by LW Barefoot
He approaches me as my nerves threaten to snap. I take a step back but Evan grips my leg even tighter, holding me in place.
“Harper, I apologize for my behavior. When you need me, you know how to reach me, my love,” he admits and presses a lingering kiss to the cheek he hit earlier this week and motions for everyone to leave.
Evan’s grip on my leg cuts off circulation. Anthony’s entourage snuffs out the lit end of their cigars and place their tumblers down before they shuffle out of the room.
Grayson leans forward and takes his bottle of beer off the table and drains it in a deep gulp. He grabs two bottles out of the bucket in a stand beside the couch. He holds the second bottle out to me and I move toward him, taking the beer from his outstretched hand. Grayson twists the cap off when I sit down next to him on the couch.
No one says anything for the longest time. Grayson stares off into space while Evan’s focus is locked on something behind me.
“What did Anthony’s apology mean?” Evan asks me as he immediately morphs into someone else.
I’m thankful his grip is no longer locked around my thigh because he keeps clenching and unclenching his fists on top of the arms of the chair across from me.
I don’t know what he’s upset about. The death of his ex or the insinuations Anthony threw in his face.
I look over to Grayson but his attention remains on Evan. Evan’s deep gaze moves back and forth between the two of us.
“What is it you’re not telling me?” Evan pushes.
His jaw ticks and I’m transported back to the last time he looked like this. Tonight his knuckles aren’t busted. There’s no cane for him to punish me with.
Grayson’s leg brushes against mine to urge me to say something. I swallow back the truth and hope like hell that Grayson backs me up.
“Anthony obviously tried to use Harper against you, he already mentioned it,” Grayson cuts in.
“Nothing happened,” comes rushing out of my mouth.
“Are you sure about that?” Evan insists.
“I wouldn’t even know Anthony if it wasn’t for you,” I point out, even though, it’s not fair to throw at him.
I chose to stay in Evan’s world. I would do a whole lot more to stay by his side.
“We’re going to continue this conversation upstairs alone,” Evan promises and I shiver.
Evan doesn’t say a word when he stands and offers me his hand. I accept it.
The heat from his palm rushes through mine and works its way through my dazed nerves. It anchors me to him as he escorts me back through the party.
The Sculptor
The krewe king’s mask covering my face grants me access through the heavily guarded gates of Evan Hawthorne’s plantation. The remote location and random back roads it takes to locate this estate is the perfect place for solace and secrets.
After Sarah’s little stunt of revealing the truth behind why she and Joe were in Boston and the location of Evan’s plantation, I’ve been able to calm down.
That pressing weight of anger lifted the night I watched Mrs. Hawthorne drink her death-inducing bourbon. Gisele was one more number off the list of people who know who I am. Setting up Joe Hawthorne in his own game was the icing on the fucking cake.
I pet Sarah’s head as we rock back and forth on the gravel road leading to our destination. I keep her head down against my lap when a guard runs a flashlight through the windows of the car. He smirks when he sees her in the compromising position.
I need to be careful because I don’t know how recognizable Sarah is to Evan’s staff.
I marvel at the size of the estate and the number of vehicles littered around the enormous driveway.
It’s evident why Evan has kept Casey out here. Locked away from the prying eyes of his father and the public.
Tonight, I need to learn the floor plan and study the details of the estate. I need to keep myself under control and not have any reaction if I catch a glimpse of Casey.
I park the car on the far side of the driveway, closest to the road.
Sarah looks up at me in amusement and trepidation. I slip a ball gag out of my pocket and secure it around her head. She even manages to smile with her thin lips around the red rubber ball. I push a teddy bear from the backseat in her hands. She tries to refuse, shaking her head from side to side as her grin slips but is unable to go anywhere around the device blocking her movements. I grip her fist around the degrading bear and laugh when she doesn’t let go.
I guide her through my enemy’s home. I love the vision of these depraved people seeking empty pleasure. It’s the most monstrous mix I’ve seen in this large of a group. I could set up permanent shop here and never run out of victims for creative inspiration. Unlike the drunken crowd seen on Bourbon Street, these people don’t need the help of chemicals to unleash their desires.
I smile back at the people who approve of the way I have my slave dressed as she clings to the ridiculous stuffed toy. The leash around her neck dangles. I tug on it cruelly and she complies. She’s dressed in a tacky chiffon number. It covers her tits and ass but she wears nothing underneath it.
I count the number of guards that litter the front part of the house. Even the valets have firearms tucked in their waistbands.
Gisele’s brother stalks down the hall toward us. His presence almost gives me pause, but I’m the anonymous player in this game of ours. His merry band of men don’t look so merry tonight. I’m happy he got the message and proud of myself for delivering his worst nightmare. Anthony’s crew leave in a fog of cigar fumes and potent sorrow.
I pull us through the throng of people and nod in approval when Sarah gets touched by strangers. Tonight is the perfect opportunity to continue training her to stop calling the shots and withholding information from me.
We spend so much time roaming through the multiple rooms while I take note of the doors that lead outside and the men blocking the exits. After weaving through every possible room on the bottom floor, I come up short on the whereabouts of my painting.
I grow bored of watching the partiers and forced sexuality. I pull on Sarah’s chain as we walk in a massive ballroom. Music pounds the airwaves and the more brutal scenes take place here.
“May I?” asks a man standing next to me and pulls me out of my trance within minutes of us entering the debacle.
He motions to Sarah and she starts to shake. She told me she used to have her pick of anyone she wanted in any situation. I bite back my laugh as I’m about to turn the tables on her.
“Have at her,” I say.
“Any rules?” he asks triumphantly.
“Whatever you do to her make sure she holds that bear,” I respond with a grin.
I watch as Sarah gets on her knees and bends over clinging to that damn bear.
“How does it feel to be an object, Sarah? To get used and manipulated for someone else’s benefit?”
She holds my gaze as the stranger uses her. On all fours, she becomes an object on display. I turn away from her intense scrutiny and judgment.
When I move away from Sarah, I finally see Casey. Her presence stops me dead in my tracks. My mind goes blank. My intentions and motives evaporate as I devour her with my gaze. I could have never anticipated the rush of feelings that flood through me at the sight of her.
She floats like an apparition beside Evan. My anxiety and determination spike when I see the gold collar around her perfect neck. My fists involuntarily move as if I’m wrapping them around her throat.
Her hair is no longer any hideous shade of red. Bright golden hues sparkle under dim lights as she moves toward me. She looks like an angel in a den full of devils. Her eyes stay off everything as the couple walks through the room.
My mouth waters and my heart thrums uncontrollably. It attempts to vacate my chest and run after her. She already holds it in the palm of her hand. It takes everything I’m made of to not reach for her. I need to touch, taste, hold…
Thoughts spin through my sic
k mind of all the things I plan on doing to her. Soon, so fucking soon, I promise myself.
I focus on the task at hand. I count and remember each person following the gorgeous couple as they move through the party.
I need to leave, now. After years of longing and loss, this is an overload to my almost nonexistent emotions. Their abrupt presence slams resolve through me.
I take one last look at the reason I’m here in the first place. I control my thoughts on the hand gripping Casey’s waist and pulling her closer to his side.
A large African American man catches me staring. His light eyes take in the mask I have on. He doesn’t move until I wink at him.
In the stupor of my retreat, I hear Sarah whimper. I forgot all about her. As the heat burning through me subsides, I turn back to look at her.
She doesn’t deserve death; that would be the easy way out. The merciless ending of her empty life is no longer up to me. She’s feared abandonment. I’m orchestrating her greatest fear with pleasure.
“Master,” Sarah screams as she gets violated.
Casey is long gone. There is no light in this darkness, I think to myself.
Sarah’s cries blend in with the tempo of the party. There’s nothing new about any of this. I stare down at my well of information and something about her gives me pause.
“Master, please don’t leave me,” Sarah cries.
The ball gag is on the floor where she’s bent over. I observe the way she clings to that damn teddy bear. Tears flood down her cheeks as she trembles and her lower lip quivers.
I’m giving her a chance to live. I’m walking away and here she is begging for me to take her with me.
The rutting stranger barks his release, ignoring Sarah and I’s exchange. The first genuine tears she’s cried since she’s been with me cascade down her hollow cheeks.
The look I wanted from Casey shines brightly through Sarah’s distorted gaze. She should run, or at least, cry out to anyone here other than me. She shouldn’t beg for cooperation from me. But she is doing more than that. Her gaze holds depravation and determination. That one word I wanted to fall off another tongue in this house easily slides off Sarah’s again.
I yank on her leash and pull her up from the floor. I bring her within an inch of my face and stare her straight in the eyes.
“Why the fuck would you beg to come with me?” I bite out.
“Because he will kill me,” she stutters.
Her answer punctures deeper than I would like to admit.
“But I’ll likely do the same,” I promise her with a callous smile.
“You haven’t gotten away with any of your crimes, but trust me, Evan Hawthorne always has and always will. You might kill me, but he’s cruel enough to keep me alive and make me suffer,” she blubbers.
My curiosity gets the better of me.
“Why would he do that?”
“He’ll find out I’m the reason his father went after that slut you both are pining after,” she admits.
I backhand her with all my strength. Nothing changes around us. The thud of her body on the floor vibrates up through the soles of my shoes. The music still pounds as the crowd moves with demented fervor and selfish needs.
“Still want to tag along?” I spit.
Blood trickles down the side of her face as she holds her palm up. Her other hand is on the stuffed animal and it tightens.
“Your hits don’t hurt as bad as his do,” she mumbles.
“Don’t ever fucking talk about him again, do you understand me?”
“Yes, master,” she whimpers.
And somehow I allow her to come with me. She crawls on all fours until I get tired of her pace and make her stand up on two feet. I wonder if the man she’s scared of most would make her crawl the entire way to the car, gravel and all.
Blazing fury burns through me when I realize the same man Sarah is terrified of has my precious Casey under his roof, under his control, and undoubtedly underneath him.
I miraculously suppress the urge to fight my way through the crowd and claim the only person who means anything at all to me.
Evan
Every moan and cry that penetrates the music have Harper squeezing my hand tighter as I pull her closer to my side.
We make it to the second floor without incident or interruption.
I detour from going straight to the master suite. The place we share to rest and make love, that’s not what I have intended for Harper tonight. She lied about her interactions with Anthony. I knew he would try to win her over and I plan to find out the truth.
“Brad, make sure this floor stays quiet,” I say as I pull Harper in one of the guest rooms on the second floor on the opposite end of the house.
I watch Harper’s reaction to seeing the table with candles lit in the center of the room. The dining room downstairs is too exposed for what I have planned for her. She takes in the set up with equal parts curiosity and dread.
I trail my fingers across the stiff muscles on top of her shoulders, sweeping her long hair out of the way. Shivers race up her spine under my touch. I can’t help myself from tasting the soft skin on the back of her neck. Her head drops forward and grants me better access.
I pull her back against my chest in a harsh grip. She moans when we make contact despite the clothes that separate us.
I trail my fingers up the inside of her tight thighs and push her dress up. My right thumb brushes higher to the damp fabric that tells me how much she likes this.
“Take these off and put them in my pocket,” I instruct her.
I hold up her dress as she shimmies out of her thong. The pink satin displays how soaked she made them.
Harper spins around in my arms with her offering dangling from her fingers. She wads them up and waves the wettest part under my nose before stuffing them in the front pocket of my jacket. She arranges the undergarment to resemble a pocket square the best she can.
“You little fucking tease,” I tell her as I swat her ass and bring her palm to me to show her how much I love the scent of her pussy. My mouth waters imagining her taste I can never get enough of. “Strip.”
She complies and teases me further. She backs up as she takes off her dress and slides her bra down her shoulders. Her head down and her thighs pressed together.
“Sit on the edge of the table, gorgeous.”
“Like this?” she teases as candle light flickers behind her and makes her hair glow and her eyes dance.
She spreads her legs for me to get a sinful view of my favorite place in existence. I approach her spread out and on display. I take her lips with too much force and not enough regret. I take her tongue and suck and savor. I hold her to me and drink all I can but it will never be enough.
She breaks my heart with her soft whimpers and harsh nails against my neck pulling me to her. She kills me further with the fierce grip of her legs around my waist that tighten when I bite her plump bottom lip.
“Harder,” she whispers.
I bite and cave.
“More,” she demands.
I give her what she wants as I move my lips to her neck and lick the slim column of her muscles.
“Hurt me, baby,” she requests.
I falter with her endearment. I pull away, wiping the front of my tented trousers and come away with her arousal staining the front.
“Who’s in control here, Harper?”
“You,” she lies.
“You have no idea,” I let it slip before I catch myself. “Do you trust me with the candles?”
Her bravery vanishes and returns within a second.
“I trust you, Evan,” she declares.
I take her lips, barely brushing mine against hers.
“What would you have me do with you?” I push her. I have no idea why I’m asking.
Her eyes flare anew as she leans back and submits as she lays back on the table. A deep exhale exhibits her flawless perfection.
“Make me burn. But I have to warn you, I’m a
lready on fire,” she pants as she waits for me.
Her exclamation drags me in by my balls. She doesn’t manipulate. She doesn’t play games. I fall at her whim and her wish.
“I love you, Harper,” I confess without knowing what the fuck I’m doing as I inch closer to her.
I planned this out to replay and restart my love of hot wax against her precious skin. But she brought me to my knees and twisted the knife in my heart deeper with her exclamation of unwavering trust.
“Then come play with me, Evan,” she offers with a devilish smile across her swollen lips.
I sway and get drunk on the sight of her spread out like the feast that she is. I push her legs up and pull her body down to the edge of the table. I take a front row seat to the most tempting sight I’ve ever seen. I kiss her delicate ankles and leave a path of kisses up her beautiful legs to the one place that makes me delirious.
I was going to burn her so deliciously that she would beg me for it over every dinner we have from here on out, but as I lick across her tight cunt, I get lost and I never want to be found.
My lips caress and give and selfishly take. I chase and chase. I can’t get enough.
She lures me in deeper when her hips start to move on their own accord.
“That’s right, gorgeous, take what you want,” I urge her on.
And she does what she’s told, what she wants. She rides my tongue with abandon and finds out for herself exactly what she wants and how to take it.
Harper
I want to claim that I don’t know what has come over me, but that would make me dishonest.
I ride out the waves of bliss and crave more. My body melts and reforms. It begs for the gorgeous man who holds my heart and licks my release off his full lips. I raise up and taste myself off his mouth. He gives me more and feeds it back.
My hands work to free him from his clothes. I push the blazer off his firm shoulders and hide my grin when my fingers brush my satin panties in his pocket. I rip his shirt away and become wild.
The delicate spot between my legs that was just stimulated and left wanting, throbs at the sight of him. I could get off again with the view of his chiseled abs and the swooping tattoo that claims him as mine.
