Absorbing White

by Charlotte E Hart

  “What if I do lose you? You tell me to do as I’m told, and then in the next breath tell me you’re not going to stay with me. I’m confused. Who do I listen to? Who do I safe word if I need to? What if you don’t hear me? I can do this ‘we’ll be okay’ thing until I’m blue in the face, but I felt you in the Lake District. I felt you the other night. You disappear. You want to, and I don’t know how I’m going to make...” She trailed off to nothing but moving lips and a sigh. He looked at her for a minute and then picked her up and put her incredible arse down on the desk behind her. Did she not understand this at all? He supposed he hadn’t been that informative of the lifestyle, nor given her much explanation, but then he’d never really expected to have to live it with her.

  “Why do you think I’ve been so hard on Pascal?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know anything about what’s going on with you two. One minute you’re making him kneel on the floor with your ‘you will’ voice, and the next you’re all dreamy eyed over a picture of his family. And I have no idea about the whole collaring thing? Is that normal? Why have you even done it?” she replied, all spluttering lips and waving hands. He shook his head and said what he hoped would be true.

  “I collared him because I refuse to let him leave me. I need him. Our relationship has always been about me beating him until he’s had enough, which serves both our purposes. I couldn’t give a damn if he kneels for me or not. He will always let me beat him and that’s what I need.” Her eyes widened as she leaned away from him a little and parted her extremely fuckable mouth, which was becoming ever more fuckable with every breath at the mention of beatings. “And I am hard on him because I need him to believe I mean it, that he will not survive if he disappoints me. And the only way Pascal could ever disappoint me, which I hope he knows, is to not look after you.”

  “Oh. I...” she started, still with wide eyes and a concerned look on her face. “You mean your plan is to let whatever happens happen and hope that Pascal is decent? Because, you know, he’s not exactly known for that, is he?” He’d said all he could. He was as much in hope of a decent Pascal as she was. He’d seen the way the man touched her, kissed her. He was relying on this newfound love to get them all through this.

  “No, he isn’t.” What time was it? He looked at his watch. 7.56pm. He fiddled with his cravat and considered putting it around her eyes again. She still looked a little nervous. Perhaps not. “Put this on for me?”

  “That’s it? The safety speech?”

  “Yes, where’s my drink?” he replied as he flicked open the laptop again and logged into the fund transfer page. She jumped off the table beside him, wobbled, and then slapped him so hard he didn’t know what had hit him. He glared at her and then smirked at her hand on hip stance. Those legs really did go on forever.

  “What exactly was that for?” Christ, he loved her.

  “Just thought I’d get my shot in while I could,” she replied with a giggle, now sipping her glass of champagne with the other hand. “Do your own sodding cravat, Mr. White.” Hellcat. He rubbed his cheek and wiggled his fingers at her.

  “Come here, and watch this screen.” She was by his side in a second and resting her chin on his shoulder as they both stared at the monetary amount.

  “Fuck me, that’s a lot of money. Why are we...? Oh.” The amount rolled down, and down, and down, until the closing balance was zero. “Where’s it all gone?” Two minutes went by as he kept staring, and then his phone vibrated on the table at the same time as the email started pinging. Confirmation of fund transfer, confirmation of balance received, confirmation of terms, confirmation of land deed transfer, confirmation of sale. It was all there as she stood quietly behind him and held his hand. Finally, an email arrived from Louisa, confirming all of the above and attaching all the legal documents involved, with the note, ‘Well done, Sir.’ He immediately forwarded all the necessary information to Tyler Rathbone and waited for the answering email. That man was about to get a lot richer, too, but then he had funded the deal to some degree and helped him out of a bloody tricky situation when he needed a new investor. He shook his head at the thought of a smiling Tyler clapping his hands together in that American way.

  “I just bought a big patch of Shanghai,” he stated, suddenly overly anxious to get her reaction, which was odd. He’d never needed anyone’s approval on anything before now.

  “Good for you. Congratulations,” she said. “Is that what you wanted? Have you avoided annihilation then? Decided on world domination instead? Is Henry off the hook? Is it over now?”

  No, it wasn’t at all. He smiled at her and clinked glasses as she stood there watching him. She really didn’t care in the slightest about the purchase. Either that or she didn’t know enough to understand how much money he’d just made.

  “Are you ready to go?” he asked as he shut the laptop down and felt his smile grow wider. This was deception at its finest. Henry hadn’t got a chance of beating him. He only needed to sort this other crap out and then everything would be fine again, quiet. He could just try for some of that peace she always wanted and just be happy. She wandered off into the bedroom, apparently in some sort of huff about something, and slammed the door behind her. He looked at it for a moment and considered fucking her back into a good mood, but he checked his watch and realised the car should be downstairs so scanned his phone for messages instead while she calmed down. He found yet another from the unknown person pretending to be his father. This was the third now, all similar in their tone – warnings. He’d dismissed the first two and just gotten on with Christmas and making her happy, but the third had been more intrusive.

  - Son, do you remember how angry I got when you didn’t get to me quick enough?

  Yes, he did, and the obvious warning in that message that the person was pissed he wasn’t responding had cut too close to the bone to be just a simple hoax. No one other than Pascal and Elizabeth knew anything of his past, not in that detail anyway. His stomach churned again at the thought as he scowled at the new message and looked over the contents.

  - We need to talk, son. I would hate for that life of yours to be a total waste, and the girl is pretty. I’m sure she’d be appalled by what you turned into.

  What the fuck did that mean? Who the hell was this person? Mark Jacobs knew nothing. Even the call to Andrews to get him back home hadn’t proved useful, regardless of the fact that he should be home by now, dealing with it. Neither man seemed able to help him with who the person was. Son? Fuck off. Was the wanker threatening Elizabeth now? Threats to himself he could deal with, but not her – never her. He sent the message straight to the pair of them and threw in as many deliberate intimidation techniques as he could manage. He fucking paid them both to be better than the current shit they were producing. Whatever the threat was, it didn’t matter too much because she knew anyway. He’d been honest and told her. There was nothing left to hide. She knew it and she was here with him anyway, loving him. He just wanted to kill the fucker that was daring to threaten her.

  “I’m ready now,” she said softly from behind him. He turned to look at her and was momentarily blinded by the vision as she held her cane up and tipped the front of her hat at him. Two people merged together in an instant: Elizabeth and Pascal, his aggression and need, her love and passion. He pulled in a breath and felt the warmth caress every part of him, coursing through the very soul of him and offering that peace he was in search of. It was coming. It was close.

  It just needed a helping hand.

  ~

  The car pulled up to the front of the Altes and he looked her over again. She was still a little nervous. Her fingers still fiddled occasionally with his cravat that she’d been holding the entire way.

  “Are you going to put that on me or not?” he asked. She flinched and then picked up her drink again to down another glass of champagne. Those nerves of hers still looked overly attractive. They still churned his stomach and reminded his cock of exactly what he was after. He’
d said all he could to allay her fears, and to be honest, he wanted that fear there a little, wanted it to circulate inside her and make her aware of the possibilities. Who wanted a dull life of boredom with disingenuous words whispered into the night? She wanted to see who he was, to feel him in his happy hour at the bar. Well this was it. This ball and all the people within it were where he could truly be himself, a version of himself that was accepted, warranted, fawned over even. Not that he gave a damn what they thought. It was just nice to allow his mind to quieten and be the animal rather than playing the gentleman.

  He opened his door at her lack of response and picked up the long rectangular box she’d wrapped so carefully, then watched the driver open hers. She picked up her cane, looked at it for a moment, inspecting it as if searching for something, and then smiled to herself.

  “Something amusing?” he asked as she tied his cravat around the hilt of it.

  “Yes. Come on. Let’s go,” she said, and suddenly she was back. Her face was now the picture of fortitude as she exited the car and strode straight past him. All heads turned as she made her way up the red-carpeted stairs without him, the ruffled trail of her dress kissing each step as she did so. He watched her go and gazed at the sway of her hips until she made it to the top and then spun to face him. She held Pascal’s cane – her cane – up and beckoned him with it, a radiant smile illuminating the space around her as the lights from inside the venue dimmed in comparison.

  A few people spoke to him but he couldn’t hear them. She shone too brightly at the top of those stairs, dulled the world into insignificance and reminded him how small he was. How utterly disappointing he must be as a human being when compared with the likes of her, because she owned her frame, she was all her. There wasn’t a damn thing in this world that could ever corrupt the nature of her soul, let alone shackle it.

  “Alex, come,” she shouted. He chuckled at her command and waited for the next one, which might include one of those beautiful giggles if he was lucky. She shook her arse at him and then kicked her leg up a little in a faux cancan move while laughing at herself and tipping her head at the doorway. She was either quite drunk or suddenly very excited.

  “Alexander,” a voice said beside him. He started walking up the stairs and acknowledged the arrival of Draven Creed at his side with a nod. He didn’t need to look. The shadow from the man was enough. “You still have that one?” Mmm. It was probably an oddity in this world for him to be with one woman this long to be fair.

  “Yes, she’s interesting. Getting more so with time.”

  “I heard of the revelation in New York. Is it true?” Ah, yes. Pascal. This would need dealing with reasonably quickly or he’d be answering the same damn question all night. He briefly wondered what Pascal had told everyone before deciding that it was nobody’s business but their own.

  “I’ll let him explain it, if he chooses to.” He caught Elizabeth’s hand in his and walked them in through the door to find the man in question.

  “Oh my god,” she said under her breath as they walked through the enormous foyer. He raised a brow at her as he considered that Pascal had indeed outdone himself this year. Money must have been poured into this party. Not that that was anything unusual where Pascal was concerned, but there wasn’t a table in sight that didn’t have crystal adornments and elegant fetish themed objects cascading over it. “Jesus, how rich are you two?”

  “Exceedingly, it seems,” he replied, as he caught sight of the man himself. He was in gold, a near perfect replica of the suit he was wearing himself, and stood in front of a gaggle of women. That small boy hovered at his side with a nervous smile on his face as the women fawned over the lord of the dance and fell to the floor for him. He smirked at the theatrics and wrapped her arm over his to make their way towards him. “I thought you didn’t care for money. What did you buy him anyway?”

  “We bought him. We,” she snapped as she watched a woman sitting on some chap’s lap, possibly fucking. He raised the other brow at her newfound temper and wondered what she’d been thinking in the car earlier. “Are they having sex? We’ve not even eaten yet. I hope we’re not sitting at that table.” She’d be seeing a lot more than that at some point. “Actually, it might just be me, I suppose. I’m not sure. I’m not even sure if it’s a good present or not. Promise me you won’t be mad? I mean it. Well, not until later anyway, then you can be a little bit mad.” What was she rambling on about?

  “What?”

  “The present. Say you’ll just accept that I want him to have it. I don’t like him all bereft and lonesome.” He still hadn’t got a clue what her lips were discussing, but he nodded in affirmation and led them towards the table. Pascal caught sight of them and smiled broadly as he took a seat at the top table and waved them both over. It was a genuine smile, a happy one. It seemed the man was completely comfortable with their new situation.

  “It is not possible for you to look any more divine, my dear,” he said as he took Elizabeth’s hand and licked his way up her arm. Hackles that would have normally risen stayed quiet and relaxed at the sight as he watched them interact. She giggled and blushed slightly as he pulled out a chair for her and handed her more champagne. “Have you readied yourself?”

  “Have you?” Alex cut across them as he put the box on the table in front of the man. Pascal turned and smirked at him, that far more normal devilish performance now coming back out to play with relish.

  “I will always be ready for you,” he replied. No ‘Sir’, just a slight bowing of the head as he turned back towards Elizabeth again. “Is this for me? I do adore a present.”

  “Yes. Oh, and happy birthday. Why didn’t you tell me? Open it, please,” she said as she picked it up and shoved it at him in enthusiasm. The man scowled at her then back at him as he glanced his head around.

  “You told her? I could be cantankerous with you for that.” Alex chuckled at the man and picked up a glass of champagne, trying not to stare at her tits jiggling about.

  “Why?” she said as she started undoing the bow on the present and shuffled closer to him.

  “I do not age, my dear. Somewhat like that vampire you consider me to be. Is it possible that I could open my present myself?”

  “No, too slow,” she said as she giggled and started ripping the paper away. “You do make a very good vampire, you know?”

  “I do?”

  “You do. It’s very you. You look a lot like a vampire tonight, swarthy, intriguing. You just need some little round glasses and- ” Pascal grabbed her, yanked her towards him and bit at her neck so hard she screamed out loud and laughed. The entire room turned to the sound as the man continued to devour her in front of everyone and groped at her thigh like a wench in a pub. After a beat of squealing and squirming, she quietened in his arms and began to sprawl herself across him, those exceptional legs opening easily as he pulled his fingers higher and moved the dress out of the way.

  “Don’t push your luck,” Alex said quietly beside them, still drinking and watching them in interest, his cock hardening beneath him at the connotations involved. “I’m still not entirely comfortable with the thought.” Pascal stilled and then slowly removed his hand, gliding it over her skin as he kissed his way up her throat towards her mouth. She moaned again, possibly in irritation, and then sat herself upright, quickly dismissing the moment and aiming at the present again instead. She suddenly noticed all the guests still watching the show.

  “What the sodding hell are they all looking at? It’s just normal Pascal for God’s sake,” she snapped, all aggressive eyes and a sneer that had come out of nowhere. It appeared she was becoming possessive of her little moments. Alex chuckled at her performance and handed them the discarded box again.

  “They’re not watching Pascal, Elizabeth. They’re watching you,” he replied, licking his lips at the very thought and imagining her spread out on the table for him, for them. “You’re an unknown quantity to them, a surprise of sorts.”

  “Well,” s
he said as she took her seat again and knocked the lid on the box with her cane. “I’m not theirs to watch. I’m yours, and perhaps his every now and then,” she continued with a nod at Pascal. “And now I’m all wet and excited again. Will you open your present, please?”

  “By all means, my dear. I am extremely apologetic that I became distracted by your divinity,” Pascal replied with a wave of his hand at the audience. They all turned away again and recommenced their inane chattering. He pushed at the clasps on the box and finally opened it to reveal some bagged objects of differing shapes. She began fidgeting excitedly in her seat and couldn’t stop her hands diving in.

  “Do I fuck with it? A new toy? I’m afraid I have never seen such a thing,” Pascal asked with a look of utter confusion on his normally guarded expression.

  “Nooo!” She giggled. “Well, actually you might, I suppose,” she said with a very dirty grin. She pulled the first thing from the bag to reveal an ebony stick, or rather cane. She then pulled another and began screwing the two together. He chuckled beside her and rubbed her back. It was a thoughtful gift, given the fact that he’d taken Pascal’s own from him and given it to her. Although she hadn’t a clue what she’d just done. He shook his head to himself and watched as she reached in again and pulled out the silver top and began to screw that on, too, then handed it to the man. Could she make this anymore difficult for herself? Or him? “Its antique. I found it in a shop in London. Apparently it comes from Holland, late 1800’s the chap said. I couldn’t just leave it there. It reminded me of you. Look, it’s got a bat on the top of it, too. Bat… Vampire… Get it?” Pascal just stared at her as if he were mesmerised. “Is it okay? Pascal? What’s the matter with him? Have his batteries finally run out?” she said as she glanced at Alex, and then to Pascal again.

  “I think he may be in shock.”