“Pascal.” The man was pushing the boundaries of acceptable behaviour with his honesty.
“Oh, do stop growling at me. I am too tense to behave appropriately,” he replied sharply as he wrapped the collar around his fist and looked at it. “If I knew what appropriately was, and I need to fuck something interesting.” He unwound the collar again and wandered over to the window to lift up the blind. Alex flicked his eyes to the scars on his ribcage and smiled – his scars, his markings, his property. “Now, what should I do with this?”
“Put it on.”
“Excuse me?”
“Shall I do it for you?”
“No, I…” There were no words coming from the man, just a strange stare as his mind clearly ran through every reason why he should not put it on.
“I’ve just battled for that, Pascal. I may attach a leash to it quite soon. Put it on,” he said as he made his way to the door to follow the woman he loved. “And deal with that-” he pointed at Roxanne, “-however you’d like. But have your collar on and be at the car in ten minutes.”
He grabbed the handle and pushed against the wood until the room full of people came back into view. Various masks and subs hung their heads in apparent humility to a dominant in Pascal’s life. Control of Mr. Van Der Braack wasn’t something any of these people had ever seen, he was sure. They didn’t even know about Roxanne until it had all started an hour ago. He’d seen all their damn questioning eyes as he’d stormed in and demanded that she release him and do the honourable thing. Fuck them. Pascal would never be looked at again in that manner, with their shaking heads and their surprised gasps as they’d sneered and laughed at him because he was owned. He’d been submissive, quiet, almost lost over how to behave, how to handle the jeers around him. It was not a version of Pascal he liked a lot, not one he felt comfortable with at all. Not in public anyway. A small red head came and sat by his feet, offering herself up for a beating. His mind raced to Elizabeth again. Her skin was going to be battered if Pascal didn’t get rid of some energy, and these people needed to remember whom Mr. Van Der Braack was, regardless of what had transpired. He turned and looked back into the room to see Pascal still standing there with the collar in his hand, staring down at it in mystification.
“Pascal.”
“Yes?” Alex raised an eyebrow. “Sir.” It still didn’t sound right. They’d have a conversation about that at some point, unless he could use it to his advantage anyway.
“Before you put it on, you should remind her again, and yourself. It should be interesting enough and might get it out of your system.” He saw the hint of sadism fly to life again in the man’s eyes. It wouldn’t be happening on his watch. “If she safewords you, you stop. Do you understand? It’s my rules now. You can have an hour.” The man nodded his head and put the collar on the table, then smiled and crossed the room, thankfully with green eyes full of a slightly calmer form of interest. More responsibility, making Pascal respect rules. That would be a fascinating experience.
He left the door open for others’ viewing pleasure and walked towards the exit to find Elizabeth, and whatever would be coming out of her mouth this time.
The walk through the club was full of memories, and he stopped as a blue door came into sight. He’d been in there when he was here last. That was the room Conner had dragged him from, stopped him from going too far by allowing him to vent his frustrations on his friend instead of random women. Why had he done that? He’d needed Pascal, that’s why. He should have called him and accepted it at the time instead of believing he could handle the situation with Elizabeth himself. It was all so obvious now. He needed them both in very different ways to allow him to be who he needed to be. Elizabeth wouldn’t have to take his rage because Pascal was there to do that now. He could just love her, play with her and push her. But when the time came, when those moments were too much for her to endure, then Pascal would be there for him. A new three-way bond of trust needed to be formed, one of unspoken conversations and liberation. They just needed to find the rules.
He hovered by the door for a moment before knocking. When there wasn’t any answer, he pushed it wide open and stepped into the space, which was almost empty. There were only a few tie hooks on the wall and a small bench in the middle. It was just his sort of room, with no need for thousands of objects. He could do as much damage with his own body weight as he could with kink supplies. There was only rope that he needed, and teeth. Asphyxiation took no more than a firm grasp, and holes could be used for any purpose when the participant was pliable enough. He breathed in the smell and let it settle for a few minutes. Stone and metal, it reminded him of the mine he’d had that dead fucker in, the one who’d been stupid enough to try and rape Elizabeth. Idiot. Elizabeth, the only one to ever hold his heart, the only one to ever let it beat at its own pace without recrimination. Pascal might allow him to be himself and give him a certain sense of peace, but Alex didn’t feel the same way for him as he did for her. There wasn’t the warmth. There was care. He did care, greatly, but that underlying feeling of love just wasn’t the same.
The door closed behind him, and within seconds, her perfume changed the scent of the room. He smiled to himself and kept looking around the room. This would be interesting. If she wanted the truth, she was about to get it.
“Why are you in here?” she asked quietly, all venom having left her voice. “And where’s Pascal?”
“I’m remembering, and he’s relieving himself.”
“Oh,” she said in response. He turned and held his hand out to her. She walked straight to him and clasped onto it so he guided her to the bench and then walked off around the room.
“I want to tell you something, be honest with you.”
“Okay,” she said as she crossed those mile long legs and looked at him with interest. His cock needed to get a damn grip for a few minutes. Its time would come. He shook his head and fiddled with a ring on the wall for something to occupy his hands with.
“What do you want for Christmas?”
“What?”
“Christmas, what would be your ideal gift?”
“Umm. Well, London would be a good start. A healthy mum.” She furrowed her brow and glanced at the floor. “And some peace, I suppose. I’d really like some peace.”
“Do you think I can give you that?”
“I think you can if you’re honest.” He chuckled at her and walked back across to sit. There wasn’t anywhere so he crossed his legs and sat on the floor beneath her. It was an unusual place to be so he stared up at her for a few minutes.
“Do you still want this, us, all of us? That collar is still yours if you want it, but with Pascal now, the circumstances have changed,” he said as he stared at the diamonds around her neck. “What happened in there could have just been the air around us. I want to be sure.” She pondered the question for a few moments, not a hint of nerves as she continued to gaze straight into his eyes. If he didn’t know better, he’d have sworn she was a domme. That face was almost eclipsing in the hold it had over him, transfixing him almost to the point of forcing him to look away. It wasn’t the same stare she’d had when they met. She was so much stronger now, so much more in control of herself. He hardly ever saw her looking downward or acting edgy now. She was just pure, true to her core. The term ‘switch’ really wasn’t far off base at all, and Christ, he loved her for it. She eventually opened her mouth, still not removing her eyes from his.
“If I forgive you for the plane, will you promise to never do that again?” she asked. “I do hate you for it, and I don’t know how to believe you won’t do it again.” He couldn’t blame her. He’d been a bastard. “And I want Pascal, not as much as you, but I do want him, whether you like it or not, but I won’t be beneath him. Do you understand that? We will fight about it between ourselves, and you will let us find our balance. And I want to understand what this is between you two. Why were you fighting with Roxanne? For what?”
She put the cane on the floor be
tween them and rested her chin on it, her hand around the shaft, looking strangely comfortable, almost relaxed, as she grazed her fingers across it. “I’ll probably allow you anything you need, Alex, including him, as long as you ask me if it’s okay first. You can’t force this, or me. It just needs to find a way, find its peace somehow and settle, in all of us.”
He could force anything he damn well wanted, both of them included, but he loved her all the more for accepting him, them. He grabbed her hand, kissed it lightly and stood up again. It was time she really understood. No games, no manipulating, just the facts.
“The last time I was in here, there were about six women, I think. They screamed, Elizabeth, all of them. I can still hear their cries ringing in my ears. It’s quite beautiful in some ways. And of course they all knew what they had come in for, some begged me for it. I fucked them, hurt them, beat them, used them and degraded them. Just as they wanted. All of them. Do you understand? I once told you I wasn’t a good man. Do you get that now? Did you feel it when I sliced that dress off you? I need that, want that, will never not need or want that. How I behaved on the plane was an extension of that man.” She kept staring upwards at him, still with an unreadable face, nothing to give away any sense of fear or disgust. “It happened when we were apart, when I left you after the ball.” That did make her eyes widen a bit. She clearly had no idea. “Conner made me attack him so that I would stop. He knows me well, because I wouldn’t have stopped, Elizabeth, and he knew it. And the real problem is that Pascal is right. You did that to me. The loss of your love did that to me, made me lose control, again. For the first time in a long stretch, I lost my control.”
She just continued staring at him, as if she was waiting for more and accepting his statement as normal. It really wasn’t normal. He turned his head and wandered around the space again, searching for the right words in his mind. Scared? Was he scared? Edgy, maybe. This whole scenario was untested, unproven. He didn’t know if he could cope with Pascal and hold himself together when it came to her, let alone actually make it happen. Maybe that’s why he’d held off for so long, not really accepted this was going to happen. He stared at the concrete and tried to organise his thoughts. Truth – she wanted the truth.
“I can try to justify my behaviour then to some degree, but I am more concerned with where we go now, if you still want this. The reality is I am sadistic by nature, and am now dealing with a jealousy I wasn’t aware I owned. My behaviour will more than likely cause you pain, and anguish. Our rules have not yet been formed, and because we are both immoral, Pascal and I, you are about to become part of something you can’t imagine, that even I can’t quite imagine. He is waiting for me to say yes. He can smell it all over you, all over me, I should think, but he’s so much stronger than you, Elizabeth, both physically and mentally, and I...” Words failed him at the thought of what might happen. He wouldn’t let it happen, though, would he?
“And?” His head shot round to look at her again. What the fuck did that mean? Wasn’t she scared or nervous in the slightest? She stood up and walked towards him, a slight smile gracing those full lips. She took long, elegant strides that glided her across the floor until she was a foot in front of him. The red of her dress swayed at odds with her hair. Christ, he loved that hair. He put his hands in his pockets to stop his cock taking over his thoughts, and waited to see if she had more to say. “You’re scared, aren’t you?” He chuckled a little and gazed down at her. Trust her to understand his confusion.
“I don’t know if I can control him, or myself, or if I even want to, and I’ve never had to care before you,” he replied honestly. It was all he had, and she wanted the reality, said she’d stay no matter what. She smiled again, a breathtaking smile that had him falling over himself to grab her, kiss her, love her, keep her all to himself and hide her away from prying eyes. He shoved his hands deeper in his pockets and frowned at his own ridiculous dilemma.
“You’re thinking too much,” she replied as she swung her body around again and began walking. He watched her arse with a smile, watched her tapping the cane across the floor just as Pascal would, perfectly in time with her legs as if she’d been made to hold it, perhaps made to use it. “He’s as aware as you are that I’m breakable, and you haven’t broken me yet, have you? He won’t either. I know what I’m doing, Alex. You should trust me. I’m done with being broken.”
With that, she winked at him, opened the door and left. He stared at the door and mused the statement.
“You haven’t broken me yet, have you?” I haven’t tried to.
“He won’t either.” He hasn’t been given permission, yet.
“I know what I’m doing.” No, you don’t.
“You should trust me.” I do. I also love you.
“I’m done with being broken.” Sadist.
“Done with being broken.”
Pain, tears, fear.
Chapter 12
Elizabeth
H oly shit. Did I just say that?
Did I just give him a way to not bother controlling Pascal?
What the fuck am I doing?
I have no idea. I don’t even know how I walked out of that room looking vaguely composed. If it hadn’t been for this bloody cane, I might well have fallen over. Jesus, he looks good, all broody and moody and dominant, fretting around with rings on walls and trying to get me wound up. He really doesn’t need to bother. Again, my inner slut is walking me all the way to that bank as well, at speed. Why I feel the need to be compassionate, I don’t know. Maybe it’s just because I love him, all of him, even the bastard in him. I felt it the moment we all connected in that room, felt the passion ebbing backwards and forwards between the three of us. And I refuse to deny it any longer, or let him. Whatever will be, will be. He brought me here, introduced me to Pascal, showed me this life of his and told me he wanted me to be part of it. So what the hell is he worrying about? He’s the one that’s supposed to know what he’s doing. This could all go very wrong, and I’m not allowing it.
The club is still in full swing around me, full of life and spirit and beautiful people all dressed in their odd outfits with their whips and cuffs and blacks, everything you’d imagine of a kink club. And yet, beyond that door in front of me, the one Gage is guarding, they’ll all be normal people again, won’t they? Just normal, average human beings, dressed normally, having a drink normally and chatting normally. Okay, not completely normally given the fact that they’re going into the back rooms, but to everyone on the street outside, they just look normal. Aren’t we all like that really? Maybe hiding a little something behind our normal exteriors? Maybe being something that the outside world doesn’t allow, something different, unusual, fascinating even?
I’m one of them now, too, aren’t I?
My hand reaches the door and I gaze at my bracelet, his ownership of me, my marriage of sorts, to him. My other hand skims the diamonds at my throat, his throat, my ownership of him. We’re so well interwoven, and if we can just let it all go and make that connection richer together, we’ll be fine. I want to hear him in my thoughts more. I need that so much. I don’t ever want to have to question his behaviour again or fathom the whys. I just want more of whatever that was in the room earlier. That conversation with them, that flowed inside of me, was fascinating, exhilarating, enthralling maybe, and so natural, in an utterly deviant way. I don’t even have words for what that was, but I’m having more of it, and soon.
I’m just about to push on the door when it opens and two couples fall through, giggling and laughing as they go. They’re so comfortable in their togetherness; perhaps they’re a foursome? Perhaps they do this all the time? I giggle a bit at them and turn my way through the door to find Gage towering over me again. He nods at me, smiles, and then looks away again. It seems I’ve made a little progress in the doorman department.
Some nifty footwork later and I’ve managed to make my way back to Roxanne’s apartment door. I look down at my dress, her dress. I should give th
is back really. However, having nothing else to wear, I ignore the thought and wander straight past it towards the exit. Alex will meet me there.
The foyer is empty, apart from a woman at the front desk, another immaculately dressed lady looking every inch the hostess with the mostest. She instantly reminds me of Belle with her perfectly done hair and her precision make-up so I dig around in my bag to find my phone and yelp out as my fingers find the knife at the bottom. Fuck. Pulling my hand out again, I inspect to see the damage my idiotic delving has caused. Nice, Beth. Well done. There’s a small slice across my index finger, but apart from that, nothing too bad. I could almost laugh at myself really. I’m about to put myself in the hands of two sadists and I yelp like a dog at a small cut, one I’ve caused myself, for that matter.
Pathetic, Beth. Sort your shit out.
Carefully venturing into my bag again, I eventually find my phone and a tissue then go outside to the street to phone Belle. Christ knows what time it is but I need to tell her something because the barrage of texts from her don’t sound best pleased with me. The cold air catches me by surprise and the shiver that rides straight across me sends a chill down my spine. Why don’t I have a bloody coat? I need to toughen up, for God’s sake. I don’t know why I expected it to be warm near Christmas. Maybe it’s because it was so hot inside. The burst of laughter that escapes my lips almost has me choking myself to death. Choking, choking on his cock – shit, he said that, didn’t he? Even mentioned vomit. Wow, fuck me, that doesn’t sound good.
“Hello? Hello? For fuck’s sake, Beth, answer the fucking phone,” my sister dearest interrupts my daydreaming, or squirming, as I try to wrap the tissue around my finger.
“Belle, yes, I’m here. Sorry, connection issues, I think.”
“What utter bollocks. Daydreaming, are you? Where are you?”
Absorbing White Page 19
