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“I’ve had a long time to learn them.” Pascal’s fingers reached for the bridge of his nose, attempting to pinch away the tension, it only increased the pain. Why? Why would his family do this to him? Albeit, his cunt of a mother did many things over the years to avoid showing any sentiments at all. His cock reared inside his pants. He glared at it, still annoyed by her continued interference in his thoughts. “Sit down, Pascal. I’ll make the drinks.” He did indeed sit. It was necessary for thought to re populate his mind.
“Where is Lilah?” It appeared he could not think without Lilah.
“They’ve gone to explore,” Alexander replied, tinkering about with drinks. “I told them I wanted to be alone with you for a while.”
“How chivalrous,” Pascal snarled, leaning his head back and still pinching his nose.
“There is nothing chivalrous about what I’m considering. You raped me.” Pascal sighed and closed his eyes.
“I did not. I was attempting tutelage.”
“You did, and you drugged me to make it happen. I could be fucking offended if I thought about it enough,” he replied, lowering the tone to unamused. It was disconcerting to say the least. Pascal opened his eyes slightly to check the odium levelled at him. It was apparent, but not necessarily ready to blow, so he closed them again. “And you will pay for it at some point.”
“You have a nice ass. I was provoked into it.”
“You’re a slut.” Pascal half chuckled a cough out, amused by such a title.
“This is probable. However, you deserved it. Your behaviour to Elizabeth has been intolerable.”
“Elizabeth?”
“And I.”
“Mmm.” Pascal’s head finally leaned forward at the sound, eyes trying to focus on Alexander’s properly, as he was handed a drink.
“Is it drugged?”
“Possibly.”
He drank it anyway, not caring if it was or not. Perhaps a heavy dose of horse tranquilizers, and a good ass fucking, would make this situation disappear and he could return to realms of iniquity and not have to think of obligations. It was all too much. Too much thought. Too many obstacles to overcome. And now he had to deal with Fabrice, the rest of the family included no doubt.
“I am not fucked enough by you. You have allowed my wander.” It’s all he cared to discuss at present. Alexander kept stirring drinks, slowly.
“And you have loitered in it rather than enjoying your freedom. Stupidly. My life isn’t all about you, Pascal. It’s about her. You’ve never needed me like she does.” Need him?
Moron.
“She does not need you. When will you accept that? You need her, Alexander. I cannot keep doing this for you. I will not.” He stood and trampled the ostentatious rug until he arrived at the far morning room, unsure why he had even crossed the space, and then turned around and stormed back. Whatever this was, it was better than having the conversation neither of them wanted. “Why do you not want children?” Alexander’s eyes hardened to moronic standards. “Do not stand there and act like we do not understand each other. We do. Explain yourself.”
“I just don’t.”
“Liar.”
“Rapist.” Well, that was obvious, and not the slightest bit relevant. Were they to go tit for tat on matters of opinion, as if the years before them meant nothing?
“Truth, Alexander.” He stared the man down, infuriated with trying to cajole information from him a moment longer. He had matters to attend to, and only one week to persuade his rose that here, with them all, was still the correct place to be. “She will leave you if you do not expose yourself.”
“No she won’t.”
“Yes, she will.” He threw his own hands up in the air, about ready to throw himself at the bastard’s feet and beg him to give a little of his damned soul away to someone, anyone. “She is not as I. She has a boundary. Limitations. Her mind is not as degenerate, nor is it as able to forgive your indiscretions. You are losing her, Alexander.” The brute stared, unmoved and seemingly unfazed by the conversation. In fact, a smirk seemed to tip his lips. “And, if you are not careful with that damned tone of yours, me too.” The stare turned to such a scowl of irritation Pascal did not know what was coming next, or care. He lifted his chin and tugged at his clothes. “I am becoming exhausted by your lacking attention.”
“Why?”
“What?”
“Why, Pascal. What did you want from me when this began?” he asked, walking across to a sofa and sitting. “One minute it was beat you. The next it was collar you. Then it turned into take the collar off. Then on again and fuck you. Love you. And now, with this?” the man waved his hand around the palace, presumably talking about the very situation Pascal was trying to avoid. Trust him to bring it to the fore again. “Off? Or on while you rule your family’s position? Am I to sit at your side and hold your hand, make your version of fairy-tales a reality?” Calm presided then. A calm that only ever came when Alexander was about to explode. Pascal readied himself. For what he did not know. “I have given you everything you said you wanted from me. In the order you wanted it. Including my fucking backside now you’ve pillaged it out of me. What the fuck do you think you deserve from me now?”
Hmm. This had suddenly become odious.
