Masked Definitions

by A. E. Murphy

  “Thank you?”

  “What on earth happened to your arm?” She tilts her head and places one hand on her hip. Her dress is making me envious; it’s a black and white peplum style dress that I wish I owned in my meagre closet.

  “She broke it at work, now come. Leave Olivia in peace. Max is in the games room.”

  No surprise there.

  “Don’t be rude, Elijah. I’m introducing myself to your guest.”

  A muscle ticks in his jaw. He so clearly doesn’t want to be around me right now. I can’t say that I blame him.

  “Let’s have breakfast. Mildred,” Mildred bows slightly after turning to the blonde haired beauty. “Whip us up something special, could you?”

  “Of course, My Lady.”

  Georgia rolls her eyes to her brother. “Still uses titles, I see.”

  “Leave her alone. She enjoys using manners, unlike some.” He rolls his eyes to me after letting that insult directed at his sister take effect. She only seems amused as opposed to insulted. “I apologise for my sister. She’s crass and blunt. Her brain to mouth filter didn’t fully register at birth.”

  “I like it,” I respond honestly and smile at Georgia who smiles back.

  “See?” Georgia grins and moves to stand by my side in a show of unity. “I told you they’d love me.” Her elbow catches me in the ribs. “Well, the wife does.”

  Elijah rolls his eyes once more and sighs heavily before turning to exit the kitchen. “I’ll leave you ladies to chat while I fetch my brother.”

  I watch his back as he leaves, wishing he’d give me more than what he’s giving me. It’s my own fault though. I pushed him away and for good reason. Whatever transpired between us just couldn’t continue.

  “So, how are you liking my brother?” Her question startles me because I don’t take it in the way she means it. Unfortunately, ever since I tainted my relationship with Elijah, even the most innocent of things about him no longer feels innocent. Every thought I have, every word I speak, seems to be layered in thickening guilt.

  “He’s… umm…” I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry as I think of the many compliments I could say about the man I’ve taken into my body on too many occasions. “Generous.”

  She looks unimpressed. “He isn’t generous. He has too much. What he gives doesn’t make a dent in what he takes.”

  “Oh.” I’m unsure what else to say so I say nothing.

  Fortunately Mildred saves the day by offering us both a beverage. I decline but Georgia asks for coffee and then has me direct her into the living area. Apparently this is a home of Elijah’s that she hasn’t yet visited. I wonder briefly how many homes he owns. It isn’t something that I’ve thought of asking but it does make me feel a little better about accepting a house from him.

  “Hey,” Max steps into the area and his eyes cut to Georgia but they mostly linger on me. He looks worried, concern etching his brows, and that familiar nagging begins in my heart.

  It’s easy to recognise the cycle that always happens when Max gets ready to apologise. I know it’s coming. He’ll no doubt purchase a new phone for me and tell me he loves me. He’ll cook me dinner or take me out and caress my body with his tongue until I orgasm or until he gets bored. Then I’ll forgive him because I can’t be bothered to deal with what will happen if I don’t. So when he mimes that he’s sorry after introducing himself to Georgia, I allow his hand to slip into mine and, like the weak minded woman that I am, I move on and forget all that he’s done.

  I release a breath, tired. Elijah just entered, though he pays me no mind. It’s better this way. I just wish that his steel eyes would come to me just once more.

  I see psychiatrists in my future. Expensive ones.

  “He is handsome.” Georgia grins, stepping a circle around Max. “Maybe even more so than you, Elijah.”

  My immediate thought is to disagree. It weighs heavily.

  “You’re only saying that because we’re related.”

  Georgia giggles a soft, melodic lilt. “If you insist.”

  “Told you so.” Max grins triumphantly at his older brother.

  “I’d say that Olivia should get the deciding vote, but she’d obviously choose me. I feel it unfair to play her against her husband,” Elijah jests though I sense sincerity deep in his tone and in his eyes as they finally hit mine, knocking the air from my lungs in a sharp but gentle whoosh. I struggle to draw it back in.

  Max glares at him, all humour gone.

  I give his hand a squeeze. “Don’t tense, he’s just playing.” Though he relaxes, I notice his eyes cast an uncertain gaze between us, back and forth like a tennis spectator’s they go before Georgia distracts him.

  Wandering hands with clawing nails cut at my naked flesh as I try to pull free. I’m trapped in a sea of limbs, nothing but a pole to hold onto in the midst. They grasp at my body, my thighs, my breasts, their moans hungry for pieces of me, all of me. They fight. Wanting. Loathing.

  I’m an object to them.

  I’m an object to him. He with the icy eyes. His cool demeanour and desperate touch that only I seem to elicit from him. His heavy strides carry him towards me in the dark. The spotlight heats me from above and blinds me so I see nothing more than his silhouette and the shocking glint of malice in those cool, grey irises.

  “Take off your clothes,” he demands and the sea of limbs fall away in a wave, leaving nothing behind.

  “Of course, My Lord Duke.” I say, monotone, and remove my last shred of dignity. I peel it from my skin leaving behind my nudity for his viewing pleasure.

  “Glorious,” he comments and takes another step towards me. “On your knees.”

  “That’s right.” Max’s voice hits me like a freight train and his hands push me to the position demanded of me. “Rip my heart from my chest like the whore you are.”

  “Maybe she’d like to stamp on it with her stilettos too?” Penelope comments wryly and kneels beside me. Her face is only inches from the side of mine. “I can’t find the second face.”

  Tears spill from my eyes and though I know they’re there, I can’t feel them. I’m numb to whatever the fuck this is. I’ve been caught and it’s all on me.

  “Are you sleeping with my brother?” Max hisses, yanking my head back by my hair. I feel Elijah’s hardened cock against my cheek for only a second before I’m thrown backwards. “ARE YOU?” Max’s angry, loud voice echoes repeatedly around us all before I’m flung backwards by my hair.

  “Please,” I beg.

  “Are you sleeping with my wife?” He bellows at Elijah and I see him take the first swing, hammer in hand.

  “NO!” I scream, my arms reaching out to shove Elijah out of the way as the vicious weapon flies directly at his head. He hasn’t seen it, too distracted by me at his feet.

  It connects with his head and a spray of black flies upwards. I feel spray across my cheek.

  “NOOOO!” I scream and lunge forwards in an attempt to escape. I hit a warm body and hands grip my arms as tears fall from my eyes. “Let GO!” I shove against the soft wall, causing pain in my arm. My disorientation slowly fades as I register arms around me and a hand in my hair.

  Horrible, gasping sobs leave me, uncontrollable as I try to choke them back. They pain my chest and wrack my body with an agony I’ve never felt. I can’t grasp any semblance of control. Like my life, my body is now falling apart.

  “I’m here; it’s okay.” Hands grip me tight, one at the back of my neck and the other around my back. Fingers smooth against my ribs. “It’s okay; I’ve got you.”

  I feel myself pushed back onto the mattress. My back sinks into it and cool air bites at my stomach and legs as the covers are pulled back and a heavy, warm body sinks onto me. He rolls us to the right and tucks me tightly to his chest.

  “I’ve got you,” he repeats softly, holding me tighter, if possible.

  “I don’t ever cry.” I remark angrily, hating myself for being so vulnerable. “I don’t want you to see me cry.�
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  “You’ve been through a lot.” He pulls back and presses his lips against my forehead. They feel soft, warm and comforting. “I’d be worried if you didn’t cry. Go back to sleep.” His soft voice carries me there, to the edge of slumber. “I’ve got you.”

  “Elijah?” I mumble into the darkness and flatten my hands against his chest so they’re tight between us.

  “We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

  “I can’t live with myself anymore,” I whisper and bury my face into his chest. I inhale deeply, my breath shuddering.

  “Not tonight, not while your thoughts are still irrational and sleep driven.” He strokes my side soothingly.

  “I couldn’t stand it if something bad happened to you because of this.”

  His body stills for a moment before his hand comes up to cup my cheek. “Nothing bad is going to happen to me.” He leans back. I see his eyes in the darkness, full of warmth as opposed to the icy gaze he cast through me in my dream. “And I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you, okay? Whatever happens…” His thumb caresses my bottom lip. “We’re in this together. We’ll figure it out.”

  “Until you find somebody else to take my place,” I whisper bitterly. His body doesn’t just tense, it becomes rock solid.

  “Go to sleep,” he orders, still holding me, though that gentle warmth and calming energy he was emitting has gone.

  “You should go,” I state, realising where we are and what bed we’re in. “Max…”

  “Is at work.”

  “He could come back.”

  “You need me,” he says and he’s right. I want to roll him on top of me and have him erase every touch of that disgusting man from my bruised body. I want to feel every inch of his bare cock sink into my wetness. I’m always wet for him. Always. “I’ll leave when you’re sleeping.” He kisses the shell of my ear and buries his face in my hair. “Besides, you’re warm and I’m comfortable. I’ve had a pretty rough day myself. It doesn’t compare to yours but I’m feeling it in my neck.”

  “If I could give you a massage I would.” A loud yawn rips from me.

  “I’ll stockpile that note for a future date.”

  “Do it. There’s literally nothing that would please me more than being gifted the opportunity to touch every inch of your body with my hands.”

  He hardens against my thigh. I smile into my pillow.

  “Go to sleep.”

  “We could always…” I wriggle against him, trying for humour despite my swollen eyes and puffy face from my mental collapse.

  “As tempting as that is,” he kisses my neck and slides his hand down my side, making me shiver, “I have to be up at three.”

  I check the digital alarm on my bedside table with a glance. “That’s in two hours. Where are you going?”

  “I’m meeting with a friend in Essex at nine.”

  “Business?”

  “And leisure.” He kisses me again and I can’t help but melt at the tenderness of it. “Do you want to come?”

  “Really?”

  There is a pause and I know he’s rethinking his offer.

  “It’s fine if you…” I begin to say just as he says, “It’ll be fun.”

  “Really?”

  His breath leaves him in a laugh, hitting the back of my neck, pushing the thickness of my hair in two directions. Using my good hand, I lift my hair out of the way and turn onto my back as his body finishes shaking with his laughter. “You already asked that. I’m certain I just confirmed.”

  “Will we be back tomorrow night?”

  “Not if you don’t want to be.” Lifting himself onto one arm, he hovers over me and tickles my cheek with his fingers.

  “That’s not funny.”

  “I’m serious. We can stay in a hotel, just you and I…”

  “Max.”

  His body tenses and a venomous tone leaves him as his hand moves from my cheek to my hair, one I’ve never heard from him. “Oh fuck Max!”

  I blink into the darkness. “What the hell?”

  “Nothing.”

  “What the fuck was that, Elijah?” He moves to sitting and I follow, shifting myself backwards up the pillows as he moves to the side of the bed.

  “I’m just tired.” His shoulders slump. I see them fall forward in the dark. My hand reaches out and presses between his shoulder blades, directly over the amazing tattoo that spans his back. I trace it with a fingertip. “I just… Come with me in the morning. We’ll be back by the time Max leaves for work. Okay?”

  I tickle the length of his spine, wishing I could alleviate the tension from his body. “Okay.” He stands, leaving my hand frozen in mid-air. “You aren’t staying?”

  “No. It’s not right. When I sleep with you, it won’t be in a bed tainted by your sham of a fucking marriage.” And with those harsh but true words, he leaves me frozen, just like my hand was.

  Though I should be angry, I can’t seem to muster the emotion. There’s too much elation where anger should be. His words, though harsh, only further serve to prove to me that he doesn’t want this to end, not yet.

  “He said when,” I whisper into the darkness, contemplating whether to chase him. I decide not to; he needs his space.

  I look at the empty space beside me, the space where Max should be, and for the first time I feel no guilt. I only feel suffocated. I wish I could simply walk away but nothing is ever that easy. Nothing. Especially not where Max is concerned.

  The sky is still dark when I climb carefully out of bed and ready myself for a day with the Duke. Despite the fact that Max isn’t due home for two hours, I still creep like the sneaky, awful person that I am.

  There’s a knock at the door before it opens. Elijah steps into the room and stares at me in my jeans and bra as I pull a hairbrush through my long, dark hair.

  “Why is it that you’re meeting him so early?” I ask, trying to break the sexual tension that is heating between us.

  I’m surprised when Elijah moves forward and tugs the hairbrush from my hand. He guides me to the bench seat in front of my vanity table and forces me to sit.

  My teeth sink into my lip as he begins to comb my hair with the brush and his fingers. Goosebumps prickle over the surface of my skin and just this delicate, new feeling is enough to drench the material between my thighs. I close my eyes and moan. I’ve never had my hair played with, at least not since I was little.

  “He’s only available for a few hours and the chance that I’ll see him again before Christmas is very slim.”

  “You two are close?”

  He nods. “We grew up together.”

  “That’s nice.”

  He continues to comb my hair for a few more moments before placing the brush back on the table. “I’ve never met anyone as naturally beautiful as you.”

  I have never felt self-conscious of my lack of makeup. Not until now. “I don’t like to wear it unless I have to.”

  “I don’t blame you and it’s appreciated.” Pulling me to my feet, he runs his thumb over my lower lip. “There’s nothing worse than kissing a girl with that sticky gloss covering her lips.”

  When his lips descend, I catch them without hesitation. My broken hand is wedged between us as my other immediately seeks his hair. Just one simple kiss from him can make me forget my surroundings and myself.

  “Your carriage awaits.” He grins and brings my hand to his lips.

  “You’re very attentive this morning, my Lord Duke.”

  “Is that a problem?”

  “Not at all. I just didn’t want it to go unremarked.”

  His teeth flash briefly before he captures my lips once more. “I don’t know what it is about you that makes you so hard to resist.”

  If I was the type to blush, I’d be blushing. “Ditto. Though your tattoo is a huge part of why you turn me on so badly.”

  His brow quirks as I step away from him and seek out my wide strap vest top. “You like it?”

  “It’s sexy. It suits you. O
ddly enough.” I smooth my top down my waist and pad towards the door. “I wouldn’t have put you down as a tat man.”

  “A tat man?”

  “I couldn’t think of a better term.”

  “Tat man,” he chuckles. This time I think I might actually blush. “Do I get a theme tune?”

  “Stop.” I nudge him with my elbow and he throws his arm around my shoulders.

  After taking my painkillers and packing a few bits for the journey, we finally head out. I text Max and tell him that I’ll be gone for the day, though I don’t say where. I’m not sure how to explain this to him.

  The journey, though long, goes too quickly. Who knew that a car journey could be an excellent way to get to know the man you’re having a sordid affair with? My phone begins to ring the second Max finishes work at seven in the morning.

  We both looked at it but neither of us seems eager to answer it. Elijah eventually reaches forward and switches it off. Then his hand moves to my thigh and squeezes.

  It’s a dangerous game we’re playing, one that could end so terribly I can hardly comprehend the potential fallout, but the thought of denying myself my addiction to this man is just too painful to bear. I should address that feeling, the pain… not yet. For now there’s little use complicating what we have further than we have already.

  “And who is this divine creature?” Elijah’s close friend and business partner, Jethro Bane, is so handsome he’s almost painful to look at. Though he’s not as well kept as Elijah, his scruffy stubble and lopsided collar only add to his charm, that and his slightly tilted smile. His short, nearly buzzed copper hair hides the hint of a tattoo behind his ear and I wonder if it were he that convinced Elijah to ink his skin or the other way around. Out of the two, from what I can tell, Jethro seems to be the wilder one.

  “This is Olivia.” Elijah’s hand at my back fists into my vest. I remain impassive, though the possessive move has lit a fire in me that I doubt I’ll be able to douse anytime soon.