I did at this very moment. Maybe it was my overwhelming love that made me see in such a haze, but whatever it was, I longed for it to last. Moreover, as much as I hated the thought of leaving him, I knew my real world awaited my return, and with it came my father and the rest of his wretchedness.
The very thought of him made me feel ill and violent. I had no choice but to face the world I was born in.
His motivation to hurt my mother much more severely than ever before this time around was one I could guess, as the choices weren’t varied and were limited to a few things. He also knew I deeply loved my abused mother, and since she was an easy target to his abhorrent wrath, he had to victimize her to get his point across to me, as if he was teaching me a lesson. My father wasn’t a difficult man to decipher unfortunately.
“Are you going to be safe going home? I can send security with you,” Hugo freely offered, like it was normal in my life to have security shadowing me wherever I went.
It was a touching sentiment, and I was truly grateful for his concern, yet I felt as if I didn’t need any more fuel to enrage my father in regards to Hugo’s money. After all, knowing him, he would use whatever it was to get what he wanted and this—my mother’s hospitalization—could be only the very beginning of his lunacy.
Chapter 24
Isobel
The moment I landed on Greek soil and got a whiff of the heavily familiar air that I had grown up in brought conflicting emotions. As far as I could recall, I couldn’t wait to get away from there, to live somewhere far away from my father’s grudges and the darkness that came with it. Still, there was another side of it—the love for my beautiful country, the pride I had in being Greek. Being born in a background where the blood of the greats ran through my veins, the ancestors of this modern day civilization. It was an honor to be a part of this culture. I had realized I would always feel pride for this country. It was in my DNA. It was embedded in me, in my heart, in my soul.
The shame that came with it wasn’t because of this. It was because of my father and how he tainted my once unspoiled perception of my love for this beloved city and everything and everyone in it, including my family.
“Where is he?” I shrilled the moment I saw how badly damaged my mother was. Incensed didn’t even come close to describing how I was at that very instant.
Both her eyes were black and blue. She had swollen, cut up lips; a gnashed forehead and forearms; and a bruised rib along with her broken back. This was literally the sum up of the physical altercation. Add on the emotional and mental toll of this incident, and the list was endless.
My hands were shaking as I tried to pull myself together and not jump on the urge to hunt down my lowlife of a father and kill him with my bare hands.
My chest felt full, constricted as I reached out to hold her cold hand, wondering why our blasted fates never seemed to ease. In fact, it seemed as if it had gotten worse each year that passed.
“Mamá … lypámai…” I’m sorry.
“I know this is the wrong time to say it, but I have to fly out tomorrow and get back to school. Do you think you can ask Ya-ya to make sure Mamá will be safe?” He was so young and about to hit the peak of his teenage years, yet he looked like a boy turning into a man who had seen too many things. I hated the fact that he was going through the same emotional turmoil I’d had to live through. It was just a fortunate thing he didn’t live here in Athens with my parents like I had during his age.
With a deep, heavy sigh, I gazed back at my mother’s pale pallor, feeling wretched all over again before addressing Yannis’s worry. “I’m staying here. I’m not going anywhere else.”
“He’s going to come here. You know he will, and we both know that won’t be a good thing.” Yannis glanced at me as if he didn’t trust me to be here alone. “He’s dangerous, Iso. God knows what he’ll try next.”
God did know, but it didn’t seem like he was doing anything to prevent it from happening. It wasn’t as though I didn’t believe in God—I did—but this had gone too far. If my mother couldn’t save herself from doom nor could we entice her to run away and divorce him, then who the fuck would? It didn’t seem that our society cared all that much, either.
It felt as if they knew and saw what was going on and simply decided to turn a blind eye because it wasn’t their business. This was the disadvantage in our “modern” society. Men were still dubbed as the righteous ones, and the women were merely an accessory, a vessel to carry their sons and daughters, nothing more.
Feeling inferior in one’s own country wasn’t the greatest feeling to go through. I supposed my case was just a little more severe, bringing that in the forefront of my mind since it was my mother who was the victim, endlessly suffering her husband’s ill treatment.
Had this happened back in England, things would have definitely been different. Maybe Mamá would not be so meek and subdued to him. Nevertheless, the time would come when the devil would collect his debt, and I would be one of those folks cheering on, desperately wanting him to feel a fraction of what he had done to us—his children and wife.
For the duration of the day, we stayed close to our mother. Since one person was only allowed to sleep in the room with her, Yannis had to unfortunat
ely go home and rest. On the third night, though, he insisted I should go home to shower and get some proper shuteye. Luckily, father still wasn’t around, so it was safe for us to go home for the night.
Our mother was going in and out of consciousness because of her medication making her groggy and continually sleepy.
I did wonder with each day that passed when I would see my rotten father, though I wouldn’t be terrified of him any longer when he did appear. I was sure rumors about me being home had already reached his ear. Maybe he was biding time until he confronted me or was prepping for a bigger show to teach me a hard lesson, as he would crassly put it. Alas, it was as if he had people watch our every move, because I didn’t have to wonder for long.
It was nine in the evening, and Yannis and I had just finished sharing a simple dinner consisting of avgolemono and pastichio. Yannis had excused himself to shower while I volunteered to wash the dishes and clean up when I felt his lurid presence behind me.
Stilling, I took a deep breath, counting down the numbers until I knew I had it in me to face him. The moment I spun around to confront him, I instantly felt all of my hidden anger seep out of its secured shell.
I hadn’t seen my father since I had left Athens during the time when I was still living with Hugo. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but I hadn’t anticipated seeing him looking gaunt, appearing as if he had lost a great amount of weight with his eyes prominently catching your attention because they were popping out of their sockets. What in God’s name had happened to him?
“I’m glad you’ve finally come to your senses. Do you have my money?” he huffed out as if he couldn’t breathe properly.
Frowning at his odd appearance and the bizarre question he had just thrown at me, I felt as if he suctioned out the little pity I had for him the moment I heard him speak about money yet again.
“Excuse me? Did I hear you right? What money are you talking about?”