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She takes the speculation in stride as if she’s not hidden her marriage for the last decade. Holding her head up she smiles at me brightly as if I haven’t all but forced her here. She’s better than any stage actress I have ever seen. I can’t help but give her a smile in quiet acknowledgment. She plays the gossips against themselves and to her own advantage. Regardless of the speculation or how she’s come to be here she’s not letting me or them make her the victim. She made all of us her acolytes.
The house lights dim as we are all admonished to put away flash photography and our cell phones. Silence falls as the play of boys from the wrong side of the tracks with big dreams begins. I watch Taylor as she’s riveted by the play, her eyes turning glassy when in the second act one of the teens dies trying to save someone’s life in a fire.
I hand her my handkerchief as she dabs her swimming eyes at the end. We stand and give them an ovation. “Brava,” Taylor cries enthusiastically with the rest of the crowd.
The lights fill the theater. We wait as people start to file out. Being in the theater with her for the first time in years I can feel how it’s still so much a part of her. The very ability to witness the process feeds her spirit in the same way writing code and figuring out algorithms does for me. Though the two are disparate as any two things can be what they mean to us is the same. They give our life meaning. Such a simple fact is how we came to be in the beginning. Why we work so well for thatlittle while how we still could if there wasn’t so much darkness between us now.
“This is one of the best adaptations of this story I’ve seen.” I nod, familiar with the story but only aware the book purported to be written when the author was a teenager.
She looks around, almost as if in a panic. “Can we go out back? I don’t want anyone questioning me about my next —” she cuts off, cringing. She looks up at me, sadness clouding her face. “Is this part of my punishment?” With the accusation comes a spark of anger. Her little curvy ass dares to step to me, her mouth forming into a deliciously malicious pout as she hisses, poking a sharp fingernail in my chest. I back up, allowing a cruel smile to form on my lips to further bait her. “You brought me here to remind me of what I love and do what? Snatch it away?” she demands as my back presses against the velvet tapestry that lines the wall of my private box.
“It didn’t cross my mind but now you’ve given me the idea. Arigato, Tay-chan.” I laugh softly at her fury. I like the way it makes my dick hard. She’s even more delectable mad. In a smooth movement I reverse our positions pressing her into the wall. Circling her neck, I pin her to the soft textured surface. “Make no mistake, little bitch.” Bending low, I whisper hotly into her ear, my tongue darting out tracing the shell of the orifice with my tongue. I feel the way she squirms, reveling in each twist of her soft little body as it brushes against mine. “When I punish you tonight, you’ll know it.”
Her breasts rise and fall against me. I inhale the sweet smell of her. Her eyes are wide with a touch of fear and raw passion as she watches my nose flare getting high on her scent. Punish her? As if sitting beside her the whole night was not a punishment for me. I could taste, touch her, or simply gaze upon her beauty like some lovelorn youth on his first date. Watching her experiencethe play was an exquisite punishment De Sade himself couldn’t have dreamed of. She is every temptation. Everything I desire.
“Tay-chan,” I growl, buckling under the sensations teasing along my stretched control, burying my face in the hollow of her throat. Pressing between the drenched vee of her creamy thighs, feeling that hot little pussy pressing against me. I pull the soft flesh of her neck into my mouth, tasting the fragrance and much of her skin beneath my tongue. Lost in her, I groan, snatching her close, grinding the heaviness of my dick into her soft flesh. I can feel how much she needs me buried deep inside of her. Her pussy pulsing against me is a plea for the pleasure only I can give her.
“N-not here,” she pants, her small hand pushing against my lapels.
I look down into the luminous pools of her eyes begging for what her mouth won’t. Any number of her theater fellows are milling about outside of the confines of this not so secluded box. Some uncouth person could pop in at any moment seeking to speak with her. To be found in such a fashion would tarnish her hard-fought reputation. Making a note to have guards posted next time, I nod stepping back to give her space.
Turning I adjust myself in my trousers, so my dick won’t be so prominent.
“Ready?” I ask over my shoulder.
She looks flushed and beautiful. Nothing seems out of place. Reaching out, I use my thumb to rub away the smear of make-up beneath her bottom and top lip.
“Okay?” The apprehension on her face gives me pause. I narrow my gaze on her as a nasty thought emerges.
“Do you care more about what they think you’ve been doing or who you’ve been doing it with?” My voice sounds deadly to my own ears, but I don’t care, I won’t apologize for who or whatI am. She needs to know that now. Not that she’ll have a choice once the news of our marriage is leaked.
“People have speculated for years on the source of my plays’ funding. A nobody coming on the theater scene fully privately funded for her plays when she’s straight out of theater school and a failed fellowship is the feeding ground for gossip.” She shrugs.
“So rather than tell them you were married to a mental patient you let them think you were a slut?” I nod, rage making my Japanese harsh and cutting. Head shooting up she looks like I slapped her. The fact that she doesn’t deny it only serves to make my point and my anger hotter.
“After you,” I whisper with ominous promise not giving a fuck about her pride and reputation at the moment. Yet more to add to the arsenal of vengeance I have for her.
“You live here?”She looks at me in wonder when the driver pulls into the high-rise apartment building she lives in as well.
“I don’t see why not.” Flicking a nonexistent piece of lint off my silk pant leg I glance at her dispassionately as possible. “I own the building.”
I have to hold back my laughter when her head snatches around to look at me in shocked horror.
“H-how?” Her voice sounds strangled, her eyes round with surprise.
“A real estate acquisition including several properties owned by the parent company when Takeda absorbed them.” I blink like it’s the most common thing on the planet which it is. Takeda is always looking for investments, so no one batted an eye when I orchestrated this purchase.
She settles back into the cushions of the car for the brief moments it takes for the driver to take the private car lift that securely takes us up to my suite.
Kogi opens my door and I step out, returning his bow of deference with a brief one of my own. Straightening my suit, I come around, opening her side. When her small cool hand slips into mine, the possessiveness I’ve managed to stave off up until this point falls like ash from a flicked cigar. I help her smaller, curvier body out, liking the way she barely reaches my chest. We are close, as close can be without touching. When I breathe, it makes her hair flutter.Fascinating.Fucking beautiful.
I lace our fingers, interlocking them, feeling the tremble in hers. I can feel her eyes on me, but I know better than to look. Putting her body protectively in front of mine, I lean forward, pressed against her soft body for the retina scan. The lock clicks and double doors slide open.
We’re now standing inside the glass surround of the penthouse elevator. “I’ll show you the downstairs tomorrow.” Pressing the UP button, I look down at the mass of hair I can’t wait to loosen from its chignon, watching it fall down her lush brown curves.
Ten years. Ten fucking years and not another moment longer, Hepromises.
The glass doors open into a gaiken. Silently we take our shoes off, placing them into their perspective spots.
