by Faye Pierce
It’s surprising to see how gentle he can be. How he talks to his sister is different than how he talks to everybody else.
His fingers dive a little bit deeper to spread me open. His tongue moves slowly from my knee to the juncture of my thighs
I don’t dare move. It will only encourage him to do more.
“You don’t have to say anything. Your screams will be loud enough to rattle the windowpanes,” Caspian says.
“Contrary to popular belief, you’re not God’s gift to every woman. I can think of ten other guys I’d rather be with right now,” I embellish the truth.
I want to see how his ego will respond.
“You’ll be singing a different tune in a few minutes,” Caspian insists.
I sigh deeply when the nightgown is stripped from my body. It makes me tremble with concern for my safety, but I don’t feel the need to rush to the door to find some kind of escape.
He opens me up with his fingertips and applies the right kind of pressure with his tongue. The marks left on my shoulder are a brief reminder of how he doesn’t take no for an answer. He has me by the ankles, and I’m grateful to be limber when I see them on either side of my head.
A long swipe of his oral digit has me on edge. The first plunge of his lengthy instrument gives me a reason to believe the rumors are true about his prowess in the bedroom.
He’s a renegade charging my castle walls. I’m unprepared for the onslaught. He charges in, but somehow his technique leaves me panting with droplets of sweat sliding between my breasts. They tickle.
My body heaves and bounces up and down against his face. It’s not the slow buildup that I’ve experienced in the past. Instead, it’s a steady progression to the melting point. My eyes close, and I revel in the experience until we are suddenly on the floor.
He’s still darting his tongue in and out of my sopping wet desire for him.
The first orgasm rocks me to my foundation. It barely subsides when a second one is right on its heels. I don’t think it can get any better, but my body is manipulated into pleasurable convulsions over and over again. My focus becomes blurred, and my hands scratch at his skull, but I feel something nudging at me.
I blink and see him hovering in a familiar position. He looks at me before using the strength of his hips to bury the full extent of his manliness within my tight sheath.
My mouth is open in complete denial and shock, but I can’t seem to shake this feeling of an earthquake about to happen. He doesn’t move and allows me to adjust to his thickness and size.
“I knew there was a passionate animal inside of you begging to come out. There’s more of this. You’re mine every night for the rest of your life. I like to live on the edge in and out of the bedroom,” Caspian says.
There isn’t much I can say. He knows what buttons to push to throw a monkey wrench into my plans of resisting him. I try to slap his chest to make it seem plausible I don’t want to be used and abused, but he’s not convinced.
“There’s this glint in your eyes I find simply intoxicating,” he says.
He pulls back slowly with my body gyrating on the floor. The head is poised at the entrance. He doesn’t break eye contact as a powerful thrust takes my breath away. It’s not the pounding I’m expecting. He’s slowly enforcing his will.
My body becomes a rag doll for his amusement and pleasure. Those legs he admires are soon wrapped around his waist, locked at the ankles. It drives him deeper into the well of my desire. I become a bubbling cauldron of sexual heat. My eyes roll into the back of my head when he begins pumping in and out rapidly. His shaft rubs my clit with each stroke to drive me utterly insane with lustful intentions.
I don’t want to tell him how good it feels. He angles his body in such a way that his member stretches me out. He’s everything I need in a man and more when it comes to sexual gratification.
His hips become a blur of motion with that telltale slapping sound of sexual seduction echoing in the room. It’s out of this world—an out-of-body experience. We are trapped -entwined limbs completely locked into each other. The rumble of hungry insistence squeezes down on his length and thickness.
In my wildest dreams, I would never have expected anything like this out of him. Dreaming about it doesn’t even compare. He’s sliding on the juices of my excitement until I’m squeezing down on him repeatedly without mercy.
I want him to pop like a champagne cork, but he denies my request and continues screwing me into the floor. I hold him against me when I feel his impending explosion of desire. The head swells, and the shaft balloons until the vein down the back is throbbing out of control.
I know what’s coming.
I manage to glance at the clock to see that we’ve been at it for an hour nonstop. His stamina is something unusual for a man of his age. It’s no wonder his name is on many women’s lips.
I thought they were exaggerating, but he proves to be precisely what they depicted.
I feel every shot of his potency until he’s lying on top of me, his teeth nipping the nape of my neck. He stays there a few minutes to catch his breath before extracting his depleted condition.
“One day, you’ll come begging to be in my bed.”
I say nothing in return, trying desperately not to acknowledge the pleasure he gave me.
He staggers back to the door and closes it behind him. His pants are next to me. He doesn’t bother to dress before leaving me with more questions than answers. Am I wrong about him?
Chapter Six
Caspian
It’s been 24 hours, and I can’t stop thinking about her. The way she moves and how she responded was a dead giveaway. She might present as an unwilling victim, but deep down, physical pleasure outweighs her discomfort.
I find myself drawing inspiration from the flowers blooming in the garden. There are many varieties, and the moonlight brings them to life underneath my watchful eye.
It’s not easy to get to sleep when I have so much on my mind. I barely get four hours a night. It’s not from a lack of trying. I’ve used several different treatments, including supposed medical miracles. I’m still in full control of my faculties despite my lack of sleep.
I look up at her window to see her spying on me through the curtain. She doesn’t know how I crave to be with her again. It stems from a childhood lacking in any kind of affection from my parents. They always treated me like I was some sort of annoyance, but my mother claimed to love me even though I suspected that I was a mistake.
They never confirmed my suspicions, but they only had to look at me to let me know how they felt about an unwanted pregnancy.
It usually takes me a couple of days to unwind after a sexual tryst, but this time it’s different. She’s awakened something inside I thought long dead and buried.
I take out my pipe and use the lighter of the skull and crossbones to feel the enticing aroma of tobacco entering my lungs. I put on a show for an audience of one by blowing smoke rings into the air. I do have her undivided attention.
It bodes well that she’s still up. It won’t require much more than a knock on her door to get her ready for round two. Of course, she’ll put up a fuss but will remember how I gave her multiple orgasms. She tries to play coy, but I know what she secretly craves most of all.
I stand among my private collection of flowers. Nobody would ever suspect me of having a green thumb. It’s a hobby to distract me from the rigors of my life. There are always fires to put out. I’m constantly fielding questions and making examples out of those disrespecting me.
The garden is my secret passion.
Every flower has bloomed out of love. Getting my hands dirty doesn’t necessarily have to be about business. It’s literally a joy to feel the soil beneath my nails. All of my hard work has paid off. It’s all about trial and error, but I learn from my mistakes.
It’s all relative when you think about it.
What happened to my sister is never going to happen again while I’m still breathi
ng. She told me several times how she forgave me and never questioned why my business was dangerous.
She lives in an orchestrated bubble with people around her to keep her from harm.
I had one good cry when she was in the hospital convalescing. They dared to come after me with the results causing a daisy chain reaction. Nobody was immune from my wrath. Leo was instrumental in getting to the bottom of things, but even he suspected there was more to the story. Millions of dollars funded that curiosity.
Several investigators are working on the problem, but their efforts have angered and disappointed me. It’s not about the money. I would spend ten times that amount to have the attacker’s head on a silver platter. It probably won’t give me the closure I’m looking for, but I’m willing to find out.
“Why do you always insist on doing this? Come out where I can see you,” I implore.
Leo comes out of the shadows. “Forgive the intrusion. I still don’t know how you know I’m there every single time. I was reluctant to bother you, but this can’t wait.”
“You know how I like my quiet time. You wouldn’t have come here to talk to me unless it was important. That itself bothers me. I guess I can’t avoid bad news forever. Go ahead and tell me what’s on your mind in a few words or less,” I say.
He rubs his chin and contemplates for quite some time before he finally opens up. “I don’t feel good about telling you this. Hugo Williams is out and looking for vengeance.”
“That is concerning. We didn’t leave things on good terms the last time I saw him. Visiting him in jail wasn’t my finest moment. I said things I couldn’t take back. You don’t know all the details, but you need this information going forward,” I hint.
“Now, I’m the one concerned. Don’t tell me you tried to protect me when that is supposed to be my job.” He places his hands in his pockets, nowhere near the gun in the holster under his black leather jacket.
I don’t feel threatened.
“He threatened to kill everyone I love when he gets out. I believe him,” I say.
“It’s time you tell me the whole story,” Leo stresses.
“I was hoping to take this story to the grave. Hugo Williams was my partner. That was until I found out about his extracurricular activities. He had his hand in child pornography and trafficking children. That’s where I draw the line. I betrayed him by ratting him out to the authorities anonymously with enough evidence to bury him in court,” I say.
“We have a code. No children are involved. What do you want to do about it?” Leo asks.
“I know how devious and dangerous he can be. Do you know how he managed to get out? It certainly wasn’t because of good behavior. I should’ve taken care of this problem, but I let sentiment get in the way,” I say
“There are not many details, but apparently, he got himself transferred to a hospital for evaluation. It didn’t take much from there to arrange his escape,” Leo says.
“He’s always been crafty. Make sure his picture is passed around to your guys. He’s going to be coming after me. It’s just a matter of time. He’ll lay low for a little while, but then he’ll come looking for his revenge,” I say.
I glance to Valeria’s window.
My plans to surprise her are going to have to wait. I can’t be close to her and risk having Hugo use her against me. It’s time to take a step back and reevaluate. He can’t be working alone. He’ll have the pieces in place to keep him informed. Somebody is talking about my business behind my back.
It’s better to keep her at a distance. Let them tell Hugo how she is rarely acknowledged in my company. That will hopefully keep him from hurting her. I know I can’t be everywhere 24 hours a day, seven days a week.
Valeria
It’s been days, and he hasn’t been near my bedroom door since that night.
I see him outside in the garden amongst the flowers while smoking a pipe. It seems to relax him.
He didn’t look pleased to see Leo skulking around in the shadows the other night. They had a brief conversation. His body language changed, and he was showing signs of stress. His shoulders stiffened noticeably from where I was standing, watching through the curtains.
“I know we haven’t known each other very long, but I think of you as a sister. My brother can be obstinate, but I wouldn’t take it personally. He doesn’t know how to take it easy. He’s always in the office working behind the scenes. I wish he’d give me more responsibility, but I know the reason why he doesn’t,” Midnight says.
We are in the library in opposite chairs - both in the lotus position with our legs curled beneath us. Midnight has the same love of books. She comes from a generation where tablets are used, but there’s nothing like a tangible work of literature. Old favorites like poems from Robert Frost and Shakespeare all lined up on the shelves.
She was reading a classic tale of family and betrayal. Romeo and Juliet were love-struck teenagers, but their story became a work of tragedy. It was one of my favorites growing up.
“What exactly do you know about his business?” I ask with curiosity.
“Don’t tell him, but I often find myself in his office when he’s otherwise preoccupied in the garden. I know what he does isn’t legal, but he knows how to avoid certain things. He doesn’t get involved in drugs. I’ve used his dirty money to give back to communities suffering, desperate for any kind of help. It’s my way of balancing the scales,” Midnight says.
“I guess you know more than you let on. I’m not sure how he would feel about you being in his office going through the books. That can remain our little secret. I do have one question, though, that’s been on my mind lately. What’s with the pipe?” I ask.
“That’s easy. It was our father’s. He keeps it around to remind him of the bad times so that we don’t repeat the same mistakes. I don’t remember much about those days. I recall him coming to my room in the middle of the night to turn up the music before locking me inside. I tried to get him to talk about it, but he’s not the kind to open up about his feelings. Maybe you can help him to be a better man,” Midnight suggests.
“I’ll do what I can, but he’s not an easy man to talk to. We don’t have a typical marriage. I’m not sure what to call it. Convenience comes to mind, but there’s more to it than that,” I say.
She has her hair teased in curls. They make her look innocent, but I now know she harbors knowledge about the business. They should be working together. Caspian is known to be a loner, but at least he has Leo to watch out for him.
Diavolo is a myth and legend. He instills fear into everybody around him, but he also has a softer side. He treats his sister and the staff with a kindness that boggles my mind. This man cares deeply but doesn’t want anybody to know about it.
I still remember how he barged into my room looking for something I wasn’t going to give him.
“This is what I’m talking about. We can share things without it getting back to my brother. You’re not happy in the marriage. I was reluctant to say anything, but you don’t exactly hide the sadness in your eyes. Is there anything that I can do to help smooth the way?” Midnight asks.
“I don’t know how to answer that. He walks around with an air of superiority, but I know something’s going on. Haven’t you noticed more guards are patrolling the grounds at night? I’ve always been a stickler for detail. There’s not much that goes on that I don’t see. Do you know what is going on to make him feel paranoid?” I ask, already knowing that she’ll never betray his confidence no matter what she says to the contrary.
“I heard something in passing, but it wasn’t much. Some enemy is coming to collect what he’s owed. I’m not sure what that means, but it can’t be good. He’ll keep us safe by any means necessary,” Midnight says with her nose in a book.
I have a Tom Clancy novel with many twists and turns throughout the story in my hands.
I see Caspian sometimes on the balcony smoking the same pipe. I’m not sure what he’s waiting for. The wedding nig
ht is on my mind. I still relive every single moment, wondering when there’s going to be a repeat performance.
“He does care about you. I’m sure things will get better when the threat has been taken care of. He always gets this way. Nobody can talk to him except for Leo. My brother thinks I’m blind to everything that’s going on around me, but I see more than he wants me to,” Midnight confesses.
She doesn’t let her injury get her down, but the cane will always be right near her fingertips. It’s become an extension of the rest of her body. She doesn’t go anywhere without it.
I can tell from his body language Caspian feels the guilt deeper than he’s letting on. It’s probably the reason why he’s become a ghostly specter in his own house. The only thing missing is a link of the chain dragging across the floor at night when he’s roaming the hallways.
