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Finally, Luca starts laughing, a sound that makes my blood freeze in my veins. Mason pushes him away and the younger man stumbles to the floor, picking himself up in a second and dusting off his jeans. "You think you own her?" Luca hisses at Mason. "You don't know shit. I own you both."
With that, he walks out of the room, and it takes me a moment for my heartrate to slow down until I can breathe normally. I let out a whimper, and Mason looks at me over his shoulder. I watch his eyes skim my body quickly, as if he's checking to see if I'm on one piece.
"I'm scared of him," I tell him, feeling tears pricking my eyes.
He doesn't say a word, merely glares at me before disappearing down the hallway without uttering a single sentence meant for me only. It pisses me off, and once I've collected myself enough, I storm back to my room. There's no key in the lock, so I push a chair from the vanity table against the handle, because I don't want anyone coming in. Luca or Mason - they both have something going on, and no one is telling me a thing which really pisses me off. I deserve to know what's going on, don't I?
I fall to the bed, and promptly fall asleep for the next few hours, waking up disoriented when it's already dark and ominous outside. I know I should be smart and just stay in my room, save all my questions and complaints for the next time I see Mason. I haven't told my father much, though he calls me every night. I don't even know how to explain everything I've done and gone through in this house.
I walk to the open French doors, standing on my balcony. The buzzing of the cicadas has become the soundtrack to my summer, and oddly, they manage to calm me down a little as I listen to their relentless songs. Finally, I decide I need some fresh air.
I put a cardigan over my white dress, keeping my feet barefoot so as not to make any noise when I sneak out on the stairway. I open my door softly, finding the house dark and completely deserted. I know Filippe's in his wing, but I assume both Luca and Mason are either away or in their rooms, oblivious to me breaking the rules.
I sneak down the stairs quietly, leaving through the backdoor in the kitchens. I've only been there a few times, but I memorized the small door leading into the gardens. Once I'm outside, I feel free and happy. The air is cooler and less oppressing, the insects are chirping happily, and there's a spring in my step as I run through the grass. It's going to need mowing soon, but for now, I'm enjoying its long blades leaving wet marks on my ankles.
I know where I'm going already. Right now is the only time I feel comfortable seeing the secret garden, when nobody is looking. Whenever I tried to go earlier, I could always tell Filippe was watching, just waiting for another chance to tell me I wasn't allowed to go back there. But with the lights in his wing of the room out, I know he's fast asleep, and he'll be none the wiser if I pay my special garden a visit.
I'm there in mere moments, and I lean my back against the wall as I take a deep breath of the summer. It's truly beautiful here, and I've never really appreciated my surroundings as much as I've started to in Italy. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I try the door in the wall again. As always, it's firmly locked. I sigh in frustration and on a whim, decide I might as well try to climb the wall instead.
It takes me a couple of tries, but in the end, I finally manage to climb on top of the stone. I can see the garden now, albeit not as clearly since it's already nighttime. I swing my legs over the side and, before I can lose my courage, I jump off the edge.
I end up in a heap on the ground, my bare legs smeared with the dirt and scratched by a neglected rose bush in the walled-in garden. I curse softly to myself and look at the distance I jumped from. I'm lucky I didn't break anything, and I can only hope the way out will be as easy.
I start inspecting the garden and am on my way to break down the brambles preventing me from going further when I hear someone approaching. I freeze completely, standing still and trying not to make a peep. But then something even more awful follows - a key turning in the lock. And then the door to the garden creaks open, and suddenly, I'm not alone anymore.
I look over my shoulder, my face pale and scared as I lock eyes with Mason. He's wearing a pair of jeans, which I've never seen him in, and a simple white tee. He's more handsome than ever with his beard left untrimmed and his hair messy. I freeze like a deer in headlights.
He sees me right away, but he doesn't say a single word. I know I'm already in trouble as he closes the door and the lock clicks closed as he turns the key in it, pocketing it for safe keeping. I make a scrambled attempt to scale the walls again, but his strong body encompasses mine and presses me against it before I can make a move.
He smells good, really fucking good. Like pine needles and summer, an odd combination that fills me with a need so deep I whimper, looking into his clouded eyes.
"You're not supposed to be here," he tells me, and I nod.
"I know."
"Why are you, then?"
I hesitate before giving him an answer. He's not touching me, not yet, but his enormous body is crowding mine, making me unable to escape. "I wanted to see," I admit. "Filippe told me I wasn't allowed to come here."
"You're not," Mason spits out.
"I'm sorry," my voice shakes as the sincerest apology of my life comes out. I really am sorry, and I'm scared too. I crumple into myself, but Mason grabs my hips, making me stand up straight. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone. I just wanted to see."
Small, soft sobs start shaking my body and Mason curses out loud, running a hand through his inky hair. I can tell he's pissed, but for some reason, he's not telling me he's gonna punish me yet.
"It's locked for a reason," he tells me roughly, and I'm quick to nod. The cicadas are ominous now, their chirping becoming louder like it's the soundtrack to the scene I've found myself in. "You're not supposed to be in here. Or anyone else, for that matter."
"But why?" Curiosity gets the better of me and the question slips out before I can stop it. "It's beautiful here. I like it. I want to see more."
Mason gives me a surprised look, saying, "It's overgrown. It's been like this for years."
"I like how wild it is," I get out in a small voice. "It would look beautiful if you only tended to it a little. Why did you let it get to this point? It wouldn't take too much work to bring it back."
Mason looks pissed, and I'm already regretting all of my questions.
"Did you know I come here?" he asks me roughly, and I give him a strange look, shaking my head.
"I just wanted to see," I repeat softly, and he curses out loud, rubbing his temples.
"No one but me has been in here in seven years," he says quietly, and I try not to let my surprise show. "It's that way for a reason." He keeps repeating that, and I keep wondering why.
"I can leave," I offer. Only moments ago, I wanted that. But now, with him looking more vulnerable than I've ever seen him, I want to stay. I want to see more, find out why this place has such an effect on him.
He looks at me, his eyes empty and hurt, and I can't help but wonder who put all the pain in there. I'm too scared to ask, though. Mason's standing a few steps away from me and I'm shuffling from one foot to the other, dirtying my legs with the unattended soil. My dress is already ruined, but for once, I don't care about it. I just want him to ask me to stay. I make a move for the door when he doesn't say a word.
"Don't," he barks at me, and I stop in my tracks. I'm nervous, and he's making me scared. In two long steps, he's approached me. His hand shakes as he reaches up to my face, placing a finger on my chin and making me look at him. He doesn't say anything, and my bottom lip trembles as our eyes connect.
Mason looks hurt, almost physically so, his dark eyes cloudy with anger, but his body broken with memories he never told me about.
"Sir..." the word falls from my lips without being prompted and I blush, unable to look away from him. There's something in his eyes that makes me want to find out more. Why is he so protective about this little walled-in piece of land?
He groans when I call him tha
t. "Don't play games," he warns me.
"I'm not," I whisper back, and for once, I'm telling him the truth.
He moves away for a second, rubbing his temples. There's such tension coming off his body it makes me wonder what's troubling him, but before I can decide on a reason, he's back. His hands reach for my dress and I gasp as he rips it open, right down the middle.
The cool night air hits my exposed skin, my tits naked and my nipples painfully hard under his watchful gaze.
"Are you going to punish me?" I ask in a shaky voice.
He doesn't answer me.
CHAPTER EIGHT
MASON
SHE LOOKS beautiful in the moonlight, the soft glow of the night only serving to illuminate her stunning features. It's getting harder and harder to keep my hands off her, and I already know I'm going to have trouble with this next punishment. But she shouldn't be here. This garden is strictly off limits, as I'm sure Filippe has told her. Not that she listened. Girls like Cara never fucking listen.
"I don't want to hurt you," I tell her, and she shivers under my touch when my hand slides down her forearm. Goosebumps prickle her skin and her big blue eyes find mine in the darkness, an unspoken question hanging in the air between us.
So why are you going to?
Because I have to. Because you want me to.
For that divine look of submission, for that moment when you let yourself drift and your body belongs to me.
I don't say a word, just twist my fingers in Cara's hair, gently pulling on the silky locks and making her come closer to me. Her scent is intoxicating, sweet peaches and cream, not unlike those that grow in my orchard in the height of summer.
