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I slowly take a step back, and find myself having to adjust my cock. Her breathing is rough and ragged as well, and I let out a pained growl. “As much as I would like to claim you this very instant, I won’t. First, we have a party to attend to, and I’d like to see us get along for a change, especially when we’re in the public eye.” I run my thumb over her bottom lip. “I do expect you to exhibit yourself with stellar behavior this evening. Then, if you’re a good girl, we can come back here for dessert.” I grin at her. She hasn’t moved a muscle. “What’s the matter, love? Did I kiss you speechless?”
She breaks into a coy smile, looks up at me from under those long lashes of hers, and bites her bottom lip. “I guess you did.”
Reaching out, I gently take her by the elbow. “Shall we?”
Not a damn thing can stop this forward momentum now. We are on the road to true bliss. I finally have her, and nothing will stand in my way. I close my eyes for a heady moment. One taste, one year, nor one lifetime will ever be enough to quell my thirst of her. I will fucking kill anyone who stands in the way of our future.
~Jules~
I think I was doing a damn fine job of conciliating Nick, if I do say so myself. Before he first stepped into my room, I heard the familiar sound of my door beginning to open, and then I knew immediately it was him. Once the hairdresser left, she told me to be expecting him in the next ten minutes. My heart pounded in my chest as I kept hearing Travis’ voice in my head, reminding me to assume the submissive position by getting down on my knees. I didn’t even hesitate to kneel; all I could see was Travis piercing me with his emerald blocks of ice, demanding I respect them. God knows I’d do anything to avoid the pain and humiliation that comes with that stupid cross.
When I knelt down on the kitchen floor, my limbs were literally shaking with fear, because I knew Travis was away on business and wouldn’t be here to run interference on Nick. I’m not sure he would come to my rescue anyway at this point, not since I pissed him off, so I guess I’m left to my own devices, all the while treading on thin ice. I know there will be serious consequences should I misbehave.
I am all too aware of Nick’s quick temper, and I don’t want to do anything to set him off tonight. When he kept telling me to relax and be myself, I thought he was playing some sort of cruel joke on me. Ever since day one, when he told me he liked naughty girls, I’ve been waiting for him to make his move. I wouldn’t put it past him to set a trap for me to fall into.
I’m extremely wary of him; I don’t know what’s running through his criminal mind. I don’t want to give him any reason to punish me, and he’s throwing me off track by being extra sweet, which means there has to be an ulterior motive. The confusing thing is he doesn’t need to play games to get what he wants; he proved that the first day I was here.
When he started talking to me about possibly finishing my art degree, I tried to see him in a different light. Can someone like him truly care about another human being? He’s a conundrum. There’s no way he could care about me to any extent, because true love is selfless. It doesn’t take; it gives. Nick has ruthlessly stripped me of all my freedoms without apology, has drugged me, and currently holds the threat of pain and punishment over my head at the drop of a hat if I don’t capitulate.
So, of course I was taken aback and confused when he proceeded to tell me if I ever wanted something within reason, he’d give it to me. Doesn’t he realize the only thing I want right now is my freedom, and the very second the opportunity presents itself, I will not hesitate to make a break for it?
The question rolls around in my head as to why he would offer me the chance to finish my college education. If he thinks he truly loves me and intends for me to fall in love with him, he’s much more delusional than I originally thought. If he actually thinks I could fall for him, especially after all his machinations and devious scheming, then his perception of reality is skewed beyond any help a psychotherapist could provide.
Nick’s light touch on my elbow pulls me from my inner thoughts, and I have to blink my eyes a few times and force my brain to get back in the game. I’m so nervous; my legs feel wobbly, and these high heels are not helping matters. As we step out into the dimly lit hallway, I slip my arm through his without prompt, because I feel like a newborn filly, seriously unsteady on my feet. Somehow, I can’t help but think this is the calm before the storm, because nothing can go smoothly in this type of situation, and since we’re talking about Nick, it could be the storm of the century. My heart beats double-time with every step I take away from the safety of my little room.
