Feeling White

by Charlotte E Hart

  “I think you have made your point effectively, my rose,” Pascal said quietly as she released his face and fiddled with the back of his now short hair. She smiled and briefly kissed the man again before turning away and walking back towards Alex with a raised brow. Yes, she had proved her point. The moment had been full of her proving her point and she’d left them both in awe and completely lost as to what would happened next. Maybe it was for her to decide.

  “I love you,” she said as she linked hands with him and nestled into his side. He kissed her head and looked back at Pascal, still in puzzlement, a strange sense of warmth now spreading across his skin for some unknown fucking reason as the shit raised a brow and nodded at them both.

  “Look after her, Alexander. You should know I won’t hesitate if you damage her again.”

  He knew in an instant it was the truth. He’d never seen the man so serious. Whether it was love or amusement was unknown, but he most definitely had a challenger and it seemed it wasn’t just for her body. The fact that he felt reasonably comfortable with it was as confusing as the rest of the night.

  “We’ll be in touch,” was his response. It was all that needed to be said. They all knew what it meant so he turned her for the door and chuckled as she looked shyly up at him, batting her eyelashes. Witch. Maybe she knew exactly what she was doing. She stopped abruptly and looked over her shoulder with a giggle.

  “I love the hair by the way. Very Vogue.”

  She was right. The man looked better than ever. Infuriatingly so.

  “I’m glad you approve, my rose. This way I won’t have to tie it back when I taste you for the first time, as and when you agree, that is.” She frowned at him. Alex growled. He couldn’t help it. The remark was cutting a little close to the bone regardless of what had happened.

  “Pascal, really? That’s hardly appropriate and quite beneath you,” she replied. It was perfect, and so was she and as she let go of his hand and made her way from the room, he watched her arse leave with a tilt of his head. He had a feeling the man behind him was doing exactly the same.

  “Do you believe you can be what she needs?” Pascal asked tersely.

  He shoved his hands in his pockets and continued to gaze at her long legs gliding up the corridor as her dress sashayed with her until she rounded the corner. He pondered the question for a moment while staring into space. Would he ever be enough for a decent woman? An honest woman? Unlikely. He eventually turned to look at the man and found him pouring two glasses of Scotch.

  “Possibly not, but I do want to try.” Pascal’s snort of laughter as he handed him a glass and sat behind his desk was characteristically sarcastic. Alex frowned at the thought and downed his Scotch. He’d need another to deal with what the hell was going on but the first one felt damn good. He placed the glass back on the desk and wandered towards the door again, suddenly desperate to feel her skin again and hold her close, show her how he felt about her. “I love her, Pascal. Don’t get in my way again.”

  He heard the strides as Pascal came up behind him and stiffened. The man’s unpredictability knew no bounds sometimes. It was entirely possible he might explode in fury. He swivelled slowly and levelled his eyes to see what he was dealing with. He was surprised to find him a foot away, gazing at his mouth.

  “I had hoped that one day you might caress my lips the same way you did hers,” he said in a soft tone as he licked his lips and moved closer. Alex stood his ground and waited. They’d played this game before and it had always ended with Pascal nursing another painful bruise. Oddly enough, it was the last thing he felt like doing to the man at the moment. Having watched him with her, it had created an intimacy they’d never shared before, a true sense of purpose to create pleasure together and not pain. “But it seems it may be time to let you go, dear boy, that maybe it is time for me to take my leave of you.”

  He stared in shock. He didn’t know what the hell to say. The man was his friend, mentor, damn tormentor at times, and now... Well, he hadn’t got a clue what he was now but he didn’t want him to leave. Ten minutes ago he was fucking furious with the man and now these odd emotional irritations were interfering with his thoughts and morphing them into something inexplicable. If Pascal did have feelings of some sort then he needed to know they weren’t reciprocated the way he’d like, but the thought of never seeing him again was strangely terrifying.

  “What the fuck does that mean? You’ve always known I can’t give you that, and I don’t want-”

  “You have no idea what you want or need,” Pascal cut in as he spun on his heel and threw his hands in the air in what appeared to be frustration. “And it is becoming boring, quite tiring in fact, trying to decipher these insecurities of yours. Why will you not just free yourself of this?” he continued as he paced around the room and began to mutter to himself in Dutch.

  What the hell did he mean by that? Before he got a chance to attempt understanding of the language that was now rapidly getting louder, the man was in his face again, those piercing green eyes firmly directed at his and a mask beginning to form. “No, Alexander, I will not do this with you anymore. Leave now before I lose my temper with you.”

  Lose his fucking temper? The dick had no right to be losing his temper at the moment. He had been the one in the wrong. He took a step closer to the man in frustration, or confusion. He wasn’t sure what was currently coursing through him but he wasn’t leaving anytime soon, and certainly not because he had been ordered to. Who the fuck did he think he was talking to?

  “I’ll leave when I’m damn well ready. What the hell has gotten into you? You know how this is. It’s you that showed me the way, for fuck’s sake. I don’t want you to dismiss-”

  “Dismiss? Oh, Alexander, it is you who dismisses this, not I,” Pascal cut in again as he raised a brow and sneered. “Why should I still play with you? Tell me and I will, but I’m afraid I am as breakable as others in some respects. So what exactly will I get from your attempt at love with another? Hmm?”

  He stared again in complete mystification as Pascal turned from him and wandered across to his desk. Did the man expect him to tell him he had feelings, too? He didn’t - well not those sort of feelings anyway. And why the fuck was he doing this now?

  “Pascal, this is not about you. I don’t care for or need your opinion on my...” He cut himself off this time as the scars on Pascal’s chest suddenly appeared in his mind for whatever fucking reason. He tried to shake the thought away but his body stiffened in response, highlighting his want for the sadistic vision. Pascal chuckled in front of him so he looked back across at him with a frown as his fingers began to itch.

  “Your confusion is truly remarkable and really quite flattering in certain way. However, unless you embrace yourself, I’m afraid I have no option but to deny you from now on,” Pascal said with a wave of his hand, signalling that his soft moment, or whatever the hell it was, was over.

  He narrowed his eyes at the man who was now smirking again as if something was amusing him. He couldn’t ever remember the man denying him anything so there was nothing funny about his statement whatsoever as far as he was concerned. Pascal sat behind his desk, seemingly absolutely in control of himself again and back in full swing, then picked up his Scotch again and swallowed repeatedly until the liquid was gone.

  “But her, well, dear boy, she can have anything from me, as and when she decides that is. Actually, perhaps I should decide for her.”

  His wink didn’t go unnoticed. Christ, the man could goad the angels into hell and it appeared he was currently having a crack at his very own version of one. She wasn’t going to be released any time soon.

  “Are you challenging me?” The bastard raised an eyebrow and smiled. Apparently he was beginning a game. Clearly the strange emotion he’d witnessed earlier had been pushed aside for now.

  “I’m sure we’ll find out in time. Your morsel is delicious, Alexander. Unfortunately she has frustrated me and now I am left wanting. It is unfair of her and you k
now how I feel about that. It is a shame it will have to be this way.”

  Alex’s fist tightened in response as he glared in disgust. Had he not just proved his point effectively enough for the man to back off and give him a chance at happiness?

  “I’m warning you, Pascal. If you dare...” The shit laughed out loud as he poured another drink and returned a bored expression as if this were not worth his time. Fucker. What the hell was he trying to achieve by winding him up for Christ’s sake? The man had seen his love for her. Couldn’t he just say well done or enjoy your life together? This was becoming too much. Another snide comment and he might just do something he’d regret, like kill the man. Fucking emotions and confusion were beginning to merge everything into some kind of overwhelming need to release each twisted thought his fists were currently encouraging him to.

  “Run along now. Your little thing will be fretting.” He turned for the door again. He wasn’t even going to allow the man his damned annoyance, and that need to kill was firmly embedded now. He needed to fucking leave. “Oh and, Alexander, do send something in on your way out. I am bored. Whatever it is, ensure it looks resilient.”

  “Get it your damn self, you arrogant son of a bitch,” he snarled as he reached the door. Pompous, self-righteous bastard, how dare he try this shit? They wouldn’t be coming back here again anytime soon. He shouldn’t have tainted her with Pascal’s depraved mind in the first place. The fact that he was also craving something a little more resilient himself at the moment wasn’t the fucking point.

  “Now, now, mother would be rolling in her grave. It’s only a game, dear boy.”

  Anger reared its head with a vengeance. If there was one thing she wasn’t it was a game. Alex turned and stalked back to him with a sneer, unable to contain the fury that was rising, the fury that the man had pushed out of him for some incomprehensible reason.

  “It’s not a fucking game, Pascal. She is not a fucking game!”

  “She may not be to you,” the dick replied with that damned eyebrow and a glint of amusement. He was entering dangerous territory. This may have been fun before but not with her involved and certainly not his feelings for her. What the fuck was the man trying to do?

  “I won’t let you do this, Pascal. I swear I’ll kill you if you defy me on this.”

  He meant it, every damn word. It was bad enough that he had others threatening her, let alone someone he had considered an ally.

  “You’ll have no choice in the matter, dear boy. She needs me now.”

  What the fuck was he talking about now? Did he honestly believe he could be that important to her?

  “She does not. She has me,” he seethed in reply as he watched him stand abruptly and round the desk smoothly with that devil may care smirk as if they were talking about some other person of no consequence.

  They fucking weren’t.

  “Ah, but you brought her to me, didn’t you? You showed her what was possible, as I knew you would because you need me, too, don’t you? Hmm? Why will you not admit it? Do you believe she could settle for less now that you’ve enlightened her? Mmm... Poor Alexander and his feelings of love. You see I told you, didn’t I? I warned you what could happen if you fell in love and put yourself in someone else’s hands. It complicates everything, dear boy. Did you enjoy watching my fingers on her? Did you want to watch me sink inside and fuck her raw? She was begging for it, wasn’t she, panting like a little whore?”

  “FUCK YOU!”

  Jealousy, fury, pain, excitement, he couldn’t put a damn label on what was rising inside him, but the fact was that the fucker was right and it suddenly scared the shit out of him. He stepped closer to threaten the bastard into backing off. The dick licked his lips and moved toward him.

  “Oh, darling boy, at last. Shall I bend over here or would you prefer the dungeon? Can she take it as I can? I think probably not. She’s not enough for you, is she? Tell me you need me.”

  He stepped away again, trying to calm down. He wouldn’t be forced into this again. Twice had been enough no matter how fulfilling it had been at the time.

  “She’s everything I need. I love her.”

  “Oh, don’t be spiteful. It is unbecoming and quite dull. Has she seen it all yet, felt the full divine force of you? Have you marked her like you did me? I still relive the moment each time I fuck something else. Nothing has come close.”

  “I’m not discussing this any more. It’s different now,” he replied as he turned and blew out a breath in a bid to stop the rising need to hold the man against the wall and beat the life out of him. He was better now. He didn’t need this anymore. She was all he needed.

  “It will never be different. You will never contain it and nor should you. You are beautiful just the way you were created. Come, take what you need from me and let me feel you again.” Condescending bastard. Unfortunately, his body was desperately agreeing with the thought, too much turmoil and not enough avenues to expel it lately and he was ready to blow. Pascal knew him too well and he’d always been able to see it in him. Was that what this had all been, an attempt to make him blow up?

  “I’m leaving. I’m not doing this with you again,” he said as he hovered on the rug, looking at the chairs, uncertain as to whether his own words were true or not. He brushed his hand over the one she’d been on and balled his fists in frustration at the thought, his fingers still itching with the need to release every indecision buried deep inside. He heard a step behind him and sneered over his shoulder at the man who was pushing his every button with precision. The need for discharge built again and he tried desperately to squash it back down as Pascal neared him.

  “You spoil my fun, Alexander. I am bereft without it and your little toy does nothing but diminish you. It’s actually quite wretched to watch. Look at yourself. You’re fucking pathetic around her as if she might break if you push her too hard. She will ruin you.”

  He spun so quickly that he saw the glimmer of fear flash in Pascal’s eyes before he grabbed the man by the throat and pressed him onto his desk. He lowered his mouth to mere inches from him and squeezed. Unable to hold back every aggressive preference that was now coursing through his veins, he looked into Pascal’s eyes and watched them relax into submission.

  “I won’t stop, Pascal. I will crush the breath from you and feed your fucking innards to your dogs if you continue to goad me. She is everything to me. I won’t have you destroy her.”

  The man’s lips began to tremble in anticipation while his pupils dilated. The dick knew exactly what he was doing. Alex shook his head and loosened his grip as he moved upward and away. He shouldn’t be doing this. She was waiting. She wouldn’t understand this, and she absolutely didn’t deserve it, not after what she’d just allowed him, them. Pascal rose in front of him and moved in again.

  “Does she enjoy the belt or whip? How many men will she take at once while you watch? Hmm?”

  “Pascal, stop this,” he mumbled to himself as he walked a few steps backwards again, trying to push the rising rage inwards.

  “I do hope she’s as pliable as she looks. Has she learnt to hang by her delicate little throat for you yet?” the shit continued, taunting and goading.

  “Stop, Pascal. Don’t do this. It’s different now. I’m not doing-”

  “I assume you probably have to cuddle and cajole her pretty little cunt into doing what you want, don’t you? Hmm? How will she ever understand you as I do?”

  “Stop!” His hands were shaking, his breathing heavy as he tried to look away and focus on anything but the man in front of him.

  “I want it, Alexander. Get on with it. Let him go. Let me have him again and-”

  “STOP!” he roared as he threw Pascal to the floor and towered over him in fury. Every fibre in his body was primed and ready for demolition, each joint aching for the release the man had pushed him to and was now offering. It was so long since he’d done this, so long since he’d found this kind of expulsion of energy and angst. His brain clouded over in
mist as the rage overtook and fuelled his muscles for action.

  “Ah, there you are, Sir,” the fucker said calmly as he moved his frame and kneeled in waiting, his head hung and arms open wide to the sides as he breathed out a sigh of expectation and licked his fucking lips. Everything slowed, time beginning to evaporate just as it always did and he watched the rise and fall of Pascal’s chest as he centered himself, with confusion marring his every thought.

  Was this what he needed? Was she enough? What the hell would happen if she wasn’t? How could he love her and need this from Pascal at the same time? He thought he was in control of this, thought he could dismiss this need and just hold onto her instead. He shook his head at the sight before him and tried to fathom why the fuck Pascal had pushed this because he had, purposely.

  His fists tightened again as he gazed at the scars on the man’s ribs and shoulders, the ones he’d asked for, begged for at the time, then flicked his eyes to the sideboard and sneered at the contents.

  “Go, Alexander. Get what you need. Get me what I need.”

  He swung his eyes back to find Pascal watching him like a hawk, trembling slightly in waiting and breathing calmly. Masochist, the man who bowed before him was a fucking conundrum, masculinity personified and yet ready to take a beating and revel in it to perfection. He sneered again at his wandering thoughts and took a step back.

  He was a fucking disgrace to her. What would she think if she saw this? She’d be disgusted.

  And what the fuck had all the emotion been about earlier? His fists tightened again as he tried to call himself back or push himself forward without care into the very thing he wanted most at the moment.

  Right or wrong.

  Murderer.

  Good or bad.