by S. Ann Cole
Lovello was sitting bare-chested around his desk, his attention focused on his computer instead of me. This was the first time I’d ever been in his study. It was unnecessarily huge, painted a hunter-green and was decorated with dark-wood furniture and classic leather chairs. A portion of the wall on the right was covered in monitors that showed every crevice and corner of the house. Christ. He sure as hell was keeping a close eye on me.
“What is it?”
Ignoring his lackluster tone, I said, “You’re so hypocritical … and lukewarm. One minute you’re telling me ‘deuces’, arranging to have people’s limbs chopped off, and the next minute you’re meditating on gospel?”
His eyes left the computer monitor and found mine. Though the lighting in the room was dim, I knew those eyes were glowering. “What I have with my God is not a religion, Axia. It’s a relationship. I’m not perfect and he knows it. He loves me and I love him. Sometimes I do things that piss him off, and he punishes me how he sees fit — majority of the time he just loves me anyway. I don’t live for people, because people can’t bless me, heal me, or give me shit. All they can do is talk. That’s all humans have at the end of the day: words. God’s the one with the power. So he’s the one I commune with. To hell with you and anyone else who thinks I’m lukewarm. God caters for the broken, not the perfect.”
Me and my damn big mouth. I was only messing with him, but the guy seemed to find me so despicable that he had to blow something this simple out of proportion. There was nothing left for me to say to him without getting some acidic response, so I just told him the real truth. Told him what he wanted to know. I was submitting … “I’m hurt. I’m pained.”
Lovello stared back at me standing bare and vulnerable in his doorway. Nothing came from his lips for a count of sixty seconds. “How bad?”
“Bad enough to make me hate me … Bad enough to make me hate you.”
His shoulders lifted in a careless shrug that belied the heat in his eyes. “You never did love me anyway, so…”
Was he serious? I pushed away from the door frame and walked further into the room. “You don’t truly believe that, do you?”
“If you were in love with me, you would’ve asked me if I cheated. Confront me. Confront Nicole. Demand to know the truth. Scream. Shout. Fight me. But you did none of those things, because you were always waiting for me to screw up so you could run right back to your ex. He’s the one you loved. Not me. You made that loud and clear earlier tonight, didn’t you? You begged for him. So don’t play the ‘I love you’ crap with me.”
“You’re such an asshole! Fuck!” I exclaimed in disbelief. “How did I not see you for the major dick that you are before now? How had I overlooked it? How did I ever allow myself to fall in love with a fuck-faced asswipe like you?!”
“Axia, please —”
“I love you this much!!” I cried out, ripping my lingerie open and revealing my tattoo. “This fuckin’ much, assfuck! How insane I am!”
Lovello sat up and leaned in closer, his eyes squinting. Then he reached for the switch of his table lamp which instantly filled the room with a bright yellow glow. Roiling with anger, I stood glaring at him as he got up from behind his desk and rounded to the front and sat on the edge. With his eyes still on my tattoo, he quietly whispered, “Come here.”
The real me didn’t want to go anywhere. The real me wanted to curse him, cut him, kill him. But the new me willingly went ahead without a moment’s hesitation. The new me wanted nothing more than to be close to him. The new me had wholly and completely submitted. I stood before him, raw, open, passive, my hands dangling at my sides. My lingerie hung ripped and limp on my shoulders and my nipples hardened as the cool air whispered across them.
Lovello hooked one finger in the front of my lace underwear and pulled me closer to him, his gaze transfixed on the tattoo. Lifting a hand, he gently trailed his fingers over the indelible letters of his name. His eyes swam with wonder … and love.
Love had a name, and it was his.
“When … when did you do this?”
“Three weeks after our … break-up.”
“But why?” His voice was lower than a whisper.
Wasn’t it obvious? “I just told you: because I love you. I know, we were no longer together and I accepted that fact. But I wanted to keep you with me somehow. Knowing I’d never love anyone else as much as I love you. So I branded your name into me. Like slave owners branded their slaves. And those slaves, even long after they’ve been emancipated, were always reminded by that mark that they were once owned by someone. I wanted you to be permanent. I wanted to be reminded by this mark, for the rest of my life, that I was once owned by you … am still owned by you. Until my body rots to dust, these four letters will prove that I’m forever yours.”
Lovello was lost for words. He looked torn, hurt, contrite. What now? “I didn’t…” He trailed off and ran a hand over his face. “I didn’t know. You had it all this time? I’m-I’m confused.” Bringing his hands to my shoulders, he pushed me back a few inches away from him. “If you loved me all this time as you say, enough to brand yourself with my name, then why, why would you try to get rid of my child? This is what I’ve been trying to figure out. Wouldn’t a child be just as permanent? More real? Wouldn’t having my baby be the best way to always have me in your life? Why would you try to abort it — me — then?”
Was that question even answerable for me? There was no answer I could give that wouldn’t sound selfish. “I don’t know. Because I was confused? Because I was afraid? Because I’m a bitch?”
A deep inhalation lifted his chest as he stared back at me, his eyes searching mine for God knows what. But whatever it was, I was praying he’d find it, because I was tired of all this. I just wanted things to go back to the way they were.
“Yes. You are a bitch.” A slow smile spread across his face as he pulled back to him, his thighs on either side of me. “But you’re my bitch.”
And then his lips crashed down on mine, and his tongue dipped inside, kissing me with ferocious hunger. A low moan muffled between our lips as I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him with equal fervor. It felt like a decade since I’d tasted this man. Touched this man. Felt this man. The fervency expressed in his kiss was heart-sobering, making me fall in love with him all over again. He still wanted me. He still loved me.
Clasping my hips, he lifted me off the ground then spun around and gently laid me back on his desk, shoving his stationery in a jumbled heap to the floor. He removed the remains of my shredded lingerie and leered down at me with such heat, I felt scorched. Scorched by his gaze. Scorched by his touch. Scorched by his love. Just scorched.
His long-fingered hands cupped my breasts and kneaded them tenderly, his thumbs brushing over my hard nipples. Then one hand trailed tortuously down my stomach and settled over the raised area. “You’re body’s changing,” he whispered in awe. “You’re really … I’m really…”
With a shake of his head, he covered me with his hard body and reclaimed my mouth. This time he was slow and passionate, expressing his love with every delicate thrust of his tongue. I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him closer so I could feel the hardness of his erection against my throbbing core. I needed the friction because there was a puddle between my thighs. My vagina was weeping for being neglected for so long.
Lovello slipped his hand in my underwear, stroked one finger down my center then thrust it straight inside me. He made a soft, appreciative moan as he gently stroked me, taking his precious time. But I wasn’t up for foreplay tonight. I’d been sexless for far too long, and I needed him inside me. “Love, please. I need you…”
“You have me.”
His thumb circled around my bud and I whimpered. “No. I need you inside me. It’s been way too long for me to have any pressure build-up right now. Please, Love.”
On a groan of acknowledgment, he withdrew his finger from me and pulled my underwear down my legs. He tugged down the wa
ist of his silk pajama pants and freed his length. Then he grasped my legs, bent them up to my chest and commanded me to hold them. Without hesitation I complied, impatient to feel his oversized cock in me. But instead, I felt his tongue sweep down my seam, then flickered over my bud. “Jesus, Love, I said not tonight! I want you inside me. Now!”
Lovello chuckled, and it was a sound I’d missed so much. “Okay. I’m sorry. Just had to taste you, beauts. Just had to.” Situating his head at my entrance, he said, “You know, when I saw you tossing and turning tonight, I thought I was never gonna get to come.”
“I beg your pardon?”
With a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, he said, “I wait for you to fall asleep every night, then sneak into the room and jerk off while I watch you.”
What the … ? How creepy is that?
Trying not to sound shocked, I whispered, “That’s not perverted at all.”
“You can’t blame me. You’re the one who walks round in skimpy little lingerie. What do you expect me to do? Do you have any idea how fast my heart races every time I see you? How hard it beats?”
Before I could say anything, he plunged inside me, evoking a loud cry from my lungs. No idea where the hell that came from. Guess my body was overjoyed.
Resting a hand over the raised area of my stomach, Lovello began to move measuredly, groaning with each thrust. Going fast, then super slow, then hard and then soft. Making me writhe with pleasure. This is what I’d missed. What I’d needed.
“Christ. I’ve missed you so much, beauts.” His weight crashed down on me as he pumped firm thrusts inside me, devouring my neck, licking and nipping. “I thought … I thought this was gone … thought I’d never feel like this again.”
As my orgasm teetered on a weak branch, my muscles clenched around him. I gripped his biceps as my body tightened in anticipation of my orgasm’s crash. Lovello, knowing my body as well as he knew his own, picked up momentum, pounding me the way he knew would send me reeling. The way that goaded orgasm. And in a second, I was exploding around him. A long-winded orgasm rippled on forever. All the pent-up orgasms that had been neglected came rolling out in roaring waves.
I later became aware of Lovello’s teeth sinking into my shoulder as his hips made rigid thrusts until he was empty and limp.
We lay there, sweaty and panting, hearts pounding against our chests, sated. “Although I’ve been a complete dick to you over the last couple of days, I want you to believe me when I say I love you, Axia.” He braced up on his elbows to find my eyes. “I’m sinfully in love with you. I just … I just thought you didn’t love me. And it was painful because I can’t stop loving you no matter how I try. So I figured, if I’m going to be pained while loving you, then I want you to be pained while not loving me … if that makes any sense. I didn’t know you love me. I didn’t know you cared. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
I cupped his face and peered back into his eyes. “It’s okay, Love. I deserved it.”
He vehemently shook his head. “No, you didn’t. You’re pregnant and I wasn’t even —”
“Please, Love. We need to move past all this. I sure as hell do. I’m tired and exhausted and I just want us to be who we once were.”
On a heavy sigh, he stared at me a moment longer, his eyes raking over every inch of my face. Then he buried his face in the crook of my neck and whispered, “I love you, beauts. More than bad habits. More than wealth. More than life.”
“And I love you. More than I ever knew I could love. I’m yours. I’m your branded slave. You own me.”
Truth or Dare?
Truth.
Truth: Lovello Tyler Nelson owned me.
XXXII
The smile that stretched my lips when I woke up the following morning to the feel of Lovello wrapped around me no doubt had me resembling the Cheshire cat. My bladder was begging to be emptied, but there wasn’t a chance in hell that I was leaving this bed. It’d been too long since we’d slept together, since I’d felt his warm body cocooned around mine, since I’d heard his soft breathing against my ear as he slept, since I’d watched him sleep.
Sunlight streamed through the windows, which made me realize that Lovello had skipped his daily devotion. Guess we were both dangling on the same thought. Neither of us wanting to leave the arms of the other. I meant more to him than the Big Guy this morning. This notion made me happy, so I snuggled up into his arms instead and buried my face in his chest to block out the intruding sunlight.
Just as I was starting to dose off, my phone rang. Deciding to ignore it, I let it ring out, because I couldn’t imagine who could be phoning me now. It’s Saturday morning, for heaven’s sake. But the phone began ringing again as soon as it stopped, and I would’ve continued to ignore it, had not Lovello grumbled in a voice groggy with sleep, “Turn it offfff, Axia.”
On a grumble of my own, I rolled over and snatched it off the nightstand. The number wasn’t one I recognized, so I answered in a sleepy voice so the caller would get the idea I was being disturbed. “Hello?”
“Pleasantries, pleasantries, Blacksille!” came a heavy masculine voice down the line.
“Hi … I’m sorry, may I ask who is this?”
“I suggest you get familiar with my voice, young lady, because you will be hearing from me rather frequently. Especially now that you’re carrying my first grandchild.”
“Mr. Nelson?” I said in a more genial tone and sat up in bed.
“Yes, yes,” he replied in impatience. “Don’t tell me you’re still in bed? Why, it’s 9:35! You should’ve been up before the sun, taking a leisurely stroll through that grand courtyard my son has, and catching the morning’s first fresh, unpolluted air. It’s a healthy habit to make, especially in your state.”
Leisurely stroll? Grand courtyard? First fresh air? What era was this man from? “Yes. I guess you’re right —”
“Don’t guess! I am right.”
Oh hell, I had absolutely no idea how to converse with this man. Lovello touched my arm as his eyes flickered open with the question, “who is it?” in them. When I mouthed, “your father”, he gave me a lazy thumbs-up and mouthed back, “good luck”, then rolled over on his side and went back to sleep.
“So …” Marcello continued. “How’s the pregnancy coming along? Have you done an ultrasound yet to check that all is well? Are you taking prenatal vitamins? Is that Hispanic housemaid feeding you healthily? I know how ill this stage can make you feel, so have my son assigned any helpers to you? As a matter of fact, I think I’ll be assigning a live-in nurse to you. Will you be fine with that?”
Before I could even conjure up any answers to his bombardment of questions, he spoke again. “You should know I’m a bit peeved that I had to hear about your pregnancy through your father. The worst part is, everyone in my family knew and no one cared to inform me. Is there a reason why this was being kept a secret from me?”
“I don’t —”
“Oh, don’t hurt your head, sweetheart,” he said. “I’ll take this up with my muddle-headed son when I see him. You just worry about staying healthy and stress-free. What do you say about dinner this evening? I’ve ordered in an acclaimed chef from France to dine us with the best French dishes for the weekend. I’m sure you’ll enjoy his hands.”
I swear, my head was spinning. “Um, yeah, that sounds great.”
“Good! So I’ll see you later, then,” exclaimed Mr. Excitable.
As I was about to move the phone from my ear and end the call, I heard him say, “You have no idea how ecstatic I am about this news. A new Nelson! My family’s growing. Isn’t it amazing?”
This time I couldn’t help smiling. He was more excited about this than Vince. “Yes, Mr. Nelson. It is.”
His voice cracked a bit as he mumbled, “Bye, sweetheart.”
As I ended the call and put the phone on the nightstand, Lovello muffled in his pillow, “Did he give you a chance to speak?”
I burst out laughing. “Hardly. And oh, I a
greed to have dinner with him this evening.”
Lovello spun around so fast with an ‘are you insane’ expression that I almost bounced off the bed. “Not a chance in hell!”
“Why? It’s just dinner.”
“Axia, there’s a reason all of us kept this news from him. We were trying to save you from being consumed by him. You’re carrying a Nelson. He’s going to overwhelm you. Why do you think he called you and not me? Because he knows I won’t agree to his mollycoddling. By the time he’s done with you, you’ll be confused if it was I who knocked you up, or him. You haven’t witnessed how it was with my cousins; Lori can tell you. I can only imagine how he’s gonna be with you since you’re bringing his first grandchild. So I’m keeping you away from him until you’re very pregnant.”
Laughter kept bubbling from me, I couldn’t help it. “That’s insane. He’ll just come by the house.”
“I’m changing the pass code,” Lovello deadpanned. He was really serious.
But he knew his father’s mannerisms and exactly what he was saving me from, so I wouldn’t bother to argue with him on the matter. Hell, that one phone call alone had me overwhelmed.
Lovello tugged my arm and yanked me down to him. “Today we’re not going anywhere. We’re going to stay here and make up for lost times.” Gliding his long fingers over my bare rear, he slid them between my thighs and found immediate wetness. On a sharp inhalation, he husked, “Starting now.”
When we next emerged from our bedroom, starving and thoroughly screwed, it was past noon. Much to our satisfaction, Rosa had just finished preparing lunch.
“I make heavy lunch,” she’d said. “For you skip breakfast, yes? So lunch heavy.”
I’d nodded in agreement at the food loaded on my large plate: baked hen, yellow rice, grilled carrots and fried plantains.
Moments after I’d devoured every grain, however, I came to the conclusion that a lunch like that might have been heavy when I wasn’t eating for two, but now, that was like an appetizer. No joke.
