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My daddy didn’t raise no coward though, so I take the stairs. My mom also didn’t raise a fool so I try to be as quiet as I can be in case he’s in a mood. How come I feel like one of those silly girls in one of those horror movies as I make my way down the stairs? Midway down I almost turn around but then I see the main level of the house and I’m compelled to continue. My toes curl on the cool marble cut in a chevron pattern before my toes sink into a thick rug. I wiggle them into the nap. The expansive sofa is facing the floor to ceiling window leading out to the enclosed garden.
He spared no expense creating this haven for himself. The entire room feels like a refuge. I wonder if he even uses it. The space is a serene oasis. Walking around I take note of Hisashi’s minimalist style. Nothing’s changed in the time we’ve been apart.
After making a circle I find the smooth curved wall leading to a dining room, passing that I see an eat-in kitchen that leads to another indoor terraced outer Japanese garden. It’s beautiful. There is even a bridge and a koi pond. There are twin budding cherry blossom trees with a bench sandwiched between them.
I turn from the beauty, my heart twinging remembering our many walks when he said he needed to get out and touch grass. He always seemed to treat the time away from his bank of computers with grudging reverence. Like he was torn between two mistresses. I’m glad he’s found balance.
I come back around to the living area. I know he won’t be found unless he wants to. Hisashi loves nothing better than a hidden room and seeing there is no open office space out here I know he’s hidden away. I head for the stairs then see a glimmer of light to the right of them.
Stepping around the stairs I follow the barely lit path. It’s not hidden if you’re familiar with the penthouse. It opens into a whole different area this more beautiful than the last and comfortable. Another deep sofa. The light was coming from a muted TV, so thin it looks like a projection. The room is still dark but when the sun rises it will be filled with sunshine as it faces the east.
I can imagine being cuddled and watching my favorite shows or theater productions. Too late to snatch the thought back I want to kick myself. I’m forgetting why he brought me here in the first place and it wasn’t to cuddle my silly ass. No, it was to punish me and make me beg for his dick.
Shaking my head in disgust I swing around to head back up the stairs. I see the door behind the sofa. He’s not even fully closed it.
My heart slams in my chest. Walking on silent feet I move over to it. The door is ajar. It’s not an office, it seems to be a security room. I stop just inside trying to make sense of what I’mseeing. Hisashi is sitting before a bank of CCTVs. His serpents are on full display on his back, their bodies in a fierce battle of dominance.
There are cameras aimed at every part of my life. My apartment that’s several floors down from this one. He has a camera in every room. There’s another four covering the house I rented in Shelby Love that I didn’t get a chance to move out of yet. There’s even one in my car.
There are labels on the ones that are dark. DR. AHMED’S OFFICE, PARENTS, THE KANDIE SHOP, THE CAMELLIA, THEATER.
He doesn’t respond to my gasp. I step closer watching him benignly watching my life. There are also other cameras for people associated with his family or the company. They are also dark, except the one trained on my cousin’s Krie’s house and his brother’s Kiyoshi’s mansion and several for the Creative Chaos chip plant. There are another two labeled THADDEUS LOVE one for car and one for dorm. Thaddeus’ life hangs in the balance and possibly Krie’s as well if my young cousin doesn’t stop hacking and causing problems with Creative Chaos.
“Why are you out of bed, little dove?” He sounds tired.
“Why are you?” My response is a direct result of the fatigue I hear in his voice.
“One, I can’t keep my hands off you. It took a considerable amount of my control not to slide back inside of you while you slept.” The cool honesty of his words sends a shiver through me. His admission should scare or repulse me. Instead, I feel liquid heat pool low and deep. My muscles clench at the thought of him fucking me awake. I’m just as depraved as this motherfucker.
“Um,” I clear my throat focusing on the bank of computers. “How long have you been stalking me, Hisashi?” Stiffening at my words, his hand flicks a button and then my face in the present fills all the screens.
“You’re mine to watch over. To fuck when I please. To punish. I don’t have to stalk what’s mine.” His voice is brutal and clear. We both watch the horror spread on my face on the screens before us.
I take a step back.
“Don’t,” he snaps. He manipulates another screen and my apartment fills every screen.
“You wanted to know when the company whose holdings includes this building became part of Takeda? It occurred about a month after I discovered you lived here.” Slowly he turns to me. “I’ve always watched over what’s mine. I won’t apologize. Come here.”
Something tells me if I run, and he goes to catch me this time he won’t be gentle.
I step over until I stand between his spread thighs.
“Good girl.” His head is level with my breasts, but his head is tipped down looking at my thighs. I resist the urge to squeeze my thighs close. Knowing how hypersensitive his sense of smell is I know he can smell my arousal. Cringing I shift uncomfortably. He grips my hips his hands covering the hem of the shirt. “I like you wearing my clothes.” Always full of surprises he adjusts the t-shirt lower rather than up as I was sure he’d do.
“I-it’s too small.” I squirm. He leans in pressing his face against my rounded lower belly. “So soft, so mine,” he murmurs, rubbing his face into the fabric inhaling deeply. My pussy slickens with moisture. He pulls back until his eyes are level with my now hard tipped breasts. “Who says?” All grumbly menace, he quirks an eyebrow.
“It’s a fact.” I shake my head at him failing to fight the little smile that plays at the corners of my lips.
“Hmm…” Leaning in he captures a nipple in his mouth softly sucking it through the cotton. His mouth is so hot anddeliciously wicked as he tugs it. His hands tighten on my hips making me take the pleasure he metes out.
Once the fabric is saturated with the nipple pressed tightly against the fabric, he moves to the other repeating the process. Hot mouth covering me, long drags sending sparks of pleasure from my breast straight to my hot center. “You wearing my shirt is a wet dream, little dove.”
Turning me, he sits me on his lap facing the screen and begins to narrate. “This is three years after you left me. It took me a long time to feel like myself again—” He hesitates trying to find the right words. “Find balance. When Kiyoshi told me where to find you I came here and watched over you.”
The screen shows me coming home some random night after rehearsal for Charles the Tenth, a play I wrote a about a bootstrapping young man who fights his way to the top in business only to realize everything he’s gained is pointless without all of the things he took for granted on his way to the top. It was hailed as a “Citizen Kane on steroids at the time, with a rural urban twist” by one critic earning me a Tony Award. I remember the pressure of the rehearsals, the grueling schedule, and several prima donna actors. I watch as I trudge into the apartment kicking the door closed. It self-locked I remember but I didn’t even bother to check. I dropped all my stuff at the entrance. Though it wasn’t a gaiken, I still used it as one kicking my shoes off bypassing my house slippers.
Shedding my clothes as I go, I head straight to the shower. The apartment was spacious for a one bedroom by New York standards, but it still would only take up barely a corner of this palace in the sky.
