Page 43 of Finally, His

“We already have one.” His hand steered Eric down the hallway. “Marta will wrap up all three of the paintings. They’ll hang in our bedroom. In the meantime, the school starts tonight by helping Master R with Lina.”

The man chuckled. “What did she do this time?” Lina’s brat reputation proceeded her.

“Apparently, she’s not yet learned all she needs to. Care to help?”

He shrugged. “What do you want me to do?”

“Everything. With me.”

Now he got a real smile out of Eric—and Rebecca.

Alexander still knew he would have to spend the rest of his life making sure they understood it.

So, he would. Nothing he had to do for either of them would be a hardship. They were part of his soul.

* * *

Note from Elizabeth:I was promptly kicked out of the scene.They got busy.Imagine that.

If you’d liketo read more about Alexander, Rebecca and Eric’s polyamorous relationship, readInvincible, an Elite Doms of Washington full-length erotic romance.Click here to download in ebookor find it in print at your favorite online retailer.

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Charlotte placed her hand on the door. The bathroom’s cold tile floor bit into her knees and bruised the tops of her feet. But the hurt was good. It helped to lift another layer of the fog that swamped her mind.

Richard’s deep, rich, baritone voice reached her next. It shimmered through her whole body like she was a tuning fork he’d plucked it.

She pressed her cheek to the door and hummed the melody with him, clinging to the song's notes like a life raft. Her collar, a thin band of silver around her neck, picked up on her throat’s vibration. She touched the metal, her collar,hiscollar. Forever, he’d said when he’d placed it around her neck during the ceremony. How long ago? A year.

Through the wooden door, his sharp inhale signaled he would start the song again. How many times had he run through the tune? He would keep it up for hours if she needed it.

She was so tired of needing it.

Her voice didn’t come back to her at first. She cleared her throat and found some words. “My name is Charlotte. I’m in your bathroom.”

“Our bathroom, love.” Richard’s voice was low and calm. He returned to humming the soothing melody.

“Yes, our bathroom.” The door was warm from absorbing her body heat and tears over the last few minutes or hours—who could remember time? The floor was slick from her hands and damp from her sobs. The body was remarkable that way, crying pints of fluid until you had to wonder where it all came from.

Tu sie il mio sole

Il mio unico sole

The lyrics crystallized in her mind like flashes of light in a dark room. “You make me happy when skies are gray,” she croaked back.

Her fingertip traced a seam in the door, hidden from the eye by layers of paint. Up close, she could see the small imperfection. She’d painted the door a sunny yellow when she’d first moved in. “Any color you’d like, love,” he’d said. So, she’d covered up the former dusty blue with proverbial sunshine.

The last remnants of her dream drifted from her consciousness, and she could finally slip the horrid images into the slot in her mind she’d created for those awful memories. She pushed herself upright. She’d had a nightmare, that was all. She’d found her way into the bathroom and locked the door as if that would keep the imaginary mob from finding her.

Non lo saprai mai caro

His voice lifted into the higher notes, and a new shiver ran through her body.You’ll never know, dear.The Italian version of the song didn’t quite fit. But Richard made them fit anyway.

Everything about him fit—especially her.

“Master.”

The song abruptly ended. “Charlotte.”

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