The Drazen World: The Tryst (Kindle Worlds Novella)

by Milana Raziel

  She was rapturous, her long black hair flying wild and free as she reveled in the sensation of every stroke, every touch. I drank it in. When I finally laid a hand on her back, the energy that connected us made me hard—harder than I'd ever been before. Jesus, I wanted to fuck her into oblivion. But I had work to do first. I had to give her what she loved—a red and tender ass to remember me by. I teased her pussy with the tails of the scourge in between strokes, making her wetter and wetter, until I couldn't bear to keep my hands off of her.

  I sat down and dragged her over my lap, spanked her barehanded, caressed her cunt between every stroke and denying her an orgasm. The weight of her body on my cock was a tease—one that was sending me over the edge.

  I asked her for her safe word to confirm she hadn't slipped in subspace, then I laid her down on the chaise and plunged my cock into her, looking for the oblivion I needed so desperately. I allowed myself to get lost in her, reveling in her body, her submission. And when I came back to myself, I left a piece of my soul in her safekeeping forever.

  That unworthy gift given, I gathered her up and took her to my bed.

  MISSY

  What happened between us that night was primal and elemental. But he knew when to stop. His fear was unwarranted and mine was non-existent. I never once uttered my safe word. Rather, I gave him what he needed. He broke me and put me back together. I welcomed him the way I knew I'd always welcomed him if he ever needed me—with my whole heart.

  He laid me out, tied my hands to the ornate curlicues of the opium bed, and languidly fucked me. He worshiped me that night—there was no other word for it. He touched and looked and caressed me with his hands, with his lips, with his tongue. We kissed and kissed, knowing it was our last time.

  And he slowly worked me, sliding tortuously in and out, bringing me to climax at such an agonizing pace it let us linger for what seemed like forever at that razor's edge of orgasm. He loosened my bonds, and I clung to him as we came together with a finality that told me this wasn't domination; it was good-bye. Without words, we said everything we needed to in our secret language of need and trust and sexual communion.

  Slumber found us that way, clinging to one another, not uttering a word.

  I woke in darkness and crept out of bed. I gently kissed his brow and walked out of Jon's penthouse and his life, just as I’d promised I would. We were never meant to be—but it had been glorious while it lasted.

  JON

  Graduation Day

  I rode down the elevator for the last time at the Drake. I got off at the lobby to drop off my keys and say my good-byes to Mario. "Mario, thank you for everything. I really don't know what I would've done without you these last four years."

  "Sir, it's always been a pleasure. I'm just really sorry that you're letting the penthouse go and we won't see you any more in Philadelphia."

  "I'm really sorry to see that happen too. I had my heart set on Wharton, but family comes first." I really hoped he didn't catch the bitterness in my voice as I shook his hand and clapped him on the back.

  "Before you go, someone left a package here for you. I figured since you were coming down, there was no reason to send the delivery person up to the penthouse, what with all the commotion." He handed over a small wrapped package.

  It was covered in elegant marbled green paper and certainly larger than a fountain pen. Well, that rules out Mom. I turned the package in my hands, shaking it. Feeling no movement. Hearing no sound. Heading out of the lobby for the last time, I stopped and drank it in. She was right. It really does look like the Armada's flagship.

  Then I switched to autopilot and made my way over to the stadium where they were hosting the graduation ceremony. Most of the family was there. Notably absent were my mother, Eileen, and sisters Carrie and Deirdre. I know Dee made the trip to Philadelphia. She must've tied one on last night. I probably should have.

  I sat in the SUV, gathering the mental fortitude to deal with the onslaught of bullshit. I really hated these things. Too much family. Too much commotion. Just too much. Speaking of too much, the package was too much to ignore. May as well open it.

  Turned out it was a book. The works of Friedrich von Schiller. A first edition, by the looks of it. The frontispiece was inscribed.

  Our hearts are wild beasts.

  That's why our ribs are cages.

  M.

  One page was marked by a braided lock of hair, finished at either end with tiny blood-red ribbons. That single page seemed to be marred by water damage.

  "If you have never seen beauty in a moment of suffering, you have never seen beauty at all. If you have never seen joy in a beautiful face, you have never seen joy at all."

  I traced the words gently and sat there. Paralyzed. I slowly and carefully reboxed it and hid it under the seat, away from prying eyes. God knew with five sisters and dear old Dad here, there were plenty of prying eyes. After a few deep breaths, I finally stepped out of the SUV, put on my suit jacket, and made my way through the crowd to check in and throw on my cap and gown.

  The ceremony was as expected. Long. Tedious. Pretentious and pompous. Ivy League all the way. The highlight, of course, was Missy's valedictory speech. She spoke of overcoming the odds, hanging on to your dreams no matter what, being true to yourself, and finding inspiration and strength in the strangest of places and the oddest of relationships. I heard her words, and also heard what she was really saying, but I was transfixed by what was missing. Her long hair. She had cut off eighteen inches of her glorious hair.

  I pondered that a while, then I set it aside. It's time to pay attention for my name. They were doling out those ridiculous little pieces of sheepskin everyone had worked so hard for.. Joke's on all of us, because that little piece of sheepskin would only take most of these people so far. Like it or not, the truth was the world was driven by who, not what, you knew, and the Drazens knew everyone.

  I went through the motions of accepting my diploma, shaking the dean's hand, and processing with the rest of the graduates. At the close of the ceremony, the Drazens were waiting like a flock of exotic red-feathered birds, chattering and generally drawing the attention of everyone around them. Well, except mine. Mine was on Snow White. Clad in a chic black suit, the red-soled shoes I should have bought her made her look every bit the sophisticated New Yorker. She was sporting a sleek bob that bared her neck. I knew the two older men she was with: my coach and my mentor. There was no sign of family. That broke my heart.

  I gathered my nerve and made my way through the crush of the crowd, my progress slowed by glad-handing fans and friends eager to congratulate me for pulling out the stops and winning game seven. If they only knew.

  I shook hands all around when I finally reached my objective. Exchanged a few pleasantries. Congratulated Missy on her speech. "Your hair?"

  "I needed a change. It was just too much work. So I donated it all to Locks of Love. New city. New Missy. Can I introduce you to Lucius Montclair? You may have had him for insider trading last semester. He wrote a letter of recommendation that helped get me into Columbia." The shimmer of unshed tears in her eyes said all of this was too much for her.

  Lucius shook my hand. "Drazen, good to see you. I heard you were lucky enough to have Missy as your tutor." He looked at me sharply and knowingly.

  I forced myself to meet his gaze. "Yes, I did. If it wasn't for her, we would have lost the championship. She was amazing. I don't know what we would've done if she hadn't gotten Eddie Milpas through accounting."

  My family had gravitated toward the group and was eavesdropping on our conversation. Fiona and Lucius exchanged greetings, and chitchatted about some people she used to know in New York from her artist days. Missy and I just stood there, going through the motions of polite conversation, looking at each other, never exchanging a word but somehow saying everything. I made my good-byes, thanking the coach for all he had done for me and the team and congratulating him on the World Series win once again, then I had to turn my back on he
r one last time. The banalities had bored my family, and they’d drifted back toward the exit.

  Fiona was the only one who remained. "Jonny, it's time to go. The family's waiting."

  If only she knew what a death sentence those words were to me.

  As we made our way to them, Fiona joked, "Did I just hear the sound of a heart breaking? You and that girl? Wait, Lucius knows that girl. . ."

  "Fiona!" The admonition came out as a strangled command. Jesus. I just used my Dom voice on my sister. Get it together. "Don't even."

  Fiona stopped in her tracks and gave me a look. "Open pledge."

  I kept walking. "Fiona."

  "Jon, open pledge."

  I paused my steps. "Fiona. Fuck off."

  I resumed walking, and my sister caught up to me with a look of realization and pity in her eyes. She laid a hand on my arm and murmured my name.

  "Fiona, I don't want to talk about it. Ever." I couldn't look at her. I was afraid of what she might see.

  "Then we won't. But if you ever want to . . . it's cold comfort, but I'm sure you did the right thing. You always do." She wrapped her arm around my waist in sisterly solidarity.

  With that, I joined my family and my new life of obligation and responsibility in LA. But I left something behind that day in Philadelphia—a world full of possibilities and Drazen-free dreams.

  Epilogue

  MISSY

  Present Day

  LAX

  "Miss Corradi, wake up! We managed to get you onto an earlier flight." Oscar was gently shaking me.

  I roused from my waking dream, clutching the copy of LA Magazine. I put the magazine aside, just as I had tucked away the memories all those years ago. Too many memories ignored for too long. "Thank you, Oscar."

  I gathered my belongings, retrieved the painting from the safe, and made my way toward the front of the Admiral's Club to check out.

  Oscar came after me with the magazine I’d left behind. "Would you like to keep this, Miss Corradi?""

  "No, I'm done with it. Please keep it. I have everything I need." I smiled to myself and looked at the bracelet encircling my wrist like a cuff—a single charm dangling from it. "I definitely have everything I need. Thank you."

  With my future in hand, I made my way to the gate and back to my life in New York—the sapphire-eyed dove winking in the light.

  The End.

  PLAYLIST

  No Stars by Figures on a Beach

  Baby did a Bad, Bad Thing by Chris Isaak

  Slave to Love by Roxy Music

  Wicked Game by Chris Isaak

  I Will Possess Your Heart by Death Cab for Cutie

  Porcelain by Julia Fordham

  Come Undone by Duran Duran

  California Love by 2Pac

  A Nightingale Sang in Berkley Square by Manhattan Transfer

  You Do Something to Me by Ella Fitzgerald

  The Way You Look Tonight by Harry Connick, Jr.

  Landslide by Smashing Pumpkins

  Boys of Summer by Don Henley

  I Will Follow You into the Dark by Death Cab for Cutie

  Kind of Woman by Stevie Nicks

  Oh L'Amour (Acoustic) by Erasure

  Something by DePeche Mode

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  The ideas of "you never experience the same love twice" and "you take something from every relationship into your future relationships" were running through my head after I finished The Lesson. We all know that Jonathan and Monica are soul mates, but I couldn't move on from the idea that Missy and Jonathan had something good to offer one another. It became the story about the one that got away but was also the one that was never meant to be - right soul wrong life. It's a BEA - Bittersweet Ever After. I hope you enjoyed it. Know that Missy will get her HEA too. I promise.

  Christine Reiss, you are an inspiration. The way you force us to think about love and look at it in new ways is rare gift.

  Cassie Cox, you make me think I may actually be able to do this writing thing. You are such a blessing. I thank God that you're part of my writing life and my life. You always make things brighter. Thank you.

  Thanks to my fellow Drazen World Authors for all the support. It's such a grand adventure.

  Thanks to my tribe. You always have my back no matter how hare-brained the scheme.

  Finally, thank you for spending some time with Messalina and her secret someone. Just like all of us, she couldn't stay away from Jonathan. And mea culpa for my artistic license when it came to the timing of graduation and the College World Series.

  I'd love to hear from you. Drop me a line at mrazielauthor@gmail.com.