Hunting Truth (Orion the Hunter Part Four)

by J. D. Chase

  When he replied, his tone was dark and brooding. “She demanded that I use a cane to beat the solid wax from her . . . body.”

  “Oh,” was all I could manage, but I thought that sounded kind of hot. I knew what cooled wax felt like, and the feeling you get when it cracks and leaves your skin. A mental image of having it beaten off before being ravaged by Lucas flew unbidden into my mind. My pussy clenched so strongly that I almost gasped. I forced the picture from my mind and focused on the screen.

  By that time, a rapid exchange of words was taking place on screen. Neither of them looking happy. I wanted to ask Lucas what was being said but I wasn’t sure it was a good idea. I could feel tension radiating from his body. Whatever was being said, it was obviously causing him some considerable discomfort to watch it back. Movement on the screen caught my attention. Lucas had walked to a chest of drawers and took out a black leather flogger. Man, he looked hot. Again, my imagination tried to take over and I felt myself flush. Get a grip, Issy!

  On screen, he walked back to the bed. His walk was slow, stiff even, as if he was reluctant. This impression was reinforced when he hesitated, flogger mid-air, for a long moment until Ava’s head lifted and she appeared to shout something. Instantly, Lucas’ lifted his chin and brought down the flogger onto Ava’s lower stomach where the wax had spilled. It was difficult to tell, but I didn’t think it had much effect. I’d expected to see chunks of hard wax fly into the air but there was nothing. Fleetingly, I recalled how, just a few hours ago, I was the one lying with cooled wax on my skin and I found myself wondering how it would feel to have it removed with a flogger . . . I started when my pussy clenched hungrily and there was no denying that I’d love to find out.

  I looked to Ava’s face and almost recoiled when I saw how it was twisted into a withering, scornful expression. Whatever she’d said to him, I knew it was unpleasant from the taunting, scathing look that accompanied her words. My eyes flicked across the screen to Lucas. Gone completely was his earlier cocky demeanor and smug expression. He looked thoroughly berated and defeated.

  My heart swelled with compassion as I realized that I was witnessing part of what had caused the end of their relationship. Ava wanted—no needed—him to cause her considerable pain—that was obvious both from her desire to have her pussy caned (surely only something that a serious masochist would demand) and from the way Lucas clearly wasn’t able to acquiesce, despite the serious taunting that he looked to be receiving.

  It was blatant to me, as a bystander—albeit a belated one—that they weren’t sexually compatible. How could they be if Ava truly needed to feel pain as well as pleasure and Lucas was unable, or unwilling, to deliver? Yet I knew that Lucas liked to inflict some pain . . . for example, hot candle wax was hardly painless—especially when dripped upon a lady’s most sensitive parts—and neither was a flogger. And don’t even mention nipple clamps . . . especially when they’re removed! I almost flinched at the memory.

  I didn’t understand it. He was the one who had instigated the pain element of our love making, so he must prefer it that way, yet he’d been unable to increase the severity of the pain, or possibly the way it was delivered, despite it being needed by his partner so much that it led to their eventual breakup. I recalled him saying he’d tried to give his subs what they’d wanted but that he couldn’t. I wondered what he’d done and why he had gone wrong.

  My eyes flicked back to the monitor. Lucas must have uncuffed Ava because she was kneeling in front of him, her arms wrapped around his legs. Her back was to the camera and she appeared, from her jerky movements, to be sobbing animatedly.

  “What happened?” I whispered quietly, unable to tear my eyes from the monitor.

  I heard him draw in a deep breath and when he spoke, his voice was tight. “I’d suggested we end the relationship.”

  “Why?” I asked, although I had a good idea.

  “It wasn’t working. I couldn’t give her what she needed,” he replied, a note of sadness in his voice.

  Since he’d alluded to it, I thought it would be safe to pursue the issue. “Which was?” I whispered as I watched him stroking Ava’s hair.

  I thought that he hadn’t heard me, or was choosing to ignore my question but he eventually replied, “I think you know, Issy,” in a voice that was laced with sarcasm.

  Damn! If I wanted answers, I knew I was going to have to confront the issue head on. Subtlety was clearly not going to get me anywhere. “But I don’t understand. She desperately wanted it from you so it would definitely be consensual. Besides, she looks very feisty and spirited so she’d need a firm Dom to keep her in check. I’m no expert but doesn’t she have to respect her Dom in order to submit?”

  “Watch the video,” he said, simply.

  As if on cue, I watched as Lucas cupped Ava’s face in his large hands and said something to her. I saw her nod and then, after he appeared to wipe her tears away, she sank back on her heels, lowered her head and remained motionless for about half a minute. Lucas barely moved in that time but I noticed he had regained his masterful demeanor. No longer did he look defeated or broken—he didn’t look cocky or smug but simply appeared dominant with his compliant sub at his feet. Is that what he wants to me see? That he didn’t have to hurt her to take control and enable her to submit?

  Meanwhile, on screen, Lucas inclined his head slightly and Ava shot forward, taking his increasingly aroused cock into her dainty hands. Lucas stepped back and said something to her. She instantly put her hands behind her back, interlocking her fingers before leaning in again and taking his now fully erect cock into her mouth. Her head bobbed up and down as his face remained expressionless until he reached out, grasped her hair and began to thrust slowly. My God! That looks hot! He’s totally fucking her mouth . . . I mean totally . . .

  Even on camera you could tell that his cock was sliding all the way into her mouth and throat. My eyes were wide and my throat dry as I watched him speed up the rate of his thrusts. Only then did he show any sign of how the act was affecting him. His chin tilted up and his lips curled back. It looked like he was gritting his teeth and his expression was that of angry ecstasy. Don’t ask me how that worked but I knew Lucas was fully in charge and was taking what he wanted from Ava, exactly how he wanted it.

  “Okay, point made. You didn’t have to inflict pain to get her to submit to you. But does that mean she respects you? Or was she just trying to please you in order for you not to end the relationship?”

  As I asked, I saw him suddenly pull Ava’s head away and hold it at arms’ length. I got the impression that she wasn’t pleased with that because he shook his head as if he were deliberately denying her and he seemed to have to hold her head tightly, perhaps preventing her from lunging forward to finish what she’d started. Again, I didn’t understand.

  “Why did you do that? Surely you were only spiting yourself—you were enjoying it so why not let her continue until you came?”

  I heard him chuckle. “Oh Issy. Questions, questions, questions.”

  I turned to face him and frowned heavily. “Oh Lucas. Answers, answers, answers . . . if you please.”

  He shook his head but his blue eyes were twinkling. “That was how I preferred to establish and reinforce my dominance. I didn’t need to lift my hand in order to correct a sub. She was attempting to top from the bottom—take control, in other words. I took it back. Simple.”

  I could understand that but my earlier questions still irked me. “But how much of that was you reasserting control and how much of it was Ava playing along, desperately trying to keep your relationship going? Wouldn’t it have been better to raise your hand . . . if that’s what she needed?”

  He closed his eyes and sighed. When he reopened them, they locked on to mine. I saw honesty and respect in them. “Trust you to see straight to the bare bones of the issue. Yes, that’s exactly why I called time on our relationship because I finally figured out that’s exactly what she was doing. I genuinely believe that she didn
’t consciously know it either. But once I raised it, I think she realized it too, although she still didn’t want us to break up. But, like I’ve said before, I just couldn’t give her what she needed.”

  He sounded a little flat. I wondered whether he considered it a failure—it sure sounded like it. I knew he didn’t like to fail at anything, so again, I wondered why he’d seemingly given up so easily. When I’d tried talking to him about it before, he’d clammed up and I’d let it go. Seeing as he was being so open and honest, I decided to push for an answer.

  “Why couldn’t you?” I whispered. As soon as I’d asked, I regretted it. His expression hardened and, although he didn’t move, it felt like he’d distanced himself from me. Don’t ask me how but it was like an invisible barrier had sprung up between us.

  “Because I didn’t want to hurt her . . . and yes, before you say it, I know that she wanted me to . . . and I did try, before you say anything. I tried, against my better judgment, to get over it using a cane, and . . . well, let’s just say it didn’t end well.”

  “With Ava?” I blurted. I don’t know why I needed to know . . . I just did.

  His eyes were stony cold under his frown. “Yes. Okay? It was with Ava. Now are we done or do you have any more questions?”

  I narrowed my eyes at his sarcastic tone then raised my chin defiantly and attempted a completely benign expression. I couldn’t resist asking a final question, out of annoyance as well as curiosity. Besides, I told myself haughtily, if he’d invited further questions, he could hardly refuse to answer it. “Yes, thank you. When you tried caning, what happened for it not to end well?”

  I saw his jaw muscles tense instantly. “Are you stupid? Why don’t you get that I don’t want to talk about it?” he snapped viciously, pinning me with eyes as hard as granite.

  My insides shrank at his venomous outburst but outwardly I glared back and spoke through gritted teeth. “You asked if I had any more questions so I asked one. But more importantly, Lucas, the whole thing is fucked up. No—you’re fucked up. There’s more to this than you’re letting on, I just know it.”

  His lip curled, like a dog about to attack, and I swallowed hard, wondering whether I’d finally gone too far. “I’m fucked up? I’m no shrink, Issy, but I doubt that anyone would say that a man who didn’t want to physically abuse . . . and maybe as a result, mentally abuse women was fucked up. And don’t give me that bullshit about it being okay because it’s consensual.”

  He advanced towards me as he continued, looking more like a deranged rabid animal by the second and I found myself backing away until I met resistance. My back was against the wall and still he kept advancing until his face was millimeters from mine, his voice getting louder and angrier by the second.

  “There is no excuse for hurting and maiming women. Those who do are nothing more than animals and they deserve a bullet to the head. Most Doms are glorified abusers, assaulting women under the pretense that it’s consensual.”

  I was barely aware of the cool wall at my back or his hot whisky-scented breath on my face. My attention was focused on his words, which were almost shouted, despite his proximity to my face and his menacing expression. His eyes were black and hard, his soft lips twisted almost beyond recognition into a cruel frame for his venomous mouth. He spoke mostly through gritted teeth, his jaw muscles taut, making him look unhinged. He truly looked like a man on the edge.

  At that thought, a memory jangled in the back of my mind. I tried desperately to access it but his continued ranting made it difficult. It was only when I heard him asking me whether I thought that he was some sort of monster that I grasped it. I’d called Lucas a monster after Joel had paid me a visit, warning me of Lucas’ inability to keep his temper and telling me of Lucas’ violent past—and how he killed his mother. Am I about to see him lose it? Am I in danger? Is that why my brain has triggered that memory?

  I could hardly think straight with Lucas shouting in my face but I knew Joel’s words were part of his sick and twisted agenda. He’d carefully crafted his warning message using half-truths, and I believed Lucas’ version of events without question. Besides, I didn’t feel threatened by Lucas. I didn’t feel that I was in danger. Sure, I felt uncomfortable—who wouldn’t with someone going off on one over nothing? But it isn’t nothing to Lucas! And what the hell has that got to do with Joel?

  Something dragged me back from my musings. I realized that Lucas was no longer shouting. What I didn’t realize at first, because his face was too close for me to focus on it properly, was that he had tears running down his face. And then I knew, don’t ask me how, I just did. I wrapped my arms around him but didn’t say a word. Once he’d stopped sobbing, I insisted that we left the club in Carter’s capable hands and went back to the Orion Building.

  Chapter Twelve

  The next morning, I was awoken before 7 a.m. by yet another call from a very anxious Angel, demanding to know whether Scott had been found. Apparently Chad was beside himself with worry because of the impending tour, and kept asking how they could go on tour without a drummer. As I told her I had no news to report, I mentally gave him the benefit of the doubt, by assuming that he was also worried about his good friend and roommate’s wellbeing. Then Angel wanted to know whether Lucas was still meeting with the guy from the record company that afternoon. Crap! That’s today? I promised, yet again, that I’d call her the moment I knew anything.

  I’d noticed immediately that I was alone in Lucas’ bed. I pulled on a tee shirt and sweatpants and sauntered off to his gym to find him, noting with pleasurable satisfaction upon each step that I was deliciously tender in certain places. When I reached it, the huge room was silent and empty. I’d been sure I’d find him there, taking out his stress and anger on the equipment. I then checked the kitchen but that was empty too. I desperately wanted a coffee but I’d started to feel uneasy. The night before, when we’d returned from the club, Lucas was quiet and somewhat withdrawn. I’d given him some breathing space, knowing instinctively not to force him to talk about it. I hurried back to the bedroom, wondering whether I’d done the right thing by leaving him to his thoughts. I tried calling his cell but there was no reply. I called Daniel and asked him where Lucas was but he said he’d not seen him. I didn’t have Carter’s number so I asked Daniel to contact him and let me know whether Carter knew where Lucas was.

  I had an unexplainable feeling that something was wrong. I decided to shower and dress so that I’d be ready—although goodness knew what I needed to be ready for. As soon as I stepped into the bathroom, I could see that Lucas had showered recently—his almost dried footprints were just visible on the floor and the shower screen was still covered in water droplets. I wondered how I’d slept through him getting up, showering and dressing. I guessed that the stress of the previous day had wiped me out—well, that and the marathon lovemaking session with Lucas once we’d returned to his apartment.

  I showered and dried my hair quickly, then dressed in navy pants and a coordinating cashmere sweater. I chose my smart-casual outfit deliberately, not knowing where I might be going but my gut told me that I’d be needed.

  Daniel called as I was finishing my makeup and informed me that Carter wasn’t answering his cell either. He’d tried both of them several times but without success. He then informed me that Lucas had a meeting that afternoon with the music industry mogul. So I knew Lucas hadn’t cancelled the meeting, but I still didn’t know whether he intended to attend. I took note of the time and venue of the appointment from Daniel and asked him to let me know if he heard from Lucas.

  I sat down on the bed feeling discombobulated. I really wanted to visit mini-Dakota and check on how the second apartment was progressing, but I was too jumpy to leave the apartment in case Lucas came back while I was out. I decided to look over my designs for the remaining apartments in an effort to feel productive but mainly as an attempt to keep my mind occupied.

  I soon had my designs spread all over the lounge floor along with samples a
nd color charts and became engrossed in my work. When I was satisfied, I sat back on my heels and surveyed the ordered chaos. I loved my job—especially since I got to work on mini-Dakota, the place I’d soon call home, along with Lucas. Then it hit me like a lightning bolt.

  If Lucas was forced to give in to Joel’s evil blackmail attempt, then none of it would happen. Joel would own the building . . . and the one I was sitting in. Suddenly I felt sick. I noticed that my hands were shaking and angry tears threatened to leak from my eyes. Frustration surged through me at the unfairness of it all. For a second, I was tempted to tear up all the designs so that Joel wouldn’t benefit from any more of my hard work but common sense prevailed and I refrained—just. Finally, the tears began to fall. It was all such a mess. Get a grip, Issy. There’s nothing to be gained from sitting here crying like a baby. Oh shut up! Great—now I’m arguing with myself! Argh! Seeking a distraction, I stood on shaky legs and went to get a drink of water from the kitchen.

  I heard the private elevator arrive as soon as I turned into the hallway. It could only be Lucas. I ran, planning to jump into his arms the moment he stepped out but when he did, I saw that Carter was with him and what I’d intended to be a graceful leap into my lover’s arms, turned into an ungainly stumble as I hastily tried to cancel my plan at the last moment. Slam! I hit Lucas’ chest, knocking the breath from his lungs.

  “Whoa!” said Carter, clearly amused as Lucas turned away and bent over, fighting for breath.

  “Crap!” I muttered, ignoring Carter. “I’m sorry, Lucas. Are you okay?”

  A minute or so later, he straightened up with a bemused expression on his face. “Sure. And yes, I missed you too, honey,” he whispered, smiling so that his eyes creased and made me melt.

  Carter’s mouth twitched before he excused himself and walked down the hallway, presumably to give us some privacy. I wondered if anything fazed him, after all he wasn’t used to seeing Lucas with a girlfriend and yet he seemed more comfortable than we were in his presence.