Walking through the door, I find him standing waiting. Walking to him, my arms wrap around his neck. Kissing his lips and pulling him to me, his hands grab me, pulling me tightly towards him, my moans escaping.
“I don’t want Marcus. I just want you. I don’t want anyone else in the room, just you. I can’t believe I never realised it before. Everything you did was for me, not you. That fucking punishment this morning was for me not you. I am doing this for you. I am choosing right now: no Marcus. I can live without him; I cannot live without you, Jackson.”
He looks hurt. His face is filled with pain, his eyes looking at the door. Following his gaze, I see Marcus standing there. Everything, all the feelings for him, flood through me. I feel awful. He walks out. Following him, I stop him by the car.
“I am sorry. You were right. I will never leave Jackson for you. That does not mean I don’t love you. I do, but not enough, Marcus. I am sorry. I really am.” This is
“Hey, have you realised we have had no more issues?” His words make me realise he was right. There has been nothing since the launch. Maybe it was Jake all along and the police scared him off? “We’ll have a peaceful Christmas. As much as I hate bringing him up, especially now, I have to. Marcus’s birthday is the same date as Georgina’s. I was thinking of throwing a joint party for them both and that way he can’t say no because he will be going to Georgina’s.” I wait for his reply but he is quiet. Maybe it is too soon to mention his name. “If he will go, I think it will be nice. He has not celebrated his birthday for years. He does not even see anyone on it, so if he agrees then why not?” Wrapping my arms around him, I move closer, my lips pressing against his. “Thank you.” Smiling at him, I can’t believe how close I came to possibly losing him. “I told you, me and Marcus will stay friends through anything. I still love him and you the sa
The car door opens. Looking up, I see Marcus has climbed into the passenger seat. “I know Jackson enough that he wouldn’t want you going alone after that letter. I am coming with you. I won’t talk. Christ, Alena, I won’t even look at you.” His eyes are fixed forward. I don’t think I can do this. The car is too small. All the emotions flood back. I can feel the tears building in my eyes. Concentrate, Alena. Drive and concentrate. Maybe I should give up and go shopping another day? But honestly, when it is Christmas in seven days, I can’t escape it. I need to go shopping. Pulling out of the drive, he stays quiet. The whole drive is too quiet. I can’t stand it. “So, what is your plan now then?” My question is almost silent. I can’t act like he isn’t in the car with me. As hard as it is to talk to him, I can’t do it. “Well, after Christmas I am going out on missions with the team, just going to get away for a bit.” I want to argue, tell him no and
Getting into our bedroom, I remove the whip from the box. It is beautiful, all leather. The whip is black and red. The handle has ‘Kitten’ written on one side and ‘Wolf’ on the other. ‘Beast’ is written on the end of the handle. The feel of it is amazing. You can see all the details in it, all perfectly placed and marked. Placing it back in the box, I walk to my dresser. Opening the drawer, I hide it beneath my clothes so Jackson won’t find it. Walking back downstairs, Marcus is sitting at the table with Jackson. It is nice to see them together despite everything. It shows they care for each other a lot. Walking into the kitchen, I start cooking while the girls play happily in their little play area. When the food is ready, Jackson and Marcus are still sitting and talking. Do I give Marcus some or not? I don’t know. I feel like I should but, at the same time, I feel like it is the wrong thing to do. “Marcus is stayi
He looks at Marcus and then at me. “Are you okay discussing this in front of others?” Why would he ask that? Then again, why wouldn’t he? He has no idea what I am about to say yet. “Yes, it is fine.” I nod. Marcus can stay. Plus, he will need to be questioned no doubt as well. “Okay, so please tell me what your relationship is with Roxy.” Sitting now, I don’t know what to say. What is or was our relationship? Casual sex, hookups? What would you call it? “I am not sure. I would say we were friends, but we also slept together during that time.” That sounds weird, and while I can see he is intrigued, he stays dignified and continues writing. “How do you know Jake?” An easy question, one I can answer with ease. “He was a friend. I grew up with him, but we are no longer friends.” That is something that makes me the saddest about this whole thing: Jake was a friend and I lost such a good friend because of it all.
The sound of the door closing is the only indication he is here. His footsteps are quiet as he walks around the room. My heart races waiting for him to touch me. I can sense him close to me. He isn’t saying or doing anything, just stood or sat watching me. I can feel his eyes on me. “What shall we do, Kitten?” His voice is quiet. He needs to do whatever he wants for a change. “I want you to enjoy yourself, to do something you like and not just do something for me like you always do.” He does everything for me. I don’t even know if he has ever done anything for himself. “I do, Alena. Do you think I would let another man touch you if I didn’t enjoy it? Not a chance! Seeing you with another man makes me hard, so fucking hard. Not everything I did was just for you; some were for me as well.” Nodding, I agree he wouldn’t let a guy touch me if he didn’t like it, no way would he. “Well, I think we messed that whole part up, with Marcus
Jumping, I would have fallen forward without the chain. The whip hits my ass, making me moan. That is why he has the lead held tight. When he whipped me, my body flew forward. If he didn’t have hold, I would have gone. Moaning, I stay bent over, waiting. His silence makes the anticipation higher. I feel myself slowly slip into my subspace, my mind clearing of everything. Jumping from the sting of the whip, I moan. I can’t help but smile, knowing that just a few rooms away his favourite whip is waiting to be opened. The whip continues to hit, my moans growing as they get harder. My mind reminds me of the cameras. As panic rises inside me at the thought of people watching, it is quickly muted as the rest of me craves it, craves knowing what they would do with me, and what they were thinking about watching me. His whip hits again, hard. Moaning, I almost fall forward again, the collar holding me in place. His hand strokes up my back, the
I don’t want to beg, but I feel I need to. I can’t hold back much longer. “Please, Daddy.” My words are quiet. His fingers move faster and my screams get louder. “Please, Daddy, please.” My teeth bite down on my lip. Moaning, I can’t stop myself. “Please what, Kitten?” His voice is soft against my ear, his tone amused and turned on at me begging. “Please let me finish Daddy, please.” Begging I hope he agrees. He begins to chuckle louder. His fingers move faster and the electric shocks get more intense. “I want to make you squirt, Kitten. I want them to see my Kitten squirt.” My head shakes. It is working. If I relax, I am gone and finished. “If I say no, what will happen, Kitten?” What will happen? I will say ‘peach’. I will end it all because there is no way I can continue, no way I can go through more and hold off the orgasm. “I will say the safe word, Daddy. I can’t take anymore.” My words are slow an
Waking up with the familiar scream, my body instantly reacts to the dream, trying to stop myself, but I can’t. Walking down the stairs, I feel a sense of change: something in the dream has changed. I can feel my body stiffen up as the phone rings. The same voice, the same words, everything is the same. A vision shows Jackson standing there and I hear the sound of the gun. I see him falling to the floor. Just as I do, I scream, trying to wake up. I can’t wake up. I’m lying on the floor screaming, the image of Jackson bleeding in my mind yet I can’t get to him. Why has the dream changed? Why Jackson and why now? My body lurches upwards, still screaming. Jackson’s hands are shaking me as if he is trying to wake me. Marcus is standing at the door. My whole body is cold and shaking. If there is anything worse than the dream of me being shot and unable to wake, it is Jackson being shot and me being unable to wake from it. My body automatically goes to get out the bed and check on the