by A. J. Snyder
I felt like we were finally making progress tonight, and then I went and fucked it all up.
A feral scream tears from my throat as the scalding water cascades down my body, turning my skin into a bright, cherry red. Mumbling to myself and counting the tiles on the wall beside me, I scrub and scrub until I can no longer stand it, my skin too raw and sore to endure even my own touch.
Cranking off the faucet, I put my palms against the tiled wall and take deep breaths in and out. I should feel better by now, but I don't. I think I feel even worse than before.
A simple touch from the girl I'm infatuated with sent me off the fucking deep end. I've never been able to stand being touched since I was a kid and all the bad things happened to me. My brain associates touch and love with pain and torment, and rightly so given my fucked-up childhood.
I had a lot of people hurt me in my past. I'm mentally and physically fucking scarred, and there is nothing in the world that can ever erase the suffering I endured as a scared, little boy.
The last thing I wanted was for Adeline to see me like this. More than anything, I'm embarrassed that she witnessed me in that fucked-up mental state once again.
After my breathing calms down and my heart stops threatening to beat out of my chest, I climb out of the shower and dry off. Then I grab the clothes from the floor and neatly fold them before placing them in the empty dirty clothes bin.
I hang up my towel on a drying rack before going to my closet for something to wear. I pull a simple, dark Henley shirt over my head and then slip into a pair of black boxer briefs and black lounge pants.
I hardly ever dress so casual, but I'm not feeling like my usual fucked-up self at the moment. I suffered a major panic attack, and thinking about facing Adeline again makes me sick to my stomach.
Retreating into the bathroom once more, I go through my regular after-shower routine of brushing my teeth and rinsing with mouthwash, putting on two different kinds of deodorant under my arms, styling my hair until every single hair is in its perfect place and then washing my hands seven times with antibacterial soap.
As I'm drying my hands, I stare at my reflection in the large mirror. A grimace appears on my face, and I shake my head. I'm fucking disgusted with myself and the way I acted.
It's not like it's the first time someone has touched me when I didn't want them to, but I sure as hell never lost my shit like I did tonight.
Why did her touch bother me so much even though I've been foolishly yearning for it since she arrived on the island? Why is everything so different with her?
Am I secretly hoping that there could be something more between us than just what I purchased from her?
No.
I shoot that idea down right away. I'm incapable of having more of a relationship with her…or anyone, for that matter. No. Adeline simply caught me off guard. I have to convince myself that that's all there is to it. Nothing more.
* * * * * * *
LATER THAT NIGHT, when I know she's in bed, I sneak into Adeline's room and watch her sleep.
She looks like an angel lying there surrounded by the white sheets, her thick, dark lashes dusting her delicate cheekbones and her long hair draped over the pillows. Her chest gently rises and falls, and the rhythmic sound of her deep, even breaths somehow soothes my dark soul.
She's so fucking beautiful that it hurts to look at her, like staring into the sun.
I move closer to the bed just as her delicate brows furrow and her breathing picks up.
And then I hear my name on her lips.
"Lucien," she whispers before a sharp gasp.
For a moment I think she's awake and saw me watching her sleep, but her eyes remain closed. She's having a dream…or perhaps a nightmare.
My hand automatically reaches for her, but I stop short of touching her. Instead, I hush her and tell her that everything's going to be okay.
Eventually, Adeline's features smooth out, and she relaxes once more into a deep sleep. She doesn't utter my name again, and I'm glad for that.
Taking one last lingering gaze at the sleeping beauty, I quietly leave her room.
Even though Adeline may look like she just stepped out of a fairy tale, I can't let myself believe that I'm her Prince Charming.
I'm nothing more than the dark villain in her story.
And my black soul can never be redeemed.
CHAPTER 17
ADELINE
THIS IS CRAZY.
I keep repeating those words over and over again in my brain. They ricochet off the sides of my skull and come back like a boomerang.
I'm making the finishing touches on the makeup I borrowed from Maria, and then I stand back from the mirror to admire the final product.
My eyes are smoky and alluring. My lips are brushed with a glossy pink lipstick. My body is covered in a black and green lace chemise complete with matching thong, and black stockings. And my long, chestnut-brown hair is falling down my shoulders and back in soft waves.
I don't look like myself. I look like another person entirely. And that feeling of taking on another persona is the only thing that's going to get me through tonight. I have to detach and become someone else, or I'll never make it out of here mentally intact.
I slowly skim my hands down the length of my body. I'm trembling with anticipation…mixed in with a little bit of fear.
Tonight is the night.
I made the unconscionable decision days ago that I'm going to finally give in to Lucien.
Things have been strained between us ever since the other night when Lucien freaked out when I touched him, but I'm hoping that this outfit will change his mind.
I can't keep on living here in this life with my captor, who flies off the handle at any given moment. How long before he hurts me…or kills me?
He promised to let me go if I gave him what he wants. And my virginity is not worth an eternity in this monotonous hell. The solitude and utter lack of stimulation from the outside world have been driving me insane. I would rather just get this whole thing over with and deal with the consequences to my mental state later if it means getting to go home.
I've come to terms with the fact that Lucien's not going to rape me. In fact, he hasn't laid a single finger on me since I arrived…but I think that might have more to do with his strange affliction to being touched. He told me I had to come to him willingly, and I finally feel like I'm ready. I just hope I can convince him of that.
In less than twenty-four hours, I could be on my way to see Giovanni again. In my dreams, I picture him distraught from not being able to find me and welcoming me home with open arms.
But in my nightmares, I come home to a disgruntled father and a devastated fiancé. What if they blame me for what happened to me? What if Gio never truly forgives me?
No.
I refuse to think like that any longer.
The sooner you give me what I want, the sooner you can leave.
I stare at my reflection one last time and whisper to myself, "You can do this."
It's amazing what solitude can do to a person. I have spent the better part of the day reevaluating my life.
I always thought my father was protecting me from all the evils in the world and that I was one of the luckiest girls on the planet. I'm beginning to think the exact opposite now. And the more I dwell on it, the angrier I become. I'm starting to finally see my life differently and not through the rose-colored glasses I once wore.
My father was abusive. I've never put the way he punished me in such a harsh way before, but when I think back to the many times he beat me with a belt for the smallest transgression, yes, I think abuse is the perfect way to describe it now.
Sometimes I think he just needed to take his anger out on someone. My sisters once told me our father blamed me for our mother's death. I never believed it…or maybe I never wanted to believe it. But now I think it's true.
My mother had a lot of complications during the delivery. She passed away soon after I was born,
and I never had the chance to meet her. I like to think that had she never died, my life would be completely different. But maybe she lived under my father's thumb as well…and maybe nothing would have changed.
I saw Giovanni as a savior, but didn't truly know the reason why I felt that way. I was stuck in denial. Denial of my father's treatment towards me and denial of how desolate my life truly was.
Take away the fancy clothes and charity events, and you're left with a girl who had the weight on her shoulders to perform and to be perfect. And very much like a bird with its wings clipped, so that it can't fly away, I too was put in a cage and locked away.
I used to think all of that was normal, but maybe it's because it's the only way I truly ever knew how to live. I never had any friends….unless you consider a nanny or tutor a friend.
I was never allowed outside to explore on my own, constantly surrounded by bodyguards and security. I never even kissed a boy or held hands before my father suddenly thrust Giovanni into my life. And once again, the choice of who I could marry was taken away as well.
I think in time I could have grown to love Giovanni. He would have taken care of me, and I think he was fond of me as well. But now I'm not feeling too sure about that either.
This isolation has put everything in my life into a different perspective, and I feel myself slowly crumbling away. I've never felt so dejected before in my entire life. At least I was happy in my naïve little bubble before I came here. But now I'm starting to wonder if I even want to return home if I can escape from this place. Could I possibly start over, make a life for myself, a life that I want and make choices that I choose? Is that even possible? If my father thinks I'm dead…maybe it is.
Tonight, I shall suffer with Lucien, but tomorrow I will be a free woman. And if he really does give me the million dollars, I won't even have to return to New York right away.
Maybe I'll go somewhere and start a new life, a place where I can choose who I want to marry. A place where I can be whoever and whatever I want.
Then I won't have to worry or face the consequences of what happened to me. I won't have to face my father or Giovanni until I so choose.
And I won't have to see the look of disgust on their faces when I tell them what I did in exchange for my freedom.
Tears fill my green eyes, but I quickly blink them away. "No time for crying now," I tell my reflection in the mirror. "You're on a mission."
I'm going to seduce Lucien tonight.
CHAPTER 18
LUCIEN
I CAN SENSE a change in her the moment I enter the room. Earlier, I'd watched her on the camera feed picking out a sexy outfit to wear, perfecting her hair and makeup in the bathroom and then concealing the lingerie under a silk robe before I came to her bedroom for dinner.
As we eat, I have to fight to keep a smirk off of my face. My little captive is ready to play, and I couldn't be happier. After waiting a week for her to come around, I'd almost grown bored of our situation.
I'm hoping once she finally agrees to give me what I want, I can send her on her way and never think of her again.
She's definitely become more than just an obsession to me.
She's become an unwanted distraction.
Even though it's been nice to suppress most of my dark thoughts when I'm around her, I haven't been myself. And that's scaring the shit out of me. I mean, I watched her sleep the other night for fuck's sake. That's not me. That's not who or what I am. And Adeline makes me forget who I am.
Not that that's a bad thing sometimes. But I need control. I need order.
And she makes me feel reckless and helpless all at the same time. If only she knew how much power she actually holds over me…
Adeline picks at her dinner, barely eating more than a few bites. I know she's nervous and anxious, but the bastard in me refuses to give in and make things easy on her. So, I take my time eating, even though I can't even taste a damn thing. My mind is on overdrive thinking about all the things I want to do to her tonight.
She's made me wait so long, and I intend to draw this out for as long as possible. Besides, she might be the last one before I bring the Valenti empire to the ground. I may as well enjoy my last taste of the forbidden fruit while I still can.
Adeline picks up her wine glass, her hand trembling at first until she forces it steady. I act like I don't notice, but I notice everything about her. Every. Single. Thing.
She doesn't sip the wine. She practically gulps it down. And while that would normally make me nauseous, it only adds more fuel to the fire stoking inside of me.
I want to make her fear me. I want to make her tremble under me when I shove my cock into her soft, tight cunt for the first time.
I don't ever remember wanting anything more than her. And I'm practically salivating over the thought of taking her and making her mine.
Wrapping my fingers around my own wine glass, I take a few sips to calm the beast trying to take forefront in my mind. I need to bide my time. Let her come to me. And then, once she lets her guard down, I'll strike like a predator lying in wait.
"Enjoying the wine?" I ask her when she polishes off her glass in no time at all, not even allowing herself to enjoy the taste of the expensive and vintage burgundy.
She holds her fingers up to her lips to cover a shy smile. "Yes. Sorry." She places her glass back on the table. "I know you don't like that," she adds in a whisper.
Inclining my head, I stare at her in interest. Maybe I've gotten it all wrong. Maybe I'm not the only one studying the other's every move.
She's acting like she's gotten to know me in our short time together, but she couldn’t be more wrong. She's only scratched the surface to my deviance.
I watch her closely as she picks up a strawberry, dips it in whipped cream and brings it to her mouth. Her pink tongue slides out between her full lips to lick at the white cream, and I can barely contain the groan threatening to escape my throat.
She's doing all of this on purpose to entice and tease me.
And, fuck, she's doing a great job at it.
My eyes track the movement of her tongue. I'm completely enamored as her lips part and her perfectly straight, white teeth sink their way into the flesh of the strawberry.
I'm practically squirming in my seat even though this is not how this game is supposed to be playing out. I'm supposed to be the one making her squirm, not the other way around.
Forcing my attention away from her, I pick up my own strawberry and bite into it. It's juicy and sweet, and now I can imagine her lips tasting the same.
Fuck. Me.
I close my eyes and try to focus on other things, but it proves to be nearly impossible. When I open them back up, Adeline is staring at me with a come-hither look from across the table.
I make no movement to go to her, demanding control of this situation even if I've never felt more out of control than this exact moment. After a few seconds of tension-filled silence, I watch, frozen in my chair, as she slowly stands and reaches for the sash of her robe. With only a brief hesitation, she undoes the bow and slips out of the robe, the silky material whispering as it falls to the floor behind her.
My eyes greedily peruse her gorgeous body wrapped up in black and green lace and her legs covered in black stockings. "Fuck, you're beautiful," I whisper the compliment and am surprised when she gives me a shy smile and a subtle shade of pink creeps across her cheeks.
I stay seated, allowing her to run the show…at least for now. I need her to feel confident and safe and in control even though it won't last long, unfortunately, for her.
Adeline takes a few steps towards me, her luscious tits practically pouring out over the top of the lingerie. She looks like a special, sexy package that I want to unwrap. "I want you to strip for me," I tell her in a demanding whisper. "Slowly."
As she stands before me, I can practically feel the edginess and fear coming off of her in waves.
And it turns me the fuck on.
She rolls
the stockings down her long legs, and I watch her, mesmerized by her every movement. I've never had a woman captivate me so much as Adeline has. I know I should be worried by the alarm bells going off in my head that this is going to end badly for me, but I ignore them and continue with this dangerous game I've been playing with this gorgeous creature.
When she slowly pulls the chemise up over her taut, lithe body, my growing erection presses painfully against the zipper of my pants. I welcome the biting pain, though, because it distracts my inner beast from taking over.
I don't want to scare her…just yet.
The chemise drops to the floor, and Adeline's hands modestly cover her breasts as she stares at me with apprehension lacing her features. She's standing naked before me in only a thong, her delicate throat working over a nervous swallow.
Standing from my chair, I slowly saunter over to her. I stop behind her, towering over her small, petite frame, and I can feel the nervousness practically coming off of her in waves. She seemed so damn confident when I first entered the room, but now she's trembling. I need to warm her up to the idea of me taking her tonight, and I know just the way.
Steeling myself, I inhale a deep breath before releasing it while I try to mentally prepare for what's about to happen. I don't like to touch the women I buy, but, unfortunately, some contact is necessary in order for me to get what I want.
I absolutely abhor being touched, a fear that stems from my fucked-up past. But as long as I remain in control of what's happening to me, I can tolerate some things.
"Hands at your sides, fingertips touching your thighs," I instruct her, my breath skating over the shell of her ear. Once she's done as I've said, I tell her, "Don't move. Understand?"
After I get a nod of compliance, I step behind Adeline, my hands shaking as I reach for her. I force them steady as my hands skim over her hips and move up to cup her breasts. I hiss out an unsteady breath. They fit my palms perfectly, and they feel soft, like silk.
