275
Elsa
Forty-five minutes later, I’m at work at the flower shop.
Seb walked me through the silent nightclub toward his car parked at the curb. Before leaving, he called down and asked the staff to clear the nightclub so he could walk me out the front door without anyone noticing my state of undress. I protested and told him I could walk out the back door. To which he responded I’m more important than profits, and the club could suck up the loss of business for the time needed for us to reach his car.
Uhm, what? Honestly, I was so blown away I couldn’t even protest. It was never like this with Fabio. To be fair, there’s really no comparison between the two of them.
On the face of it, Fabio was suave and personable. He went to an Ivy League school in the US, then returned to Italy to join the police force, before being posted to London on a special assignment. He’s educated, sophisticated, and comes from old money. He’s also, as it turned out, a wife beater. Just my luck.
Seb, in contrast, looks rough, with his untamed hair, and the black ink which peeks out from under the collar of his shirt and makes we want to explore just how far down his body they extend. Maybe he has a full sleeve, although I can’t tell. So far, every time I’ve seen him, he’s been dressed in one of those suits which, sadly, cover his arms completely.
And so far, Seb has treated me like I’m his. Not that he’s a gentleman; far from it. And that’s the appeal. He’s a man who’ll treat me like a queen in real life and a slut in bed. A shiver runs down my back.
He drove me home and insisted on watching as I changed my clothes. I wanted to protest, but decided against it. If he thought I was going to be embarrassed… Well, I certainly wouldn’t let him know if I were. And I was. It had taken everything in me not to flinch as his hot gaze had taken in my curves, alighted on my tits, then slid down my waist to the space between my legs, over my thighs and my legs. By the time he had raised his gaze back to my face, I had been panting. And he was smirking. Bastard knew exactly what he was doing to me.
My finger slips on the rose stem I am trying to trim. The thorn pierces my skin and a drop of blood oozes out. “Damn it.” I bring my finger to my mouth and suck on it. Since I met Seb, I’ve been way too distracted. For the first time I can remember, I’m thinking not of my daughter twenty-four-seven, but of him. I pause. He’s managed to wiggle his way under my skin in such a short period of time. If I continue with this charade… Well, not a charade, according to him. If there is no divorce in the Cosa Nostra, once I marry him, it’s for life. A shiver runs down my spine.
I went into the marriage with Fabio with silly romantic notions in my head. I’d hoped he’d be my Dom… Instead, he turned out to be my abuser. It’s only after I started frequenting the BDSM clubs that I saw how a true Dom cares for his sub. Fabio? He simply saw me as an object to slake his lust.
I’d hoped for him to be my husband, my partner, and understand my needs. Instead, he was a monster who knew exactly how to prey on me and my tendency to see the best in people. And my insecurities. He took advantage of my trusting nature and my desire to please him and be all he wanted me to be. But the rules were always changing, so I was never quite sure what he wanted.
He started off so sweet, doting on me, buying me flowers and taking me to romantic places, and telling me how important I was to him. He told me he loved me before it even crossed my mind. He convinced me he would take care of my every need, but when it came down to it, he wanted me to take care of his needs. Except I never really knew what they were. He made me feel so stupid, like I couldn’t do anything right, and then I got pregnant. That’s when I knew I was trapped.
During the pregnancy, he either treated me like the most precious thing in his life, or forgot about me as he gallivanted around doing god-knows-what with god-knows-who. And he had the nerve to accuse me of cheating on him!
By the time Avery arrived, he’d pretty much lost interest in me and barely showed interest in her. Until he’d discovered he could use her to manipulate me. And he’s been doing that ever since.
Of course, with Seb, I know where I stand. Both of us have a practical reason for getting married, only… This damn attraction toward him is potent. Heat flushes my skin. The scent of him, the taste of his skin, the feel of his fingers on my lips, between my thighs, cupping my breasts, thrusting his fingers inside of me… It’s like he’s marked me as his. With very little effort.
My fingers tremble and the rose stem slips from my grasp. I’m falling for him. Jesus, I’m falling in love with him. No, no, no, that’s not possible. I barely know him. You don’t need to know a person to be enamored by him. Damn, why can’t I view this as a business transaction without getting my heart involved? Especially when it’s the future of my daughter at stake.
And once I’m married to him, I won’t be able to hold out against his charm. His presence. His dominance. Maybe that’s what drew me to him in the first place. His absolute assurance in knowing what he wants and going after it. He reminds me of the girl I used to be. The one who hadn’t hesitated to walk into a BDSM club and watch the others perform.
Somewhere along the way, I lost myself. Lost my conviction and my confidence in myself, as a mother and as a woman. And now, I’ve begun associating my sexuality with Seb, and I’m not sure I like it. This connection I feel toward him is not healthy. I may be marrying him; doesn’t mean I’m going to allow myself to fall for him. If I did, there’s no way I’d be able to retain my individuality. And I need to do that-for myself, for the sake of my daughter. What if… he turns out to be like Fabio? What if, like Fabio, I begin to trust him, and then, like my ex, what if Seb turns on me? And once he finds out what my true plans are, he definitely will.
I agreed to share all my thoughts and feelings with him, but it’s too dangerous. I can’t allow myself to be carried away by him. I need to find a way to hold onto the parts of me that are still left. I worry I will not be able to keep my feelings out of this relationship. That the more I get to know him, the more I’ll fall for him, and I cannot bear for that to happen. I need to…
Reassure myself I’m attracted to men other than Seb. That he’s not the only man in the world who’ll be able to command me. That there are others who I could turn to, to become my Dom, if the need arises. I draw in a breath.
Of course, if Seb finds out what I’m going to do, he won’t be happy. But I’ll be discreet. I’ll make sure I’m not noticed. Besides, he did say this was going to be an open marriage. He’s the one who was clear he’d be sleeping with other women. If he thinks that rule applies only to him, he’s crazy. And anyway, I’m not going to sleep with anyone else. I’m simply going to reassure myself I haven’t been so overpowered with Mr. Grumphole’s charisma, I can’t be attracted to anyone else.
There are tons of other men out there… And not one of them can help you get custody of Avery. No, no. I’m not jeopardizing this chance to build a future with Avery. I’m simply ensuring, at the end of this charade-and it will come to an end when Seb finds out the real reason I agreed to marry him-there’s something of me left. A part that has not been completely subsumed by the alphahole.
Yeah, that’s all this is about. I’m not committing a crime by wanting to spend one evening away from him, am I?
The bell over the door clangs and I glance up as a woman walks in looking for flowers to purchase for a dinner party. She’s followed by a man who wants to buy flowers for a date. I gently guide him away from the carnations and toward the spray of mixed flowers. The traffic picks up, and since I’m the only person in the shop today, I’m run off my feet. By the time it’s five p. m., my feet are aching and I’m ready to call it a night.
That’s when something vibrates in between my legs. What the-? I gasp, then squeeze my thighs together. The vibrations stop, then there’s a second, and another. The woman I’m serving looks at me oddly. “Are you okay?”
“Y-yes.”
That thing between my thighs vibrates again-slowly, once, twice, then faster. It speeds up, and a pulse of heat slides up my spine. I grip the edge of the counter, and the customer’s gaze widens.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
I grit my teeth, force my lips to kick up. “Yes, I’m sure. Just stomach cramps.”
“Oh, I get that. Do you have anything you can take for it? I might have something in my purse…” She begins to rummage in her bag.
“Thanks, but don’t worry about it. They’ll pass.”
“If you’re sure…”
The vibrations fade away, and I slump a little. “I am. Thank you. That will be twenty-nine, ninety-nine, please.”
She taps the credit card on the machine, and that’s when the blasted thing begins vibrating again, this time in a clock-wise motion. Jesus, can this thing also open a bottle of wine, or what? It pauses, then begins to vibrate, this time in a counter-clockwise motion. What the-!
Tendrils of pleasure pulse out from my core. My thighs tremble. I must moan a little, for she startles.
I give her a strained smile. “D-do you want your receipt?” I ask.
She shakes her head, then wishes me luck and walks out.
I clutch at the counter and squeeze my legs together. Just need to ride this out. Except, the damned thing keeps vibrating. My entire body seems to shudder. Oh, hell. At least there’s no one in the shop. I bite down on my lower lip and clench my inner muscles as the thing picks up speed-pulsating, throbbing, sending pinpricks of heat squeezing out to my extremities. My nipples harden and my toes curl. I throw my head back, curve my back, and groan. Close, I am so close. I can’t believe it. Surely, I can’t be close to an orgasm already? I have never come this quickly.
The boyfriend I had before Fabio barely got me to climax once. And Fabio? Well, he was too focused on taking his own pleasure. And this is from an inanimate object. Not that vibrators should be called that, considering how intimately I have gotten to know them of late, but this… Knowing he is at the other end of the remote control, pressing down on the button, knowing exactly what he’s doing to me, makes me feel like I’m leashed to him by a virtual chain. That I’m under his control. That he can simply press a button and have me writhing and throbbing and aching for release.
Oh, my god! A whine bleeds from my lips. Please let me come, please let me come. I’m so close, so close. I brace myself for the oncoming onslaught of pleasure, even as I cross my legs, trying to hold back the impending climax, when- It stops. What the bloody hell? My climax slinks away. I snap my eyes open, and glance around the now empty shop. Thank god there’s no one around to hear my groan of sexual deprivation. No doubt, the jerkalope knows how close I was to the edge. He knew I was on the verge of an orgasm and pulled back.
Argh! I curl my fingers into fists. I turn around with the intention of heading for the restroom, but my steps falter. He told me not to remove the damn thing. I have to keep it in. I have to let him turn it on whenever he feels like it. I have to allow him to bring me to orgasm, without even touching me. Or worse, bring me to the edge and not let me orgasm.
It’s bad enough, whenever I see him, I seem to lose my ability to think. A-n-d I did ask him to dominate me, after all. So, in a way, his actions are justified. I can’t blame him for trying to turn me on at will. No, it’s the effect he has on me when I’m in his presence I resent. He only has to command me in that ‘Dom’ voice of his, and my body is unable to refuse him. It’s a turn-on, but it’s also a little scary. I refuse to become a doormat. Refuse to simply do as I’m told, no questions asked. I may want to submit to him… But I’ll be damned if I’m going to give in without challenging him. If he wants me to be his submissive, he’s bloody well going to have to come after me and tame me!
The blasted thing between my legs finally falls silent. I straighten, then walk to the door and flip the sign to closed. I hurry inside and sweep up the fallen leaves and stems on the floor. Thank god starting next week, we have a cleaner who’ll come by every evening to help me. The shop is doing well enough we can afford it.
I take a final look around the place-the gleaming counters, the flowers displayed in the window, and in strategic locations around the shop. One last breath of the rose and honey-suckle scented air, then I grab my bag and step out the door. I have just locked it when something vibrates… in my purse. It’s my phone. Not the other thing between my legs. Thank god!
I pull it out of my handbag, glance at the screen, and spot my ex-husband’s name. My stomach churns and I grip the phone so tightly, the skin across my knuckles stretches white. The phone continues to vibrate. I grit my teeth and finally answer it. “What do you want?” I snap.
There’s silence for a second, then, “Is that how you greet your husband?” Fabio’s oily voice sounds in my ear.
“We’re divorced,” I say tersely.
“How can I forget?” He chuckles. “It’s your infidelities which landed you in this mess.”
“I never slept with another man, in all the time we were married.”
“And what do you call frequenting S&M clubs? Too bad I couldn’t beat that proclivity out of you.”
My breath comes in pants, my chest hurts, and I lean my shoulder against the door to take in a breath, then another. He can’t harm you. He can’t harm you. You got away from him, remember? Now, you just have to do your part, and everything will be fine. You’ll get custody of Avery. That’s what you want, right? It will all be worth it in the end.
I square my shoulders, lift my chin. “Why are you calling me?” I demand.
“Are we on track? We’d better be. I’m losing patience.”
“A month,” I reply, “you said I had a month.”
“Forty-eight hours.”
“What?” I stiffen. “What do you mean?”
“You have two days to get me the information I need to put the Sovranos behind bars.”
“Two days? That’s impossible. You told me I had a month!”
“I lied.”
“You son of a bitch. There’s always something else I have to do, or else. What is it going to take to get you to let go of me and give me Avery?”
“Do you have the information I asked for?” His tone grows more casual. “If you don’t get me what I want, I’ll do everything in my power to ensure you never see her again.”
My guts twist, bile rises in my throat, and I almost throw up. I push the back of my head against the door, close my eyes, and count backward from ten… nine… eight. The world slowly stops spinning. My breathing normalizes.
“Elsa?” His voice cuts through the noise in my head, “You there?”
“Don’t make me do this. I can’t go through with this… farce.”Content © NôvelDrama.Org 2024.
“Then forget about ever seeing Avery again, you-”
“No.” I grip the phone so tightly that pain screeches up my arm.
I push aside the emotions that threaten to overwhelm me, then draw in another breath. “Forty-eight hours,” I say in a hard voice, “and you’ll get what you need.”
“Good,” his voice brightens, “I knew I could count on you. Knew I made the right choice when I married you. I-”
“Two days. I get you the information, and then you walk away from us. You never look back.”
“First get me what I need, then we’ll see.”
I grit my teeth. This is so pointless. He always uses Avery to get me to do his bidding, and I always agree to his demands in the hope that he might allow me to see my daughter more often. But he’s already filed for full custody. He won’t stop until he’s stripped me of all of my rights to be with my own daughter. He’ll just keep using her against me. He’ll always use Avery to make my life a living hell. Worse than what it is now. Not if I can help it.
I’m giving Fabio one last chance to come through. I’m going to deliver on what he asked of me. Who am I kidding? Demanded of me. I’m going to get closer to Seb, then use my proximity to spy on the Sovranos. I’ll get my ex the information he needs. And if he still doesn’t walk away from me and Avery? Then I’m going to fight him with every bone in my body, with my last living breath. I’m going to find a way to protect my daughter from him.
“You take good care of her, you hear me? I’m only leaving her with you because I don’t have a choice, you-”
The phone cuts out. My heart twists in my throat and the blood pounds so hard at my temples that specks of black flutter at the edges of my vision. Focus, focus, you can’t faint. Not now. Not when Avery is counting on you. Not when you need to get through this evening. Apparently, I’m one step ahead of my bastard ex. I already found the perfect way to accelerate events. All I have to do is see this through, and everything will be okay.
There’s a touch on my shoulder and I scream. I snap my eyes open, find Adrian holding up his hands, palms facing me.
“Whoa, you okay?” He peers into my features. “You look pale. Did something happen?” He glances up and down the road.
“I’m fine,” I clear my throat, “just taking a breather.”
“Hmm…” He glances at the phone then back at me. “Seb sent me to pick you up.”
Which is perfect. I couldn’t have planned this better. I pocket the phone, and paste a smile on my face. “That’s great.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” His voice softens, “Anything I can help you with?”
Of the seven, Adrian definitely comes across as the most understanding. He’s as good-looking as the other Sovrano brothers, as macho in appearance, but something in his eyes hints at more patience. There’s a hurt there which seems to stem from something that may have happened to him… Something in his past may have tempered him, so while he’s as dangerous as his brothers, there’s an empathy in his attitude which invites you to confide in him.
Not that I trust him to keep my secrets. Quite the opposite. I’m confident whatever I tell him will be reported back to Seb. The Sovranos have each other’s backs. No matter how much they fight amongst themselves, it’s clear that, when it comes to taking care of each other’s interests, they’ll be there for the other.
It’s what gives me the confidence to lower my gaze and say in a low voice, “As a matter of fact, there is something you can help me with.”