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The Alastair Affair 3: Dani

Page 3

by Edwards, Scarlett


  I give an unintentional, choked sob.

  Memories of him whipping me.

  Sylvain is at my side in an instant. Concern fills his voice. “Dani,” he says. “Are you okay?”

  I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head. All the wounds on my legs seem to flare to life at once. The pain receptors that have dulled are now firing at full force.

  “No,” I whisper.

  He takes my hand off the rung. His palm is warm.

  He’s warm. He’s comfortable.

  Slowly, he pulls my hand to his chest. He presses my palm to his heart.

  “Do you feel that?” he asks me.

  All I feel is his warmth. It flows into me. It makes me feel less frightened.

  I press my lips together and nod.

  “It’s my heart,” he says softly. “I have one. I’m not a monster who would do evil things to you with no purpose. I am yours, Dani. For the next three months, just as you are mine, I will be yours. And I…” he steps into me. Our bodies are a hair’s breadth apart. “I take that responsibility very serious, Dani.”

  Blinking the tears away, I nod. “Okay,” I whisper. “Thank you.”

  “No,” he says. “Don’t thank me for that. This is the least of the comfort I will give you. It might not seem that way at the start. But trust me. All that I do, every single thing, it has a purpose. I will get you to where you need to be.” He holds my palm tighter to his chest. “I will show you all the things you are capable of. Together, you and I, we will be… spectacular.”

  He looks to the ceiling. His eyes take on a faraway look. “You are an empty canvas for me to impart my design. I would not ever do this to anyone against his or her will. But you… you are special, Dani. I knew it from the moment I read your application. You are what I need. What I’ve always needed. You are who I’ve always sought. And I…” he looks deeper at me, “…I am the very same person to you.”

  I bite my lip and try to smile. That all sounds reassuring… but I did not miss the potential gaffe.

  “His or her.”

  Would Sylvain do this to a man?

  He nods at the opening above us. “We don’t have to go up there if you don’t want. I won’t force you to it. I only thought you might appreciate knowing the trajectory of our progress.”

  “Will you show me the White Tower?” I ask.

  He smiles sadly and touches my cheek. “That, my lovely,” he says tenderly, “is an honor that must be earned.”

  Chapter Five

  In the end, I decide not to go up to see the Rings.

  Sylvain says he has a purpose. Okay, I can trust him. I shouldn’t, probably not after knowing him for so brief a time… but I’ve already committed.

  I can’t back out.

  Maybe it’s naïve of me. No, scratch that—it’s definitely naïve of me.

  But the innocence is exactly what Sylvain is preying on.

  I ask him for the first official tour of the castle. Just to keep my mind off the clock.

  Because every minute that slips away brings me one minute closer to the strange, dark existence I have chosen for myself.

  He agrees. The tour is a very cursory one.

  I get the impression he doesn’t like speaking about the estate.

  “Your father,” I say all of a sudden, as we stroll along a spacious but empty hall. “Did he…”

  I cast a furtive look at Sylvian’s back. Did he give you those? I want to ask.

  Instead, I settle on:

  “Did he ever hurt you?”

  Sylvain looks straight ahead when he replies. His already hard jaw tightens.

  “My father was a complicated man,” he says. “Past that? Well, you and I are not at the level of trust that would allow us to speak of our families yet.”

  “Oh,” I whisper, feeling very much shut down.

  Sylvain sighs. “I don’t want to upset you,” he says. “You shouldn’t think I’m holding back. But speaking of our pasts, at the current moment, sets a poor precedent. When the clock strikes twelve, Dani, your past—and mine—will be forgotten. For three months it will simply be me and you, and nothing more. Events outside this castle will cease to hold meaning. I will be your sole meaning. And you—” he looks over his shoulder at me. “You will be my sole purpose. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” I say softly. “I think so.”

  “It’s probably better for you, at the start, not to think,” he says. “All types of questions will run through your mind. Why is he doing this? What will happen next?” He shakes his head. “Best if you just banish those thoughts. Best for you, best for us, best for our progression… if you simply accept.”

  I nod. “I can do that,” I say.

  A wave of terror rips through me at how easily that consent came.

  But it’s what I signed up for, isn’t it?

  “Yes,” Sylvain says. I gasp when I realize I spoke the thought out loud. “It very much is.”

  **

  A few more hours pass. I spend them growing more and more anxious.

  I ask Sylvain to play the piano for me. To my surprise and joy, he agrees.

  “I did not know you liked the music,” he tells me as he sits before it.

  “Are you kidding? I love it when you play.”

  He smiles. “Then you’re in for a treat.”

  And he starts playing… and I sit there, and I lose myself in his melody.

  The piece is starkly haunting. Yet it’s beautiful. Somehow, it puts my mind at ease. Even through the ominous parts, there is a tenderness to the way it sounds.

  Surely a man sophisticated enough to play like that can’t be all bad… can he?

  No. I don’t think it’s right to think of Sylvain as “bad.” He’s not doing anything without my permission. It’s not like he kidnapped me, ripped me away from my life and my family—

  I bolt upright. My family! What are they going to think when they don’t hear from me for three months? They’ll freak out. They’ll call the police, they’ll—

  “Sylvain,” I say. “Sylvain, stop. Sylvain!”

  The music dies. He looks at me. Annoyance flashes across his handsome face.

  But it’s covered up perfectly a second later.

  “Yes, Dani?” he asks. His voice is a mockery of calm.

  “I need to call my parents,” I say. “And Min. Before the—” I give a tiny shudder. “Before the contract kicks in.”

  Sylvain smiles. “Of course,” he says. He stands. “Come with me.”

  **

  That was easy, I think as I follow him to his study.

  He takes an old red phone out of his desk drawer. He sets it on top. He stands back.

  “Go ahead,” he tells me.

  I lick my lips. Something about his demeanor feels off.

  I come to the phone. I reach for the handle. Just before my fingers grasp it, however, he adds:

  “You should know, I made provisions for exactly this.” His eyes narrow oh-so-slightly. “Maybe our trust isn’t yet where it should be.”

  I swallow. Fear overcomes me.

  Did I already do wrong?

  Again, I can’t back out. One by one, with unsteady fingers, I dial the number to my home.

  I get an answer the fourth ring. “Helllloooo…!” a woman’s voice sings out.

  Hope and joy bloom in my chest. “Hi, mom!” I say. I can’t help the stupid smile from spreading on my lips. “It’s me, Dani.”

  “Dani!” she exclaims. “Ohmigod, my little girl, how’ve you been? Your father and I have been waiting and waiting to hear from you. Min told us you don’t have a signal. We weren’t worried, of course, we know how you can be when you get your nose stuck in one of those books of yours!” She laughs. “So, tell me everything. How’s your summer, how do you like it, what’s the castle like. Is it dark, spooky, mysterious?” She laughs again. “Any spirits haunting the place?”

  My smile only grows wider. Mom’s always been a whirlwind of energy. Ever since b
eating cancer, she’s only gotten more enthused about life.

  I love that about her.

  “The castle’s great,” I say. “It’s big and definitely looming. It has its share of secrets. I have my work cut out for me cataloguing it all. And no, I don’t think there are any spirits here.”

  “Well that’s good!” she says. “How’s everything else? You eating well? I know sometimes you forget to eat. A healthy appetite’s good for you, you know!”

  Mom’s also kind of a food junkie. Well—fruit junkie would be more like it. When she was diagnosed, she went on an all-fruit diet to heal herself. I thought it was kind of extreme—still do—but she claims it was one hundred percent the reason she survived.

  She hasn’t hopped off the bandwagon since.

  “Yeah mom, sure. Eating well, you don’t have to worry about me.”

  I feel Sylvain’s eyes on my back. I glance over my shoulder at him.

  He’s starting to glower.

  He makes a “hurry up” motion with his hand.

  “Anyway, mom, listen. I don’t have a cell signal up at the castle. I’m calling you from…uh, a payphone,” I lie. “Down in the village. Away from the estate. It’s a pretty long way. I don’t know how often I’ll come down. Just saying, if you don’t hear from me for a bit, I don’t want you to worry. Everything’s fine I’m just, you know… lost in one of my books.”

  “Well, I’m happy for you then,” she says. “I know you’re capable, sweetie. I won’t worry. Oh—your father says hi.”

  “Say hi back—”

  The line abruptly cuts off. I look over and see Sylvain’s finger on the lever.

  “Long enough,” he growls.

  I step back. There is a predatory shine in his eyes.

  He comes toward me. “Dani,” he says. His voice is low and threatening. “I gave you a chance to repent. You did not take it.”

  I blink. The blood has drained from my head. My nerves kick up a notch.

  “What?” I whisper.

  “I told you I would make provisions,” he tells me. “And yet you insult me with that… that nonsense,” he boxes me in, “that you spouted to your mother. A pay phone, you said. I already told you—” he pinches my nipple. I gasp at the pain. “That I value honesty above all else.

  “Consider this your one and only warning. Next time…” he brings his face close to mine.

  “Next time, I will not be so lenient.”

  Frightened, I bob my head up and down.

  He cups my bum. “Dani…” he says. “I think you’ve earned yourself a spanking.”

  Chapter Six

  I can’t sit anywhere my ass is so bruised.

  So I curl up on the chair and cry.

  Sylvain spanked me. He spanked me hard. Harder than the whip last night.

  He did it even as I cried out. He did it even as the tears flowed freely from my eyes.

  Not once did I ask him to stop.

  Oh, I wished he’d stop. I wished and waited and prayed that the punishment would be over sooner rather than later.

  But I knew, deep down, that I had earned it. I knew, deep down, that he was only giving me what I need.

  How fucked up am I?

  He left without a word when it was done.

  I’ve been cradling on the chair ever since.

  Eventually my tears dry out. I rub my eyes and wipe my face.

  I pull my pants back up. I wince as the fabric runs over the raw, ruined skin.

  I stand up and stand still. I take a slow series of breaths. My body is shaking.

  But my mind feels…. Redeemed.

  Why am I like this?

  I know without a shadow of a doubt that Sylvain is the only one who can give this to me.

  I look out the window. The sun is red on the horizon.

  It’s almost time.

  My stomach growls. Despite what I told mom, my appetite’s been non-existent the whole trip.

  Maybe Sylvain beat it out of me.

  I leave his study. I don’t know where to go, other than to him.

  I think he’ll like that.

  I wander the castle halls, searching.

  He’s reading in a spare sitting room. Quietly, meekly, I come inside.

  There is only the single sofa. Sylvain does not acknowledge me.

  I walk over and lower myself beside him.

  His eyebrows go up. Lazily, he turns one page of his book.

  “Did I give you permission to sit?”

  I bolt straight up. I glue my eyes to the floor.

  “Mhm,” he says in satisfaction. “I thought not.”

  I wait. My gaze almost burns a hole in the rug, I wait so long.

  Sylvain continues to read. He reads as the last light of day fades into night. He reads as the minutes stretch by.

  I stand there, trembling, waiting before him, not daring to disturb him.

  Why do I do this? I think.

  We must spend one hour like that, two. Maybe more.

  At a certain point, Sylvain looks up.

  “Ah,” he says simply. He pulls back the cuff of his shirt to reveal his watch. “Would you look at that?” He shows it to me.

  Both hands are precisely at twelve.

  “You’re mine now.”

  Chapter Seven

  As so begins my life under Master Sylvain Alastair.

  Chapter Eight

  “Quietly now,” he whispers. “Hush, hush. Come here. Rest your head.”

  Shaking, trembling, I climb onto the bed of the Black Tower and crawl toward my Master.

  “Here,” he says softly. “Come here, lovely girl. Let me kiss you.”

  I lower my head to Sylvain’s lap. He picks up one of my hands. He places gentle kisses down my arm, starting at the wrist and slowly working his way up to my shoulder.

  I shiver in ecstasy. His kisses are divine.

  He does the same to my other arm. Then, he places it gently to my side.

  He leans back, fully clothed.

  In contrast, I am completely naked.

  He starts to run a hand up and down my cheek. Soft, languid strokes.

  “You’re very cold, aren’t you?” he asks.

  I cast my eyes down and nod.

  Two days I’ve been here. Two days since the start of the contract. Two days in which I have been given nothing to eat and barely enough to drink.

  When the clock struck twelve and all of this began, Sylvain simply told me to strip. One by one I peeled off my clothes for him.

  I thought he might burn them again. He did not. He held his arms out for me to hand them over. Very carefully, very slowly, very precisely, he folded each garment, one-by-one.

  He placed them beside him on the sofa. “These will be waiting for you when you return.” He took a look around. “But the first thing we’re going to do is bring you to the Black Tower.”

  He stood up, and motioned to the door. “You know the way.”

  It was a warm night, then. Even so, I shivered. I held my hands over my private parts. Walking through the castle in the nude with a man like Sylvain Alastair at my back was… unsettling.

  And then he left me in the Tower. He’d closed the door without entering himself.

  At first I didn’t know what to do. He did not give instructions.

  I simply stood in place.

  But then weariness started to creep in. I grew tired of being on my feet. The bed beckoned. He did not say I couldn’t use it, so I went to it and closed my eyes.

  When I awoke next, sunlight shone through the single high window of the chamber. I saw a jar of water on the floor by the door. There was a note:

  This is all you’ll receive for the next two days. Ration it wisely.

  My stomach rumbled loudly. Perhaps it understood the meaning of that note before my brain did.

  And so the first day passed. I took tiny sips when I could not hold my thirst off any more. I found a little opening, a drain, hidden in the crook between floor and wall.
/>   I urinated there.

  By nightfall I had explored every single inch of the Tower. I’d examined all the hanging tools. I even dared to run a finger over the menacing axe.

  Time passed slowly. Soon hunger became my sole companion.

  But it wasn’t that bad. A day of fasting was tolerable.

  On day two, he came in.

  He wore a mask. It amplified his breathing. It was black, with two small slits for eyes.

  The more I looked, the more it terrified me.

  He came to me. I was on the bed. Instinctively, I pulled away.

  I did it without thinking. I did it before I could realize it and stop myself.

  It earned me a malicious, back-handed slap across the face.

  I fell off the side of the bed. I tried not to cry. I did not want to cry. I knew I could not speak—he’d impressed the punishment for each word that I uttered in here very clearly.

  He picked me up. I stood against him, hands at my sides. I was hungry, shaking, and cold.

  My cheek burned in contrast.

  “Look at me,” he said from behind the mask.

  I did. Through the slits I saw his eyes.

  “Stay still,” he commanded. “Do not move.”

  I kept every muscle, every joint, every ligament locked in place.

  He walked around me a few times, assessing. He touched my breasts. He pinched the bit of fat on my tummy.

  He slid his hand between my legs and rubbed my pussy.

  My eyes rolled back and I moaned. “Yes, Alastair,” I breathed.

  Abruptly he jerked his hand away. I heard him moving.

  Oh no, I thought. Oh no, no, no no no…

  The first lash took me by surprise. It came hard and fast and swift. I cried out and fell forward from the blow.

  I braced myself for the next.

  I waited… and waited… and waited. It did not come. Maybe he’d only heard one word? Perhaps I’d uttered it so quietly—

  The second one took me right at the moment my defenses softened. Together with the other one, it ripped an X across my legs.

  I could not help but sob.

  He placed the whip back on the wall.

 

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