by L. Steele
I shake my head, glance to the right, the left, anywhere else but at him. If I do, I’ll… I’ll lose what little composure I own right now. Correction, I have zero self-possession left. I am drained, empty, alone… Always alone. I had Nina, but even that was taken away from me. This feels so hopeless.
"Saint," my voice seems to come from far away.
"Victoria, the fuck is wrong with you?"
I raise my head, glance up into those blue eyes. Burning bright. Sparks flare in their depths. Hot, he is so hot. Alive. Vital. Everything I am not.
"You’re so beautiful." I raise my hand and he catches my wrist. His fingers dig into my skin. Real. Reassuring. Solid. He’ll protect me. He’ll hurt me. He’ll ground me, show me how to stay in the present. "Saint, please…" My lips grow numb. I can’t feel my arms and legs anymore.
"Don’t you fucking faint on me."
I chuckle, "I never faint."
"Liar."
He's right, of course.
The world tilts and darkness pulls me under.
19
Saint
* * *
I pace back and forth in front of the bed… My bed. She is here, in my room, in my suite. Wrapped up in my sheets… My heart begins to thud. I’ve never brought any woman here. Prefer to restrict my liaisons to an impersonal hotel room that is permanently booked for me a few floors below in the hotel.
So why her? Why is she the first woman I’ve brought to this suite?
Maybe it’s because she’s going to be my wife.
Or maybe it is because of how pale she’d gone right before she’d crumpled. Her legs had gone out from under her and she’d collapsed. A dead weight. If I hadn’t been there to catch her, she’d have hurt herself. And I can’t have that. Not while I still have so much to unravel about this woman who’d appeared out of nowhere and entranced me. It’s only because I don’t know much about her…except for what I have uncovered, which has only fueled my fascination with her.
Thankfully she'd woken up enough for me to get some juice and crackers smeared with peanut butter into her. She'd refused everything else, preferring instead to sleep.
When was the last time I had taken care of anyone like this? Never. That’s the answer. I ball my fingers into fists.
"What the hell are you doing to me, Gigi?" I hear my words and realize I spoke them out loud. That’s what she’s reduced me to. I am mumbling to myself as I fret about the health of a woman I don’t give two fucks about. I don’t… I don’t have any emotions for her; no feelings. Nothing that could expose the person I once was…before... the kidnapping, before my mother died. Fuck. I shove my hand into my pocket.
Why did the submissive cross the road?
Because her master asked her to.
My heartbeat slows.
It runs and runs but can never flee… What is it? I snap my fingers. You know the answer, you know it.
Time. That’s it.
Present in the sun, but not in rain.
Doing no harm, and feeling no pain.
What is it?
My breathing evens out.
A shadow.
I had been a shadow of my former self… Until I met her.
I’m not going to let her get away, not until I have resolved the puzzle that she is. I walk closer and stand over her.
Sweat beads her forehead. She thrashes her head from side to side; her chest heaves. Her fingers dig into the sheets at her side. She moans and my heart squeezes. I cup her cheek and her eyes snap open. "No," she wheezes. "Don’t do it."
"Do what?" I frown.
She knocks my hand away, rolls over, then scuttles up against the head board.
"Gigi?"
She swallows. "Don’t…don’t come near me."
"Victoria?"
Her chin wobbles.
I switch on the lamp and light floods the room. She blinks at me. "Who…who are you?"
"Victoria, it’s me, Saint."
She draws in a breath. "Saint?"
I nod, walk around to stand at the foot of the bed.
She stares at me, her eyes wide in her face. Her cheeks are too fucking pale. I stalk around to where she huddles and she freezes. Her muscles seem to lock, then she hunches into herself, making herself smaller.
I reach for the bottle of water on the bed-stand and she winces.
"Easy," I keep my tone firm, pour a glass of water and offer it to her.
She eyes it warily.
"Take it."
She hesitates. I take a sip from it. "See?" I tilt my head, "It’s safe to drink."
She takes the glass from me, brings it to her lips, and drains it. Some of the liquid runs down her chin. I reach out, wipe away the wetness with my thumb.
She stays silent. I drag my finger across her lower lip. Her mouth opens. I slide my digit inside and she sucks on it. She sinks her teeth in, and fuck me, but I feel the tug all the way to the tip of my dick.
I reach for the now empty glass, pry it from her fingers. She swallows. I place the glass on the nightstand. The slight thump breaks the silence.
She shudders.
I push down with my thumb and she opens her mouth wider. I slide in my forefinger, my middle finger. She swipes her tongue across them. My shaft lengthens in my pants; the blood thuds at my temples. I pull away from her and she stiffens, watches me from under hooded eyes as I take a step back.
"What are you not telling me?" I scowl down at her.
"What do you mean?" She frowns back at me.
"Why did you have that nightmare?"
"Th...that?" She shoves her hair back from her face. "It was...nothing."
"I came in to find you thrashing on the bed, begging someone not to come near you," I growl.
"So?"
"Did he hurt you?"
"Who?"
"Don’t pretend you don't know who I mean."
She tilts up her chin. "N...no." She swallows.
"Lying to me again?"
"Of course, not."
I bend down, peer into her eyes, "Tell me. What's got you terrified, Gigi?" I search her pale features. "Why are you trembling so much that you can barely sit upright?"
"Maybe it's your nearness?" Her lips twist.
"Is it?" I scowl.
"Or maybe it's the thought that you are going to own your dominance and show me what you are made of?" She looks me up and down. Her chin wobbles.
Something hot stabs at my chest.
Fuck, is this an act she's putting on? When she's hurting and unsure, and yet she's taunting me to get the better of my control.
"What are you hiding from me?" I rub the back of my neck. "Why can't you tell me what's got you so fearful that you had to come to me with a proposition that is so unlike your personality?"
"You mean someone as proper as me? Someone who seems so conservative? I couldn't know my tastes, could I?"
"Do you?" I lower my hands to my sides, "Do you know what you're asking of me? Are you ready for everything I am going to demand from you?"
Her chest rises and falls, she firms her lips. "I could ask you the same thing." She reaches forward.
"Gigi... No..."
She grabs my crotch, squeezes my erection.
A groan rips out of me. The blood thuds at my temples. "What are you doing?"
"What does it seem like?" She brings up her other hand to massage my balls and my vision tunnels. "Gigi," I warn her.
"Saint." She peers up at me from under her sooty eyelashes. "I've seen enough porn online to know what turns me on. I've spent my life trying to fit in, trying to be something I am not. I need you to set me free, want you to let me embrace my fantasies, I want this Saint, I—"
"Take your hands off of me," I snap.
She blinks.
"Now."
She pulls back, her face, pale. "I... I'm sorry."
"Show me."
"What?" She drops her hands in her lap.
"Show me you understand what you’re asking for."
"But I... I meant it." She blinks rapidly. "I...do want you."
"You don't get to set the pace." I prop my hands on my hips. "You feel me?"
"B...but." She wrings her hands together. "I—"
"On your knees."
She draws in a breath.
"Now."
She scrambles to the floor, fingers twisted in front, head bowed, her dark hair flowing about her shoulders.
"Beautiful."
A visible shiver runs up her spine.
I unhook my belt, lower my zipper, a moan bleeds from her, and fuck me, but I can’t wait any more.
I wrap her hair around my palm, yank. Her head falls back, her gaze wide. Color flushes her cheeks.
"Open," I demand.
Her lips part.
Fuck, the way she looks right now? My heart begins to race.
"I’m going to fuck your mouth, now."
Her gaze widens and she draws in a breath as if to say something. I don’t wait. I thrust my dick between her lips.
Warmth, heat. Goosebumps explode on my skin. "Fuck," I grit my teeth and sweat beads my forehead. "Fuck, Gigi."
She swallows, and the suction sweeps up my spine. My groin hardens and my thigh muscles spasm. I tighten my grip on her hair.
"Do you have any idea what you do to my control?"
Her nostrils flare, she tips her chin up, and her eyes dart green fire.
"I’m going to use your mouth and you’re going to take it, and when I come, you are going to swallow every last drop."
Her chest rises and falls; the pulse races at the base of her neck. The sweet scent of her arousal envelops me and my balls tighten. My vision narrows, my chest hurts, and fuck her, but I can’t hold back any more.
I pull her forward; my dick slides down her throat. I yank her back and her teeth graze the soft skin of my shaft. Tendrils of fire race up my spine.
I use her mouth, repeat the motion, again and again, then once more. Spit gathers at the corner of her lips, overflows down her chin.
She sucks in her cheeks and my balls draw up. "Jesus, fuck, I’m coming."
I wrap the fingers of my other hand around her neck, then drag her forward. The sight of my dick disappearing in between her wet swollen lips, combined with the vibration of my cock down her throat… Bloody hell, it’s the most erotic thing ever.
My scalp tingles, my knees tremble, and the coiled tension from my groin explodes out. I come, shooting my spunk down her throat.
"Swallow it," I snarl, "Do it, Gigi."
Her throat moves and tears roll down her cheeks, as I keep coming. She swallows down my cum. The sticky liquid spills over the edges of her mouth. Her breathing roughens, her fingers curled into fists at her sides.
I pull out, and the white streams of cum spray across her face, her clothes.
She licks her lips, back straight, shoulders squared. Her hair sticks to her forehead. I grab her under her arms, yank her to her tiptoes, and close my mouth over hers.
The taste of myself combined with her sweet breath, the honeyed taste of her lips, the complex notes of our joined-up essences… All of it sinks into me. Something stirs in my chest. No, no. I will not be drawn to her. Will not allow myself to feel for her. Will not allow her to reach though the carefully cultivated layers to find the part of me I have guarded for so long. I tear my lips from hers, scan her flushed features.
I tilt my head, "I hate you."
20
Victoria
* * *
With those few words he shatters the peace that I’d found in his arms. When I'd opened up to him, and asked him to set me free... I'd meant it. Until that moment I hadn't realized how much I'd wanted to let go of my inhibitions, to not worry about what the world thought of me, to revel in what turned me on and own it... if this was the chance to do it, then I was going to embrace it. Then he'd gone and said those three words.
"What?" I tilt my head, "Why would you say that?"
"Because… I can?" He lets go of me so quickly, that I stumble.
The backs of my knees hit the bed and I sit down with a thump. "I… I don’t understand."
He zips up his pants, then yanks off the belt. The leather whips through the air and I eye it warily. If he thinks I am going to be afraid of his implied threat, he has another think coming.
"Is this another one of your games, Saint?"
He bares his teeth, "Is that what you think it is, Victoria?"
I squeeze my melting pussy together, "I… I don’t know what to think."
"Good." He folds the strip of leather, then jerks his chin towards the settee in the room.
"What?" I frown.
"Lean over it."
"You must be joking."
He glares at me and the blood rushes from my cheeks. Guess not. I rise to my feet. Move. Do it. I force myself to take a step toward it, then stop, "Give me one reason I should agree to your stupid ideas?"
The belt whips out, catches me across my breasts. I cry out, stare at him. My nipples harden. He glances at my chest, and his lips twitch. "That’s what I thought. You like it, don’t you?" He reaches out and pinches one of my rigid nipples.
I yell, "Jesus."
He laughs.
"Your ego is so big that I wonder you haven’t been crushed by the weight of it yet," I snarl.
"That’s what I think every time I look at my—" He looks down at his crotch.
"Seriously?"
He jerks his chin toward the settee, "Go on."
I swallow. He raises his belt; I head toward the blasted settee.
I hear the whine through the air a second before pain grips my backside. I stutter, speed up my pace. When I reach the settee, I pause.
I hear his footsteps behind me. Shit. I fall forward until I am draped over the arm. Butt in the air.
Bloody hell, what have I gotten myself into? Had I known he had this streak of meanness running through him from the beginning? Had I sensed it? Wanted it, even? Wanted him to strip me of all dignity, to tear down the pretense I had clung to, that I was in control? Because I’m not. I haven’t been. Not since the day Nina disappeared. I didn’t know what had happened to her and I allowed my mind to go to all of the usual places, picturing her lying in a ditch somewhere next to an overturned car, crying for help. I allowed my fears to create a story that couldn’t possibly be true. Only to find out the truth was much worse than I could have ever imagined.
They’d taken her. And then...because I just wouldn’t give up and kept looking for her, insisting the police do their job...they took me. My entire life had unraveled around me. And I had watched, helpless, unable to save her or myself. A part of me had fought back and clung to something indistinct, had wanted to hope that I was still there, hidden inside. The girl who was a fighter, who had never backed down from a challenge.
The part I cling to now when he jerks my skirt up my legs. Air hits my exposed back side.
A beat. Another. He hasn’t moved from his position behind me. I sense his presence though. Hard. Heavy. Throbbing. That immovable dominance that vibrates off of him and pins me in place. Waiting…waiting. I squeeze my thighs together, hear the whine of the belt as he snaps it.
I cringe, clench my buttcheeks. He laughs, "Fooled you, hmm?"
"Asshole."
"What was that?"
"Nothing," I mutter.
"So much sass, Gigi?"
Hate the name… No, I lie. It does strange things to me when he calls me that. I’ve always been Victoria. I’d hated being called Tory, especially by them. And no one bothered to find a nickname for me…before him.
I sense his gaze on my back, down the crease between my buttcheeks where my panties are bunched up. I reach behind to pull it out and he clicks his tongue.
I redden. Shit, I hate that. Hate it when he demeans me. Treats me like I am his toy, his slut. His. I squeeze my eyes shut. Where did that thought come from? My sex clenches; my belly quivers. Why do I find that a turn on? I am sick in the head, no doubt
about it. Is that why I am here, doing what he wants…waiting… Waiting for him to take the next step. To do something…anything…whatever he wants to me.
I swallow, "Saint."
"Shh!"
His whisper comes from somewhere above me. I turn my head to find him staring at my butt. "You’re fucking beautiful, you know that?" His voice is contemplative. There’s an intensity to it that sends a shudder down my spine. My stomach flip flops and goosebumps rise on my skin.
"Saint…" I clear my throat. "Please…"
"Hmm." He rolls his neck and his joints pop. I wince. It’s like a declaration of what is to come. The calm before the storm. The silence before the tsunami hits the shore. Do it, do it. Don’t delay.
"I know what you want, Gigi."
"You do?"
He nods, "And I’ll give it to you. Every single experience that you ache for, I promise you’ll have it… And some you don’t dare even think about, though in your heart you want it. Know what I mean?"
I open my mouth to speak, but the words dry up. My entire body braces… My muscles wind up, toes digging into the carpet. My clit pulses and my pussy squeezes down, wanting…needing him. His cock. His fingers. His thick thighs between mine as he tears into me with his cock. Moisture flows from between my legs and I can’t stop the whine that spills from me.
"Good girl," he growls.
I shudder.
"I promise you’ll get what you deserve…but first..."
I swallow.
"First, answer this riddle."
I snarl at the back of my throat. Enough with the stupid riddles already.
"Did you say something, pet?"
I shake my head, bite down on my lower lip and turn away. Fuck him, and his ability to reduce me to a trembling mass of need. My skin feels too tight for the rest of my body. My scalp feels like it’s on fire. I rub my thighs together and he laughs, "Look at you. So impatient, hmm?"
Get on with it already.
"About that riddle."
Fuck off.
"Soon, but first tell me... The more you take, the more you leave behind. What is it?"
I frown. Of course, my mind goes straight to that one thing. Could it be? Is it?