Black Velvet (The Velvet Rooms Book 1)

by Linnea May

  But today, things will change. Today is when our contract ends.

  Today is also the day I will lose my collar and have it replaced with something else. When he told me that he would have to take the collar away from me, I choked up a little because it felt as if he was telling me he would rip a part of my heart out once we reached day thirty-nine.

  I have to say goodbye to a lot of things today to make room for the new. We’ve already packed up the red fur coat and mailed it back to its owner. I wonder if she ever figured out that I was the one who took it, if she even noticed me at all. It felt wrong to keep the coat, even though I know she has been paid a generous amount as compensation despite never having to go through with her end of the deal. As ugly as it may be, the red fur coat has become special to me, not only because it was the reason for me to end up here, but also because it kept me warm and protected when I needed it most.

  Just like that cold and dark time, the coat is now a part of my past and I no longer need it.

  I’m down in the kitchen standing in front of the French doors, daydreaming as my eyes wander along the landscape outside. I’m no longer confined to the space upstairs. He’s shared his home with me as if it was the most natural thing to do. And in a way, with us, it is.

  He told me that he usually has some staff around the house, but I’ve only met one of them, his house maid Marjory. She’s a sweet, middle-aged lady who’s driving a red sedan, the car I saw driving up to the house the day he left me alone. She had been working for his grandparents before they left for Florida and has been an integral part of Joseph’s life for a very long time, which is why meeting her made me just as nervous as if I was about to meet his mother. She seemed surprised to see me, and it was more than awkward to know that she was in the know about who I was and how I ended up to be in the house. However, she never said anything about it and treated me as if I had entered Joseph’s life like any other girlfriend would.

  “Are you ready?” I hear his voice behind my back.

  I turn around and find him looking as magnificent as always, dressed in his navy blue suit, my favorite on him because it brings out his dark hazel eyes and hugs his masculine frame perfectly. He’s freshly shaved and has his hair gelled and styled to the nines, making me feel underwhelmingly dressed, despite the new Miu Miu dress I’m wearing. It’s a present from him to mark the end of our first thirty-nine days together, a kind of anniversary that no other couple would celebrate.

  “Yes,” I say, but it’s a lie.

  I knew I couldn’t flee from my responsibilities forever, I knew this day would come. But I never felt less ready for anything in my life. I wish I could hide in this strange getaway forever, hugged by his strong arms, feeling the warmth of his body pressed against mine, and his cock throbbing inside me. There’s no place I’d rather be.

  He comes to a halt next to me, brushing a strand of hair back over my shoulder, while his eyes focus on my neck. I swallow hard, preparing myself for something I don’t want to happen.

  “Today marks an end,” he says, as his hands wander to the little heart-shaped lock at the front. “And the beginning of something new.”

  His words are concluded by the clicking sound of the lock as he opens it. I sigh when he slowly removes the collar from around my neck. My hand moves up immediately, touching the unfamiliar emptiness around my throat.

  “I’ll miss it,” I whisper, casting him a sad look.

  He smiles at me.

  “You’re still my pet,” he promises. “But today, we have some things to take care of. Come.”

  He puts the collar aside and takes my hand to lead me outside.

  Chapter 48

  Joseph

  She’s shy about letting me see her apartment when we first get there, and already begins to make excuses about its alleged chaos when we’re still in the car. It’s cute to see her this flustered about showing me a part of her that’s new to me.

  Her hand is visibly shaking when she unlocks the door for us, and she casts me an apologetic smile as she beckons me to follow her inside.

  “Please, remember no one has been here for more than a month, there might be dust and-”

  “Dead plants?” I ask, nodding toward a sad-looking fern on a dresser in her corridor.

  She laughs and shakes her head. “Oh no, that’s been dead for a while.”

  Her place is small, but very homey. I don’t think I’ve ever lived in a place like this, small and simple, but so affectionately decorated that it reflects the character of its inhabitant. I don’t understand why she would make excuses for any sort of mess because she’s clearly a very organized person. Everything matches, everything has its place, even the pen and notebook next to her phone are lined up parallel to the edge of the little table they’re lying on.

  She keeps casting me insecure looks as she leads me through her place, and I hate that she feels the need to excuse any of it or even feels inferior to me. She has no reason to.

  “I love it,” I say, as my eyes rest on a few photos she pinned on the wall in her living room. Most of them don’t show people, but places and landscapes.

  “Oh, that’s… I didn’t have time to remove those,” she hastily says, covering one of the photos that shows her with the guy I assume is her ex-boyfriend.

  I smile at her, gently taking her hand and pulling her close to me.

  “Relax, my pet,” I tell her. “You’re mine now, but we both have a past that we shouldn’t be afraid to share.”

  She huffs. “You’re one to talk.”

  “Touché,” I say, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

  “Do you want something to drink?” she asks. “I could make you a tea or something.”

  I shake my head.

  “I’ll be fine, just do what you came here to do,” I reply. “I’ll wait here and just invade your privacy so I can learn everything about you that there is to learn.” I wink.

  She furrows her eyebrows, but beckons for me to sit on her small couch.

  “Alright, have fun,” she says, before she leaves the room.

  On her way out, I can see her checking the answering machine on her phone. She flips through the messages without listening to them, looking distraught.

  “Are you okay?” I ask.

  She sighs, shaking her head.

  “Yes, fine,” she says without looking at me. “It’s just… him.”

  “He must have been worried, too,” I say, assuming she’s talking about her ex-boyfriend.

  “I guess so,” she retorts, before disappearing into her bedroom.

  I take a seat, my eyes scanning the room as I try to imagine the life she was leading before I ripped her from it. The kind of woman she was, what her daily routine looked like. It’s obvious that she’s an avid reader. The bookshelf that covers most of the wall to my right is filled to the brim with books of all genres, but her favorites seem to be thrillers and psychological crime fiction. That shouldn’t surprise me.

  She’s a good and timid girl who’s worked hard to keep her life in line, well organized and responsible. But her mind is in a constant struggle, yearning for a breakout from all of this. She’s told me about her dark fantasies and how I - unknowingly - made them come true. The terror she felt was real when I kidnapped her, but it excited her as much as it scared her.

  For every sick person out there with these dark desires and needs, there is someone else who is willing to serve those demands. I found my match in her.

  She has changed clothes when she returns from her bedroom, and is now wearing a black dress, topped with silk tights and a black flower in her ash blonde hair.

  “I’m sorry,” she says. “I just thought this would be more suitable for…”

  She bites her lip and lowers her eyes. I know that this is harder for her than she wants to let on.

  “Don’t worry about it,” I tell her. “I think you’re right. And you look lovely no matter what.”

&nb
sp; “I will change back into the dress you gave me, once we’re… done,” she promises.

  I get up from the couch, placing my hands on her shoulders.

  “Look at me, my pet,” I command her.

  She raises her eyes up to mine, sadness reflected in their gray-blue depths.

  “Don’t ever apologize for yourself,” I say. “Especially for something like this.”

  She nods. “Yes, Master.”

  Our lips meet for a slow and soft kiss, comforting in ways that words could never be. My hand rests below her ear, while my thumb caresses her cheek as our breaths mingle. I don’t break our kiss until I know I can no longer resist the urge to want more. We have things to attend to.

  “Are you ready?” I ask her, and she nods, a sad smile fleeting across her face.

  The drive to the cemetery is long and filled with pensive silence. Liana is sitting next to me with a white French daisy bouquet resting in her lap, as she stares out the window. She takes a deep breath when we pull up to the cemetery and I park the car.

  “Do you want to be by yourself?” I ask her, before she opens the door.

  She looks at me, her face already lined with a sorrow I cannot take away from her.

  “No,” she says after a moment. “Please come with me.”

  “Alright.”

  I walk next to her while we follow the directions she’s been given to find his grave. She’s gripping my hand tightly, while pressing the flowers against her chest with the other.

  “I’ve never had to say goodbye to someone,” she says in barely more than a whisper. “Not like this.”

  “It’s the hardest thing we as people have to endure, if you ask me,” I say. “It’s bad enough to be aware of our own mortality, but to be faced with it when we have to say goodbye to others is even worse.”

  I can feel her eyes on me from the side, but am not ready to return the look.

  “I’m sorry,” she says. “I forgot that you’ve had a much harder parting in your life.”

  I shake my head.

  “It was hard,” I say. “But it’s true what they say about time. It’s the only thing that really can heal all wounds. Even the ones that run as deep as mine.”

  She squeezes my hand in lieu of a reply. We walk a few more steps in silence, not encountering another person, which is probably because of the murky weather. It’s foggy and cold, providing a perfectly gloomy atmosphere in this deserted cemetery.

  “This is it,” she says, as she stops in front of a newer-looking tombstone.

  She freezes in front of it, her lips parted as she lets go of my hand.

  “Professor Miller,” she whispers, and as soon as she says the name, a tear rolls down her pale cheek.

  I want to touch her, hug her, take the pain of grief away from her, but I know I can’t. This is something she will have to overcome herself, and I know she will.

  There are many things I can do for her, though. And I vow to do every single one of them.

  I’m relieved to see her smiling as she goes down on her knees to place the bouquet on the grave.

  “A tombstone that looks like an opened book,” she says, directed toward the grave. “Just plain and simple, with no silly quote. I bet you’re glad they didn’t bother with any of that nonsense.”

  She gets back up on her feet, still smiling.

  “He hated it when people expressed themselves with quotes,” she explains, wiping away her tears as she turns to me. “He always called it lazy.”

  I smile. “Smart man.”

  “He was, very straightforward, and a great mentor,” she tells me. “I’m going to miss him.”

  I wrap my arm around her, pulling her closer, while she finally gets a chance to grieve the man who was more than just a boss to her.

  We stay for a few more minutes, standing mostly in silence. I want to give her all the time she needs, and wait until she asks to leave.

  “Goodbye,” she says as we turn away from the grave.

  Her words are heavy with meaning, addressing not only her former boss but an entire life she leaves behind.

  Then we turn to head back toward the car and the new life that awaits us

  Epilog

  Liana

  “Are you sure this is okay?” I ask, nervously playing with my new dress. “And my hair? You don’t think I should do more with it?”

  Joseph fixes the cuff on his suit and smiles at me through the reflection in the mirror.

  “You look fantastic, Liana,” he says. “Stop worrying so much.”

  “Mhm,” I say, trying to catch my delirious breath.

  I pace up and down the width of the bedroom, trying to think of things I still have to do before we drive to the airport, but there’s nothing left. Nothing needs to be cleaned, baked, prepared. There’s nothing to occupy my busy mind.

  “You are so adorable,” Joseph comments from across the room, now walking over to me. “What are you so worried about?”

  I look up at him. It’s been six months since we’ve come to the end of our arrangement. Six months during which I turned my life around with his help.

  Despite our uninterrupted first thirty-nine days together, I was reluctant to move in with him when he asked me to. I’ve made the mistake of moving too fast before. Luke and I moved in together after only knowing each other for a few weeks, and I swore to myself that I wouldn’t repeat that same mistake.

  Of course, with Joseph things are different. So very different. It was a stubborn certainty that things would fall apart that kept me from agreeing to do the thing that felt truly natural with him. This house had become my home before I was even willing to let it happen. It’s outside the city, the countryside, a place I never thought I’d want to live.

  But things change. I changed. I’ve come to love the calm landscape, the beautiful estate surrounding our mansion, the gardens and the sound of birds replacing the constant rush of traffic that I’m used to. Besides, the city with all its hustle and bustle is not far away.

  Saying goodbye to the apartment that carried so many bad memories of my former relationship was the easiest part of all. I was glad to leave it behind.

  Yet I’ve only officially been living with him for two months now, and I still catch myself calling it his home instead of ours. For some reason, Joseph thought that this would change once we invite two people who’d welcome me into this home just as much as he does.

  His grandparents. The people who raised him and who turned his life around for the better.

  They’re on their way here now, and we are about to leave for Logan Airport to pick them up.

  “I’m just so nervous,” I say, my entire body shaking. “I mean, meeting family, that’s huge. And, it’s you. Your grandparents.”

  He chuckles and places a kiss on my cheek.

  “You say that as if I was someone to be scared of,” he whispers. “Or them.”

  I shake my head.

  “I just want them to like me,” I say, knowing how silly that must sound.

  “They’ll love you,” he promises. “I mean, I do. I never thought I’d deserve to be loved by a woman like you. And I didn’t think I was capable of giving love in return.”

  He pauses, his dark hazel eyes fixating on mine with intent.

  “You proved me wrong,” he adds. “If I can’t resist your charm, how could anyone else, especially my grandparents?”

  He kisses me again, his finger tracing along the sterling silver that adorns my neck.

  I’m wearing my day collar, a subtle silver chain with a ring-shaped decor at the front. It sits rather snugly around my throat, but other than that, it can pass off as just another piece of jewelry. An innocent necklace my loving boyfriend bought for me.

  I was a little heartbroken when he took my collar away on that day we left his house together for the first time. But he soon replaced it with this, after giving me a few days to decide whether I really wanted
to be with him, all things considered.

  I didn’t need those few days, but I took them anyway, trying to sort out my life and even considering what it would be like without him in it.

  But I knew I couldn’t return to my old life. I knew it when I said my goodbye at the cemetery, and that certainty only grew during the days I had to spend away from him to think about everything.

  I’m perfectly happy where I am right now. Happy, not just content.

  And that’s something I’ve never been able to say before.

  “You’re sure they won’t notice?” I ask him, pointing to my collar.

  He shakes his head.

  “You’d have to know what it is to understand,” he says. “And if you know what it is, you don’t ask about it.”

  He pauses and laughs.

  “Besides, I highly doubt my grandparents are in to any of this,” he adds. “They’re good people.”

  “Oh, and we’re not?” I ask him teasingly.

  Joseph places his palm against my cheek, smiling lovingly at me.

  “No, my pet,” he says in a soft voice.

  “We are us.”

  Thank you for reading!

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