by Jade West
She shrugged, innocently. “Whenever works for you.”
She was so fucking cute. A woman like Elaine Constantine could be looking down her nose at any human being she chose to, even the Quentins, but she was doing anything but. You’d think they were our lords and saviors.
Quite possibly because they were. They just didn’t realize it.
“We’ll see you at seven,” I told Devon, stepping in to seal the decision.
“Seven,” he told the housekeeper, and my word was law.
Elaine didn’t bother getting dressed more extravagantly for the meal once we’d made our way upstairs to the wing. She was still buzzing with happiness to see me, but I could see a conversation brewing on her face. Nerves.
“Tristan called me today,” she said.
I knew exactly what that would be for.
“Gossip columns,” I responded, and she nodded.
“He thinks we should be running away.”
“So would anyone who knows the situation and our families, but they can go fuck themselves, Elaine. I’m not backing down on this for anyone. You’re the love of my life and I’ll be shouting it from the fucking rooftops. Our families can suck it up and take it.”
“But what if they come for us?” she asked.
“They’ll want to,” I said. “But our empire and roots here are growing and expanding firmly. I hope they’ll have more sense than to take a shot at that.”
I could see she wasn’t so sure. She knew her mother after all, no doubt grieving the prick who’d spent years giving her daughter over to the cunts in the fellowship. Still, I knew my father. He’d no doubt be fuming to the point of abject rage, too. My father had a brain at least. I hoped he chose to use it.
“We are really doing this?” she asked. “The West End premiere?”
“Yes,” I told her. “We’re definitely doing it.”
She didn’t question me again, just turned her attention to dinnertime, saying how excited she was with her new friendship with Francesca. Again, it was lovely to see her glowing so brightly, right from the core.
Dinner was nice. Once more I was far more interested in Elaine enjoying the conversations than I was in enjoying them myself. I saw Devon smirking at me when he realized I was staring at Elaine between every mouthful of roasted lamb.
Francesca didn’t notice. She was chatting away quite happily to my princess, clearly excited about the friendship just as much as Elaine was. I loved that. I adored that. The Quentins would no doubt be high on our list of guests when we were in our own kingdom.
We headed upstairs as soon as dinner was over. As usual my hands were all over her as soon as she stepped in through the bedroom door. As always, she was desperate right back, begging for everything she took from me.
One thing she did ask for was pain, beautiful pain. Only I didn’t give it to her, not that night. I had a whole set of other plans on that front, too. Ones I wanted her skin clear and flawless for, a perfect canvas for when I did truly put some marks on her.
“Wait for your gifts,” I told her as I fucked her pretty little slit from behind. “You’ll be given them when I choose.”
I knew she loved that from me. Ownership. Possession. Making her my hungry little submissive under my command.
I made her come, my fingers rubbing her clit as I slammed into her, only giving her my cum in return when she was riding the wave. Fuck, I was spent when we were done, long days and nights finally catching up with me.
Then we did something we hadn’t done all that much of before. We lay in bed together, staring at each other in the fuzzy glow of the aftermath, asking each other random questions.
“Do you like snow?”
“What’s your very favorite color. The exact shade, not a vague one?”
“Have you ever watched a sitcom and been hysterical laughing?”
“What’s your star sign? Have you ever had your birth chart made?”
It was so much fun. So lively. So lighthearted. Something we hadn’t had much of in all the time we’d known each other.
That’s when I picked up on it in myself—just how much I wanted to see the same things I’d seen in her eyes when she was looking at me as when she’d been looking at Francesca downstairs across the dinner table. Friendship as well as love. Love was all consuming and everything, but friendship is knowing. Truly knowing someone. I wanted to know my princess inside out.
She was asleep before I was, the bedside lamp still on on my side of the bed. I watched her, smiling to myself.
I couldn’t wait to show her off to the world. Miss Elaine Constantine on my arm on the red carpet.
My love, my life. My very best friend.
25
Elaine
I must have twirled a thousand times in front of the mirror, staring at the sparkle in my sapphire gown while Francesca stood beside me. She looked absolutely sensational, in a bright orange dress fitted like perfection to her curves. It was so striking. Totally beautiful.
“You look AMAZING!” she told me for the hundredth time as I checked out my back in the mirror all over again.
“Thanks,” I said. “I’m just… I’ll be standing next to Lucian Morelli, the hottest guy on the planet.”
She laughed at that. “Just as well you’re probably the hottest girl on the planet, then.”
I rolled my eyes, because that was a crazy statement, but it still made me feel so nice inside, her being so nice to me.
She checked the time.
“Really, we have to go now. The boys will be waiting downstairs. Fuck, how Devon wishes Lucian was a drinker, he’d love to be knocking back the whiskies with him tonight.”
It was my turn to laugh. “Fuck, how you wish I was a drinker too, I imagine,” I said, gesturing to the glass in her hand. “You’d love to be knocking back the prosecco with me tonight.”
One thing was certain. I wouldn’t be knocking back anything. Me and alcohol were well and truly enemies these days.
I took a deep breath before we began our descent downstairs from Francesca’s bedroom. I had been trying my best not to touch my makeup, since it had been applied just right by the beautician. I wanted to look as perfect as possible for the red carpet.
I thought I’d seen Lucian taken aback by how I looked before, but it was nothing compared to how his eyes widened when I stepped through the sitting room doorway that night.
It was enough to knock me sideways. Absolute, total, adoration. I can only imagine my stare at him must have been equally as adoring, because he looked absolutely fucking amazing.
I had no idea when he’d been fitted for his tuxedo, but it was perfection on him. He was a god. A pure god. The sight of him made my heart race, giving me literal shivers because I was so excited.
He put his mineral water down on the coffee table and walked right on over, tipping my face up to his.
“Elaine. I have no words. I’ll be the proudest man alive tonight.”
I must have grinned like a happy little girl, my eyes meeting his with devotion. This man was a god. My god.
“Time to roll,” Devon said and I looked over to see his hand in Francesca’s, gripping tight.
Yeah, she was his princess, just like I was Lucian’s. It was written all over his face, just as he was enough to set her on fire right back. So lovely to see.
The limo was waiting outside for us, ready to go. My heart was still thumping, nerves and excitement and love a heady mash-up.
Lucian stroked my knuckles for the whole ride into the city while the Quentins told us all over again about the different performers and VIPs who’d be there with us. I was only half listening, too focused on London through the windows, burning bright.
Wow, the West End was thrumming with energy when we got there. I could feel it. People crowded around waiting to be let in. Paparazzi focused on the VIP entrance.
Here we were. This was it.
Songbirds in the Wind. The signs were bright and bold.
Everyone
’s eyes were fixed on our car as it pulled up outside the VIP entrance, red carpet waiting as the attendants stepped forward to open our doors.
They looked very shocked as I stepped on out, and shocked to a whole other level as Lucian stepped out and joined me. Yes. It was us. A Constantine and a Morelli standing together.
And that’s when it went crazy. Absolutely fucking crazy. Lights flashing, and cameras clicking and journalists racing forward to get shots of us up close.
Holy Jesus, I was proud. I held Lucian’s hand with my chin up high and my smile alight, posing for the press before we began our walk along the red carpet, along with the Quentins.
The press were calling out questions. Someone shoved a microphone right in my face.
“Elaine! Elaine! Were you kidnapped? Give us a statement!”
I gave them a statement. A very simple one, with a smile. “No. I wasn’t kidnapped, there has been a misunderstanding. I’ve been with Lucian Morelli and I’m very happy. He’s my partner now.”
All fear was lost under that pure burst of excitement. All thoughts of our families taking a swipe at us was lost under the bliss as the press went even more crazy with the camera flashes and questions. We ignored the rest of them, just kept on walking.
The red carpet steps lasted a lifetime and a heartbeat both at once. The theater was beautiful when we hit the entrance hall. We were guided to our VIP balcony and the view of the stage was incredible. I took my seat by the railing, leaning forward to check out the full scope of the place. It was everything I’d dreamed it would be.
“And here we are,” Lucian whispered to me. “A couple for the world to see. It’s an honor, Elaine. A true honor.”
“Ditto,” I said, with a girly grin. “Being anywhere with you is an honor, Lucian. I didn’t know it was possible to love anyone as much as I love you.”
His grin was amazing, nothing like his trademark smirk. “Ditto.”
The lights lowered to darkness, bursting to brightness again as the curtains pulled back and the show began. The music was so good. The orchestra was outstanding, and so were the performers on stage.
The story was about two birds separated by the bitter cold and wind, both of them believing the other was dead and not being able to live without them, searching desperately for the other even though they believed they were gone.
I was crying by the end, giving a standing ovation alongside Lucian and the Quentins with my hands in the air.
I only hoped we’d be able to do plenty more of these musicals, because they were magic. Magic.
Lucian knew I was crying with the emotion of the story when he took my hand and led me out onto the landing to make our descent.
“We’ll be doing plenty more of this,” he assured me, and wiped away my tears with his thumb. “Thank you,” I said.
“There’s no thanks to give,” he replied. “The pleasure is all mine.”
The paparazzi were ready and waiting for us all over again when we left the theater. This time we dashed right past them, taking a dive into the limo before the Quentins slid in and joined us.
Devon let out a breath once we were back in our seats, letting out a guffaw of a laugh.
“Well, we’re all still alive. Thumbs-up for that.”
Lucian laughed along with him, and he gave him a thumbs-up. An actual thumbs-up, which made me laugh too.
Yeah, these were our friends now. I knew in my heart they always would be.
“Time for the after-party!” Francesca said with a grin, but Lucian shook his head, then smiled at me.
“Not for us. We have somewhere else to be going.”
I had no idea what he was talking about, but Devon did.
“Ah, yes. You’ll be taking the limo on to Soho. Of course.”
I’d heard of Soho as a part of London, but our destination was a mystery to me. Lucian put a finger to my lips as I began to ask questions.
“Wait and see,” he told me, and I did as I was told, mind spinning as to where the hell we could be going. He looked… simmering. Intense. Excited in the very darkest of ways. Truly Lucian Morelli.
The limo dropped Devon and Francesca at some grand hotel a short way from the theater.
“See you later.” Francesca waved along with Devon, and we waved back but stayed in the back seat and kept on rolling.
“Tell me where we’re going,” I pleaded with a grin, but Lucian smirked.
“No,” he said. “Wait until you’re shown.”
The street we pulled into was almost empty. The limo dropped us outside a set of unmarked doors with two security guards outside, big and gruff. I still had no idea where the hell we were stepping into as the driver let us out onto the sidewalk.
The security guys looked as taken aback as the West End paparazzi had as Lucian led me up to the doors.
“We’re expected,” he told them. “Your owner, Andy, told me to head right in.”
They looked at each other for a long second, then swung open the doors for us without question, letting us walk straight on inside.
My eyes were shooting all over the place when they closed the doors behind us. We were standing in a red reception room with a woman with green hair and piercings sitting behind the counter.
She saw us and the recognition was clear all over her face. It took a few seconds for her to compose herself, clearly as surprised by our presence as everyone else we’d crossed paths with that evening.
“Um, hi,” she said, struggling for words. “Welcome to Club Explicit.”
It was when I saw the couple on the stairs ahead of us that I realized what Club Explicit was, but of course that made sense. Club Explicit. It was a dirty one. A BDSM club. I could see it by the crop in a guy’s hand as he made his way upstairs alongside a woman in nothing but a thong.
My heart was absolutely pounding when I saw the lust in Lucian’s eyes.
He gestured to the stairs.
“Let’s go check out Club Explicit, little girl,” he said. “I hope you’re ready to show me what an obedient little slut you really are.”
26
Lucian
I’d heard excellent things about Club Explicit. When I was setting up Violent Delights, my own BDSM club back home in NYC, it had been one of the places I’d investigated heavily online in my research. I’d been meaning to visit for quite some time, but I never expected to be doing so with such a delicious creature on my arm. Let alone a woman I was totally in love with.
The mural on the wall as we climbed the stairs was a marvel in itself, but that didn’t surprise me. I’d heard that one of London’s best street artists had been at work on it. Everything from the lighting and the booths in the main bar, right through to the grand stage and the opulence of the dance floor were testament to the quality and prestige of this venue.
It suited us.
This visit would kick the ass of any damn West End after-party, for sure.
Elaine was her usual wide-eyed self as we headed up to the bar. The girl behind it was a sweet little thing in pigtails, with a lip piercing that gave her a sweet little pout to match. As with everyone else, she stared in shock as we approached, stumbling over her words as she asked what we were drinking. Her shock didn’t get any less obvious when I replied.
“Two mineral waters.”
She served them up for us with shaking hands, a nervous smile on her pretty little face.
Under previous circumstances, I’d have had her over my knee taking a spanking in a heartbeat, but not anymore. Now it was only Elaine in my world.
We took seats at the bar, looking around the room. It was busy, but not heaving. People were clearly very well acquainted with each other, the atmosphere was tense, but in a magnificent way. I’d never have expected to admit it, but this club was actually better than mine back home in NYC. I’d never have expected to believe anything would be better than something of mine, but I had to give credit where it was due. Club Explicit was better than Violent Delights. It kicked its fuckin
g ass.
One thing was for sure, we looked out of place amongst the host of hot-looking freaks in this place. There was nobody else in a tuxedo, and Elaine was shining like a beautiful beacon in her ballgown to the whole damn club. As people began to notice us, heads began to turn en masse, people checking us out with disbelief and a clear rush of excitement. Generally though, they kept their distance. All besides one cocky creature.
The very attractive woman took a seat at the bar next to us, dressed in a black latex catsuit with her jet-black hair swept back into a high ponytail. Her confidence was faultless.
“Hello,” she said, with a self-assured smile on her face.
It was Elaine who replied first, with a wave. “Hello.”
“I’m Raven,” the woman told us, and held out a hand.
My princess shook it with vigor.
“Elaine,” she said, and Raven smirked.
“Yes. You are easily recognizable as Elaine,” she replied, then turned her attention to me. “And you are also easily recognizable as Lucian. Nice to meet you both.”
People didn’t usually refer to me on first name terms in an initial meeting, but with her I didn’t seem to mind it. I liked her. I didn’t usually like people on first sight, or ever in fact, but with her there was a shine of authenticity. Yes. I liked her. I liked Raven a lot.
I liked her even more when a stunning blonde girl arrived to sit next to her, taking her hand.
“This is my girlfriend, Cara,” Raven told us, and the girl waved.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” Elaine said, and in that one single instant I knew these girls would be her friends. Instinct is a very powerful thing when it strikes.
“Your first time in Club Explicit,” Cara commented, stating the very obvious.
I found myself nodding and answering with no sarcasm whatsoever. At odds with my usual self.
“Yes, our first time in Club Explicit.”
“Won’t be your last,” Raven said, with a laugh. “I’m sure you’ll have a very good time here.”
