His Obsession

by Sam Crescent

  Stephen switched the light off, making his way downstairs. “If these petitions don’t stop I’m going to have to start revoking membership from Possession. I personally don’t think many men are truly that possessive over their women. I mean, look what happened to Rebecca Black.” He referred to the woman who had been abused by one of their members. They never talk about it, but it was the reason they had started to make more cut-backs on memberships. There were too many people who abused the clubs for their own sadistic means.

  “Speaking of old members, Sean has been visiting Ravage asking lots of questions. He’s starting to upset a lot of customers.”

  Stephen cursed. He knew there was a past to Sean, but he didn’t want to know about it. “I’ll deal with it.”

  “Warn him that if he comes into my club again asking questions I’ll have him removed,” James said.

  “You are aware we haven’t agreed on anything,” Stephen said.

  “I know, but we’ve agreed there are too many applications. I think we need to meet and decide on what we should do next.”

  Stephen made the necessary arrangements as he entered his office. He opened the blind and the window allowing some cold fresh air to come in. When they said their goodbyes, he threw his mobile on the desk. He was getting sick and tired of dealing with something he no longer believed in. Sean was becoming a problem with his own fucking past. Running his fingers through his hair, he started up the computer and pulled the contact information for Sean up. He dialled the number and wasn’t surprised when Sean didn’t answer. Stephen called Lucas, telling him to go and check on Sean with the same information that James had given him.

  Lucas hung up agreeing to go. Stephen turned away from his computer to look out over his garden. He saw Rick the gardener trimming back some dark green bush. Stephen didn’t like gardening and couldn’t care for the work.

  Spinning back, he stared at the picture of his father and mother on the wall. When his father had died Stephen couldn’t bring himself to take the double portrait down. His father had loved his mother in such a possessive, consuming way that Stephen had thought it was possible to love a woman in such a way. After the last twenty-plus years, he’d come to see it was a waste of time. No woman had ever left him with such deep yearning or with the feeling he would rather kill someone before letting them touch his woman. The women he’d been with, he’d shared with other men. There was none of the instinct his father talked about. He didn’t mind watching another man sink his cock into a woman’s cunt. Since none of the emotions his father had was inside him, he found Club Possession hard to deal with. At some point he thought it was jealousy at the fact other men had a woman they felt possessive of.

  “Why the fuck did you leave me this shit?” he said to the painting. There was no answer, and he grunted in exasperation while walking out of his office. He usually hired several cleaners and cooks, but since meeting Ursula, he liked only having the one woman inside his house. Stephen lost count of the number of women he’d found inside his bed wanting to be seduced. He picked his own women and his own playthings. Every part of his life, he found a reason to moan. Life never used to be like that. He loved being part of the whole world where he could walk into a room and command attention instantly. There was a time where he used to sleep with other men’s wives and mistresses just because he could. When he looked back on those times, he felt himself sneering at his own attitude. He never cared if anyone liked him. The only thing he cared about was getting his own way.

  There was some orange juice with the label “drink me” on it. He noticed Ursula’s handwriting immediately. Turning the label over he saw the added message, “You need to stop drinking whiskey. Otherwise you’ll end up like this”. There was a picture of a stick man with a large belly on his back looking sick.

  Stephen burst out laughing. She really did have a sense of humour. He checked the time and saw there were a few hours until she arrived for the afternoon.

  He decided to go and pay Cadeon a visit. Stephen rarely visited members of the club at their home, but he’d made friends with a few members.

  After a quick shower and changing into another white shirt and pants, he grabbed his car keys and drove. The shirt from the night before had been put in the bin. There was no way he’d be able to clean tomato juice from the fabric. They were expensive shirts. He would never dock her pay. One of the few pleasures in his life was Ursula. She would probably laugh at him.

  He pulled up outside Cadeon’s house and saw his friend’s car in the driveway. The gate was open. He put the car into park. Stephen was getting out of the car as the front door opened. Violet stood looking at him. Seconds later, Cadeon walked up behind her, circling his arms around his woman’s waist. Stephen watched him speak to her, and then she left with a blush on her face.

  “She still doesn’t like me?” he asked.

  “Violet doesn’t understand you.” Cadeon came down the few steps to greet him.

  “What’s not to understand?” He shook his friend’s hand, looking over his shoulder to see if Violet was there.

  “She’s gone to put the kettle on for you.”

  “I’m surprised you haven’t got her tied up or something.”

  “Violet is not ready for that,” Cadeon said.

  “And you’re fine with waiting?”

  “I love her, Stephen. If she’s never ready, then I’m fine with that.” They walked into the house together. “She doesn’t know why, for someone with as much wealth as you, you’re so miserable. There is a woman out there for you. She doesn’t know why you are not looking. She came from nothing but fear. You came from nothing but love, and yet you’re both the complete opposite about life.”

  Cadeon stopped talking when they entered the kitchen. Stephen took a seat at the counter as his friend went to his woman. His arms went around her waist once again, and he fell to kissing her neck. The love between the two could not be ignored. Stephen felt like he’d been punched in the gut. He would never feel that with anyone. Violet closed her eyes and leaned back into Cadeon’s touch. The trust on her face was something Stephen had never seen with her. She and Cadeon had fought for everything they had together.

  Cadeon pulled away. “We can sit at the table.”

  Stephen followed him into the other room. Violet came through with the drinks. She placed one in front of Stephen then two in front of Cadeon. Before she moved away, his friend caught her round the waist, sitting her on his lap. He seemed to be fascinated by her waist.

  Stephen thought about Ursula. She was a full woman like Violet, and she had a small, rounded tummy. He smiled thinking about last night only to stop short at the fact she had a boyfriend at home. Violet tapped his friend’s hand then got up, taking her cup, and left.

  “I didn’t mean to interrupt your time together.”

  “Don’t worry about it. We’ve got the rest of our life together. You’re here to visit. What’s the problem?”

  Stephen took a sip of coffee. He only wanted his friend’s company, but he might be able to sort out the problems at the club. Cadeon was a businessman after all.

  ****

  Lucas was pissed off. The mornings were his time to himself. This time he had to find that bastard, Sean. The other man always had a way of spoiling his fun or at least the small amount of fun he could get these days. He pulled up outside Sean’s house and knew the place would be trashed. Lucas was sick and tired of dealing with his shit. Turning the engine off, he walked through the door and was overwhelmed by the stench of cigarette smoke, stale food, and whiskey. There was broken furniture around every room. Lucas knew Sean had no relationship with his parents. He knew they’d set Sean up with a trust fund for him. The other man could spend the rest of his life in luxury, but he took high risk missions by being a bloody operative. That was how Lucas had met Sean, and that was how Sean had met Isabella, his sister. His hands tightened into fists at the memory of her phone call. For the last five years he’d done everything in his pow
er to try to get her back. They had no idea where she was. Sean had promised him he’d find her and bring her home. A groan came from the room on the left. Walking over the broken bits of a chair and stand Lucas found Sean coming ‘round on the couch. It looked like he’d been run over by a truck. Blood had dried on his face from a cut on the eyebrow and lip. There was bruising over the left side of his face. He wore a stained shirt. An ashtray was overflowing with docked out butts. Lucas leaned against the wall and watched the man before him.

  “What do you want?” Sean asked.

  “I’m surprised you’re alert enough to know who it is,” Lucas said.

  “There is something about your condescending stare. I can feel it on me like a load of maggots.”

  This was classic Sean. He insulted others around him when he failed. “I take it a night at Ravage and you’re still nowhere near finding Isabella?” Saying her name still made his heart ache with wanting. She’d been so open and innocent. He knew if they ever found her it would be a miracle. If Lucas was honest with himself, he knew they’d never find her. She’d been taken by people who bought and sold women for sport. How she had managed to get mixed up with that he’d never know.

  “What can I say? No one wants to talk to me. I’m getting close, I know.” Sean looked completely obsessed verging on mad. Moving closer into the room, Lucas almost threw up when he saw a pile of sick in the corner.

  “You smell like an ashtray and look worse. Also, if you go back to the club asking questions James has said he’ll ban you from Ravage for good. You know how hard it is to get your application accepted. Don’t be an asshole, Sean. Stop causing trouble.”

  “I’m close, Lucas. I’ll get her back. I promised you I’d get her back.”

  Staring around him Lucas came to a decision. He stared at the man who used to be one of his dearest friends. “Sean. She’s not coming back. You’ve got to let it go.” He didn’t want to say the words. After five years without a word Lucas knew Isabella was lost to them. He hoped she was happy. He couldn’t bring himself to think of her dead in a ditch with no one caring to lay her to rest properly.

  “Don’t say shit like that, Lucas. I’ll find her. Killing Dominic wasn’t the smartest move. I can feel we’re close.”

  “She’s gone, Sean.”

  “No. Don’t say crap like that to me. I’m going to get her back. Just give me more time.”

  Lucas hated this. Staring round at the chaos, he knew his friend had lost all sense of reality. Sean needed to face the fact Isabella was gone and never coming back. “I know you don’t want to deal with this, but if you don’t stop looking, James and Stephen will ban you from the clubs. I’ve accepted she’s not coming back. You need to as well.”

  Silence met his words. Lucas waited to see what the other man’s reactions would be. Sean threw the contents of the table all over the floor. His rage knew no bounds. Lucas stayed to watch the destruction. He knew Sean had to get this out. Isabella, his youngest sister, needed to be laid to rest even though it killed him to admit defeat.

  “I never should have let her go,” Sean said, sinking to his knees amongst the mess.

  “You did, and now she’s gone. Get yourself together. This is the last time I’m coming here.” He turned to leave then stopped. Fisting his hands at his side he glanced over his shoulder. “Isabella would hate to see you like this.” He left with his words ringing around Sean’s head. At least he hoped they were.

  Chapter Three

  At four o’clock Ursula let herself into Stephen’s house with the spare key he’d given her. She had no idea what happened to all the other cleaners he used to employ. There was no need to dwell on the other helpers. This job meant she could finish college and live comfortably. Or as comfortably as someone could with an abusive slob. She shuddered, thinking about the mess Paul had gotten himself into the night before.

  She’d woken up to find him lying in the chair, cock out and splattered semen over the furniture.

  If she didn’t faint at the sight of blood she’d have chopped his dick off to teach him a lesson about making a mess. Instead, she’d gotten immense pleasure out of smacking two saucepans together to wake him up. Petty emotions but a girl had to get her kicks out of something in life.

  There hadn’t been a car in the driveway. She closed the door, put her coat and bag where Stephen had told her to. Walking through to the kitchen, she prepared some food then began to do the cleaning. Pulling out her phone, she put her headphones in her ears, turned on the music and began to dance. She loved dancing. Ursula moved round the house, cleaning, allowing the beat of the music to take over. Her singing voice left a lot to be desired, but with the music pounding in her ears she didn’t need to listen to the sound of her own voice.

  She rocked her hips to the dance beat, singing as loud as she could. In one hand she held a feather duster, and with the other, she pretended to have a microphone to sing into.

  In her rare solitary moments, she could pretend to be someone different. In her mind she didn’t have a lame-ass boyfriend or spend most of her time daydreaming about the future.

  She twirled round, screamed and fell on her ass to the floor. Stephen went to her, helping her to her feet. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said. Ursula knew the damage was done. The laughter in his eyes along with the smile confirmed her suspicions. He was laughing at her.

  “You could wear a bell you know.”

  “Are you sure you could hear me?”

  The heat spread in her cheeks. “So, you could have done the gentlemanly thing and left.” She got to her feet, rubbing her butt.

  “I never said I was a gentleman.”

  “You live in a mansion. You reek of money and silver spoon crap. You’re a gentleman.” She cried out as he caught her hips in his grip, pulling her against him. He placed his hands under hers cupping her butt. She felt the press of his cock against her stomach. Her mouth went dry while her pussy grew wet with want.

  “I may have money, but never mistake me for being a gentleman. When I see what I want, I take it no matter what the consequences are.” His voice captured her attention making it hard for her to look away.

  Biting her lip, she stared at him, conscious of the possessive way his hand moved down the seam of her ass. She got the sense if the fabric weren’t there he’d be running in between her cheeks. He buried his face in the curve of her neck. She tilted her head to the side to get him closer. Goose-bumps erupted on her arms. Her breathing changed as her nipples grew hard. The bra she’d chosen this morning felt too tight when her nipples swelled with arousal.

  He kissed her neck, causing her to moan. Every touch felt amazing. She was not the woman with the jerk-off boyfriend. She was Ursula Mills, a woman with needs. Slowly, he kissed up her neck to her cheek. One of his hands moved from her ass to cup her cheek. The tenderness in his touch was not lost on her. His thumb rubbed her bottom lip pulling it out from between her teeth. “You’ll hurt yourself if you keep doing that,” he said.

  The sound of the telephone ringing interrupted the moment. She turned her attention away looking over his shoulder. His body remained wrapped around hers. Their reflection in the mirror over on the far wall caught her attention. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail. He’d caught her up in his arms, pushing her breasts high up. She looked like a seductress with a fat ass.

  Don’t let that jerk invade this moment. Stephen doesn’t see you like that. Feel his cock pressed against your belly. He wants you.

  You want him, too.

  She shook her head, pushing on his chest to break their contact. He let her go, and she sensed he let her go with great reluctance. “You’d better answer the phone.” She picked up her phone, which had fallen out of her pocket during her fall.

  He stared at her for several moments then left. Only when he left the room did she let her breath out. Her hands were shaking from what had taken place. They hadn’t kissed, yet her lips looked red and swollen. Turning away, she began to cle
an. The scent of her cooking assailed her, so she put her cleaning supplies away and made her way to the kitchen. Stephen was seated at the counter on the phone. She ignored him, going to the over to check on the chicken. His conversation sounded like work. Turning away she went to the pantry to gather ingredients to finish off the chicken.

  When she entered the kitchen, she saw he’d begun to chop some tomato and cucumber for the salad. “Will you be joining me today?” he asked.

  “If you want me to.”

  Stephen caught her cheek getting her to look at him. “I want you to eat with me. I like your company.”

  “Then I’ll eat with you.” She moved away to grab the chicken from the oven. Coming back to the counter she saw him cutting the cucumber wrong. “Don’t do it like that.” Ursula leaned over showing him how to get the watery seeds out of the centre. In doing so, the long sleeved blouse she’d been wearing came up from the stretch, exposing her bruised wrist. She didn’t have time to cover it up before he caught her wrist, holding it up to inspect.

  “It’s nothing,” she said, trying to extract her hand from him.

  “Nothing? This looks like somebody squeezed your wrist, Ursula.” He refused to let her go. She turned to face him staring into his questioning gaze.

  “It’s nothing.” She repeated the words and hated herself for it. “It was an accident.”

  “Are you going to tell me you walked into a wall or perhaps accidentally walked into a bear and the bear got so angry he squeezed your wrist and slammed it down?” His anger echoed off the walls.

  “You don’t need to be sarcastic. Bears are nowhere near here.” She tried to brush it off by talking about something else. He wasn’t having any of it.

  “Cut the crap, Ursula. I never took you for a fool, so don’t start acting like one.” He cupped her cheek again. “You’re a strong woman. Don’t let this jerk abuse you.”

  “He’s not.”

  “Don’t—”

  “No. Listen. He’s going through a tough time, and he’s not got a job, and everything is getting him down, and—stop me because I’m making excuses for him, aren’t I?” she asked. Turning away from him, she took the seat at the counter. She dropped her head in her hands as her predicament came at her from all angles. He put his hands on her shoulders. She shouldn’t be gaining so much comfort from his touch. Their relationship was strictly professional.