Anger flashes in his eyes. I’ve really pissed him off by calling him a murderer.
He stares at me for a long moment, his chest heaving, the veins standing out on his neck. For a second, I think he’ll even strike me. Maybe I just want him to, so I can have a real reason to hate him or at least a reason not to love him. But his next words make my blood run cold.
“Go to your cage.”
I open my mouth to protest, but I snap it shut. It’s useless. This is what I wanted anyway.
Tears well up in my eyes, but I fight them back. I don’t know why I said anything. I should’ve known what would happen. All I needed to do was to shut the fuck up and keep counting the days until this was over.
I turn around, drop to my knees, and crawl inside my cage, hating him every second of the way.
He shuts the cage door before I’m even to the back of it. But he doesn’t lock it. He never does. I wish he would. My heart breaks as I hold back the sob.
I glare at him balefully, from in between the bars. He looks down at me with both pity and anger in his eyes. For some reason, it pisses me the fuck off, yet again.
“I’ll spend every fucking day here in this cage if it means I can get away from you,” I snarl with venom. I don’t know why I say the words. I know I don’t even mean it. But I can’t help myself.
I regret it the moment I say it though.
I wait for him to say something nasty in response, but he doesn’t. His face is an impassive mask, but his eyes are a storm of emotion. I’ve hurt him with my words, I can feel it. It hurts me to know that. I really shouldn’t have done that. God, I’m such a bitch. Looking at the swirl of emotion in his dark eyes makes me hate myself.
He was opening up to me, and now he’ll be closed off.
Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.
But I can’t bring myself to say anything. My throats closed off and the tears roll down my cheeks.
I don’t know why.
After a moment, his eyes heavy, Joseph turns and walks from the room, leaving me alone in my cage.
A feeling of guilt washes over me as soon as he’s gone, along with a wave of loneliness and I can’t stop the tears that are suddenly free falling down my face.
I really should be careful what I wish for.
Joseph
Her nails dig into my forearms scratching down my arms and leaving marks as I fuck her ruthlessly, claiming her once again. “Keep fighting me my flower.” I tell her as my hips buck into her and, the bed shakes beneath us.
It’s been three days since I been able to feel the warmth of her cunt wrapped around my dick. Not that she hasn’t wanted me, her anger seems to only intensify her desire. I stare into her eyes, and she stares back at me with the same fierceness. In this moment I don’t know who owns who.
She so close, I can see it on her face, but she’s yet to ask permission.
“Are you trying to cum before I allow you to?” I pull away from her, pulling out of her warmth and leaving her on the edge of her pleasure. I would have gladly given it to her, had only she asked. She breathes heavily, her blue eyes swirling with defiance.
The room fills with the sounds of our heavy breathing.
Hate fuck. Makeup sex. I’m not sure what this is, but I’m hopeful that once it’s over, she’ll forgive me. I want her to look at me the way she used to.
I crawled up her body, my hard dick wet with her arousal pressing into her hip. Her expression softens, as I gentle my hands at her hip. She doesn’t know what to think as I kiss up between her breasts along her collarbone and up her neck.
“You only need to ask me,” I stare at her lips, wishing I could kiss her like I used to. My eyes dart to hers, and I feel this familiarity of what used to be between us. I take a chance, pressing my lips to hers.
She kisses me back before breaking the kiss and asking, “please sir.” There’s hesitation in her voice before she adds, “I miss you.”
There’s no trace of anger on her face. Only sadness. I’m not sure if this will last. But at least I have my flower for a moment.
Chapter 24
Joesph
The marks in the Journal are smooth, as the pen glides against the paper. The pages are worn and old at this point and nearly come to the end. It’s fitting, seeing as how I’ve come to the final scene between myself and my father.
The Romanos were easy to gun down. They didn’t even see it coming. My father took the entire crew. 18 men. The first four littered the front of the restaurant with bullets. I remember how the glass broke. Shattering onto the ground in splintered pieces. I stood in the background, my father to my right, my brother to my left. The screams and gunshots rang out clearly. Blood flooded the streets that night, on both sides, although heavy in the Romanos. Their wives were with them. Their children were with them. Their deaths were quick. With a gun in each hand I walked up with my father, the glass crunching beneath my boots.
I shot a bullet in the head of each of them from my guns. Evidence. I continued shooting until they were both empty. Part of me hoped that my father was going to put a bullet in the back of my head. Every bullet that went off, I expected it. I was meant to take the fall. And I didn’t think that required me being alive at the end of this.
My father gave me a look with a hint of fear when he told me not to mention a single name. I already knew not to. What’s more memorable than seeing fear for the first time in my father’s eyes, was the cold look of my brother’s face. I saw jealousy there. My father was willing to trust me with this task. A son who he knew never loved him. And my brother hated me for it.
Even if I was going to go away for life. He didn’t like that I got any approval from our father or any respect from the men of the familia. But I didn’t agree to do it for either of those reasons.
I never uttered a word. I was ready to take the blame and get the death penalty or jail for life; I didn’t care which. I deserve to be punished for my sins. All of them. But the cops let me go, they followed me, they waited. They were pissed I wouldn’t talk and they anticipated that letting me out with send up red flags to everyone on the streets.
They thought mi familia would come for me. They thought the target they put on my back would have me running back to talk and give them the information they wanted in exchange for protection.
Their error was thinking that I gave a damn. I was ready to die. I didn’t care how. It didn’t matter to me who pulled the bullet.
My father didn’t make a move. If anything, he knew I was honest and he gave me the only thing I truly wanted. Freedom from his rule. But now that my brother is gearing up to take over, my past is coming back to haunt me.
I’m not going back. I don’t care how many men my brother sends here. I’ll kill them all before I go back. I just hope it doesn’t come to that. I haven’t pulled a trigger in a long fucking time. But I sure as fuck didn’t forget how to do it.
The pen stills on the paper as I hear the faint padding of Lilly’s bare feet against the floors behind me. Her anger has waned tremendously. She’s not trying to fight me like she was before.
Maybe she’s forgiven me. Maybe she’s realized that she wasn’t as angry as she thought she was. She was hurt because she thought she knew me.
In many ways she does. More than anyone else ever has.
Or maybe it’s because I stopped fighting her.
I’ve been going easy on her. I don’t want to give her a reason to go back to that cage. I don’t want to give her a reason to fight me any more than she already has. I don’t see a way out of this, other than meeting with my brother. But to do that, I have to leave Lilly, and not something I can’t risk. I won’t risk her.
“Joseph?” She asks me.
Although she’s used my real name, she still kneels beside the chair. I never know which side of her I’m going to get until she approaches me. It’s a funny thing, I thought I didn’t want a submissive. I didn’t want someone else to control what we do and when and what our
rules are. But Lilly’s gotten under my skin. I’m bending for my flower. I’d rather do that than to see her wilt.
“Yes?” I turn to her, petting her hair and waiting for her to look up at me.
She visibly swallows and clasps her hands in her lap. She seems nervous which in turn makes me nervous, but of course I don’t show her that. I’m her Master at all times, I must be strong for her.
“What are you doing?” She asks, her eyes on the journal.
I pat my lap, “come sit with me.” She stands slowly and obeys me, but there’s still hesitation in her actions. I’ve yet to earn her trust back. Even if she gives me these small moments. I know what we once had is broken.
I place my journal on her lap. My heart races in my chest, every bit of vulnerability I’ve ever had is documented. I don’t know why I write it all down. Maybe the dark scenes that haunt me late at night will leave me. If only I’m to write them down.
“I like to write things I remember.” Her pale blue eyes focus on mine through her thick lashes. And then back down to the journal. I can see those wheels turning in her head, she wants to ask more. I don’t wait, I pull her closer to me, my fingers tickling the curve of her waist as I sit back in the chair. “I used to do very bad things, Lilly.” My heart pounds in my chest as I confess to her. “I’ve written down some more for you.” I swallow thickly. “These ones are just for you.” My body chills at the thought of her hating me when she reads them. It’s all the truth of what I’ve done. I can’t forgive myself, but maybe she will. She’s kinder than me. She met me when I’d tried to move on.
Her breathing comes in a little louder. She licks her lips slightly and then asks, “why did you do them?” The hurt in her voice kills me.
“You didn’t want me to turn out to be a bad man did you?” She wants there to be good in all people. I can tell that about her. It’s one of the qualities I find endearing about her. I think that’s one of the reasons she’s so angry with me. I disappointed her. But I swear I tried.
Her voice cracks as she answers, “you aren’t a bad man.” She can’t even look me in the eyes as she says it. She knows she’s lying and it breaks my heart.
“I didn’t have much of a choice.” I know I had one, but it was kill or be killed. For the first time in a long time, she lays gently against my chest. Her small hand rubs circles over my heart. I miss her comforting touch.
“Would you like to read it?” The offer spills from my lips in an attempt to tell her what I had been through and explain without having to actually tell her. I don’t want to recount it all over again. I put it into this journal so I can forget. But maybe if she knows everything, how I left and why, she can forgive me.
She doesn’t hesitate to nod, the word slipping between her lips, “yes.” The eagerness and her response makes me smile.
“This is different from what I thought it would be,” she says softly. The way she speaks, makes it seem as though what she’s telling me is a secret.
“It is for me too.” I have to agree, this isn’t at all what I had in mind when I first laid eyes on Lilly.
I wasn’t lying when I said the games changed.
“How is it different for you?” She asks playing at the hem of her dress. I suppose I’ll have to go first before she’ll tell me what she was thinking.
“That the master-slave relationship is only for short spurts. I’m not stupid, Lilly. I don’t control you. But I don’t want to either.” I want something different from her now. More than just acceptance as her master. More than forgiveness. Although I’m not sure what.
She looks a little bit upset and hesitant. I wish she’d just forgive me. I want to put her at ease. That’s all I’ve been trying to do for the past week.
“I’m sorry, I’ve been…” Lilly’s voice trails off. “I knew you … I knew you had …” She looks away, unable to finish.
“It’s in my past. I promise you.” I just need her to believe it. I know she doesn’t want to fight me anymore. “I’m not the man I once was.” She must know it’s true. She knows me better than anyone ever has.
Her nod is small, but accepting. I can see it in her eyes that she believes me.
“Where does that leave us? Both of us thinking this was something it’s not … and you… figuring,” she waves her hand in the air, shifting in my lap.
I cup her small chin in my hand, tilting those soft lips closer to mine, “it just means that sometimes will play and sometimes we’ll just be us.”
She looks up at me and asks, “and what is that?”
I don’t know how to answer her, So I’m quiet.
“Even if we aren’t playing, you still need to treat me as though I’m your master.” Although it’s a statement, it feels as though I’m asking her a question. I feel wrong for telling her that since all this time we’ve nearly been playing scenes. But I know what she’s about to read. And I don’t want her to think any differently of me. I am her Master and it should stay that way. Regardless of what she reads. Regardless of how well she gets to know me.
“Yes, sir.”
“Hold still my flower,” I tell Lilly as her back rests against the wall. “Hands at your side,” I say as I push her palms against her thighs. She’s naked before me, finally obeying me again. It feels as though we’re playing house. Like this is all pretend. We’re ignoring what lies beyond these walls. My familia, the fact that she can’t leave. Pretending to be blind to what’s meant to keep us apart.
I get on my hands and knees, putting my face between her thighs and inhaling her sweet scent. Judging by her gasp, she didn’t expect it. I smile against her heat before taking a languid lick and pulling back to look her in the eyes..
“Ride my face, Lilly,” I tell her, noting how her eyes widened as she comprehends my words. “Take your pleasure from me. Cum freely.”
I place my hands on the inside of her knees, allowing her legs to bend slightly. She rocks helplessly into my face, hesitant at first. But I groan with approval, her hips grind harder and soft moans spill from her lips.
So long as she obeys me, I give her everything she wants. Every pleasure, every need. I just need her to obey me. I need her to stay with me.
Chapter 25
Lilly
I take a deep breath, my fingers trailing over the high quality leather of Joseph’s journal. I’m part way through reading it. I don’t know if I’m ready today for more of the bad things that I know I’ll find out while reading it, but I’m going to go through it anyways. I want to see what happened in his life. It makes me feel that much more connected to him.
A ray of sunshine hits the golden latch of the journal, reflecting a flash into my eyes.
I’m curled up in Joseph’s sunroom, reclined in a white, plush fabric recliner, soaking in the warmth of the sun. The view from here is gorgeous. The sky is a clear, azure blue, and the ground is covered with a thick layer of white snow that reflects the sunlight, filling the room with brightness.
It is lifting my mood. I’m already feeling better these past few days with the new rules Joseph has set for us. I like the idea he had about playing scenes. And I love that he’s opening up to me bit by bit. He’s adding details and writing notes to benefit my understanding of what happened. He won’t talk to me about it though; the journal is all I get. He won’t even be in the same room when I read it. Even now, he’s in the kitchen because he knows I’m reading it.
I open the journal to the last passage I stopped on and pick up where I left off. It doesn’t take long before I’m deeply engrossed in his story. Now that I know how the story ends, everything he’s written is so clear. But when I reach a passage that’s so heartbreaking, about his mother, I can’t keep the tears from falling for my eyes.
“This is hard,” I say thickly, wiping the tears from my cheek with the back of my hand.
I have to close the book. I can’t read anymore right now. I just can’t believe all the things that Joseph has gone through. I feel absolutely awful for him.
I haven’t forgotten that he’s keeping me here. That I’m a prisoner. But I wouldn’t leave if he told me to. If he commanded me. I’d refuse.
As soon as I see him, I’m going to crawl in his lap and kiss him and try to give him all the comfort that I’m capable of giving. I know he doesn’t like to be held and he doesn’t like sympathy, but I need it as much as he does.
But for now, I’ll keep playing our game and pretend like I don’t know that he’s avoiding me because I’m reading the journal. He’ll pretend he doesn’t know that it kills me to see what he’s been through. I don’t mind playing this game, because it only makes me closer to him.
I push the journal onto the ottoman and grab my laptop, wiping under my eyes and my nose as I move.
I need to relieve some serious stress. I sniffle again, opening up the laptop as I sag in the seat. Right fucking now. And there’s nothing that helps me to relieve it more than writing. It’s always been my therapy for when my emotions are heightened or I’m feeling down. It’s the perfect way to release my emotions. Joseph needs something like that. I told him that.
And he told me that’s what I am to him. My heart hurts remembering his words.
I open on my laptop screen, my mind overflowing with ideas to use for the story. It should be easy. I have so much material to work with. So many emotions to play off of.
I’m about to turn over to the Word document screen, when a email notification pops up on my screen.
From: Aida White
To: Lilly Wade
Subject: MY BABY IS GONE
Lilly
My hands are shaking as I type these words. I don’t know who to talk to, but I need to talk to someone. I haven’t stopped crying since this morning. My baby is gone. I can’t believe it. How I wish I would have turned my life around sooner. If only he would’ve waited just a little while longer and mommy would have been there for him. I feel like such a worthless piece of shit. I bet that’s what you think of me. And you’re not wrong.
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