The dark obsession boxed.., p.37
The Dark Obsession Boxed Set, page 37
Pulling the heavy down covers over our shoulders, I held her sleeping form close.
The muffled sounds of laughter as guests left could be heard beneath our bedroom window.
I kept my eyes closed as I felt Elizabeth creep out of bed. The call of two nightingales could be heard just outside.
Morning.
The bitter taste of last night’s debauchery was still in my mouth. The memory of Elizabeth falling into the hands of those animals was like a fist squeezing my chest.
Through mostly lowered eyes, I watched her enter my dressing closet and emerge wearing a rolled-up pair of my sweatpants and my university T-shirt. I realized, with an odd start, I had not allowed her any of her own clothes or belongings the entire time she had been here. Her closet full of couture gowns was at my London residence.
Her hair was a mass of unruly curls around her small gamine face. She looked disheveled and vulnerable and I wanted with all my being to just hug her close but stayed silent in our still warm bed.
Opening the door, she crept out.
Leaning over, I picked up the phone by my bedside.
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“See that Elizabeth is driven back to London. Make sure the guards are alerted.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
I hung up.
Falling back onto my pillow, I flung an arm over my eyes.
Taking a deep breath… I began to formulate a new plan.
CHAPTER 29
LIZZIE
The moment the flat door opened, I fell into Jane’s open arms. Sobbing.
Days later I was still on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket, staring at the walls.
Why did I have to be in love with someone I hated?
How was it even possible?
Why would the universe allow such a contradiction?
It didn’t seem fair or right.
Richard was wrong for me. Dangerous.
Nothing good would come out of our relationship.
All I kept thinking about was the Shakespeare quote from the doomed lovers Romeo and Juliet.
These violent delights have violent ends, and in their triumph die, like fire and powder, which as they kiss consume.
That! That right there was Richard and me in a nutshell. Our entire relationship summed up in one sentence. We were too intense, too extreme. Toxic.
And his games!
His fucking games!
Each one was more immersive than the last. I didn’t even know my own mind any more… or my body. What started out as a naughty spanking in a public garden had now escalated to me almost being torn apart by a bunch of drunken sex-crazed men.
Where did it end?
How far was too far?
At what point had it stopped being sexy and kinky and started becoming just plain wrong?
Where was the line?
I thought that was the crux of my problem with Richard. I was becoming increasingly aware there was no line with him.
Sex in public? Sure.
Kidnapping? No biggie.
Force your girlfriend into a cage? Just a Friday night for him.
Where did it stop? Wrapping my arms tighter around my middle, a small voice in my head reasoned since Richard was powerful enough and rich enough, I seriously doubted there was a line he wouldn’t cross to get what he wanted.
And the problem was he hadn’t stopped with my body, he’d fucked with my mind as well. He had me second-guessing everything.
After I stopped crying days later, I finally asked Jane about her conversation with Richard and my drawings. Jane told me she never talked to him. And yet, he had my drawings. I even met with the portrait artist for some early photos in the champagne chiffon dress he had had made. I kept telling her she didn’t need to keep his confidence, that he had admitted she had given him the drawings but she was adamant.
Who to believe? Was Jane just keeping his secret? Had he paid her to keep quiet no matter what? I noticed in the week I was gone, Jane had quit her job at the pub. She wouldn’t tell me why, only that she decided she didn’t want to work and go to school at the same time. A month ago, I had to cover part of her rent! She needed that job… at least she used to.
I started to ask her at least a hundred different times about her relationship with Richard. Did she know him before me? How well? Was she part of his plan? Had our entire friendship been a lie? Each time I stopped. She was my only friend in London and deep down I didn’t want to know the truth.
The problem was I knew that was just the tip of the iceberg. My landlord yesterday gave me a strange look when I tried to pay our rent. Telling me he would just get it the usual way. The usual way was me giving him a check from the small insurance settlement I had gotten from my parents’ accident. He refused to take it, just kept saying it was paid the usual way. That’s when I remembered Richard claiming he paid my rent and had been doing so from the start. That was insane, but when I went to look at my bank account, there were no cancelled rent checks listed and there was way way more money in there than I ever thought possible.
Richard was powerful enough to get my landlord and my roommate to lie but the banks? No, that didn’t seem possible. Which meant the only plausible explanation was that he was right. We had met before the cab accident. Then why didn’t I remember?
Holding my head in my hands, I tried to stop the spinning thoughts.
It felt like I was on some sick and twisted merry-go-round. That was the problem, I kept circling over the same spot over and over again.
I loved him.
Against all reason, against my better good, against everything… I loved him.
“Why?” asked Jane last night as she handed me wine in our usual mugs.
“I can’t explain it. It’s just… being with him is more.”
“More?”
“Yeah, more. Everything is bigger, brighter, more intense. Things aren’t nice, they’re exhilarating. A party isn’t just a party, it’s a fucking rush walking in on his arm. Dinners? They’re insane. The food tastes better and you never know what surprise he has planned for dessert.”
Clinking her mug with mine, she smirked, “So is the sex more too?”
I blushed. I hadn’t really told Jane any of the kinkier aspects of our relationship. How could I possibly have begun? You know that guy I’m dating? He likes to shove feathered butt plugs up my ass and call me his little bird and I totally get off on it? Uh… no.
“The sex is… off the charts,” I said as I lowered my eyes to concentrate on the contents of my mug.
“He’s a pretty big guy… is he big… everywhere else?” she asked with an exaggerated wag of her eyebrows.
I hit her with a pillow. “I’m not talking about Richard’s cock with you!”
“Well, you can’t deny there are some pretty awesome fringe benefits.”
We both looked down at the coffee table where I had spread out all the bird pins Richard had bought me. They looked out of place on the dusty and scarred tabletop that was littered with old fashion magazines.
I picked one up and crushed it in my palm, holding it against my heart. A sharp pain had me hissing air through my teeth as I pulled my hand away and opened my palm. The sharp edge of the pin had pricked my palm. A small bead of blood had formed in the center. Placing my palm against my mouth, I licked the crimson drop away.
“I don’t know what to tell you, Lizzie. It’s like this guy makes you insanely happy and insanely miserable at the same time.”
“Exactly!” I said with a huff as I fell back on the sofa, putting the pillow over my face. Holding it close, I kicked out my legs and screamed into its fluffy contents before slamming it down on my lap.
Brushing my hair out of my eyes, I continued, “He makes me so mad, but I can’t imagine life without him now.”
Jane shrugged. “Men. Can’t live with them. Can’t kill them.”
We clinked mugs and drained the contents.
Now as I sat alone in our flat, I couldn’t get him off my mind. I missed him. Despite all the confusion and games and lies, I missed him. I missed the feel of his arms and the smell of his cologne. I missed the dark honey sound of his voice and the way his gaze fixated on me as if I were the only person in the world. I missed the feel of his hand on my lower back as he guided me through a crowd and how he would always feed me tasty bites of his own meal. I missed the look of pride in his eyes when he showed me my dress designs come to life for the first time.
And even if I was going straight to hell for it, I missed the mind-blowing sex.
For the hundred-thousandth time, I picked up my phone and checked for missed calls or texts.
Nothing.
I knew he wouldn’t call or text. He hated mobile phones.
I needed to stop thinking about all the good things and think about all the ways he was bad for me.
He was controlling. You mean protective?
He pushed the line. You mean got you out of your comfort zone, made you experience new things?
He was domineering. You mean the way he would push you against a wall and kiss you senseless just like in the movies?
I wondered if he missed me as much as I missed him. Was he just as miserable? Maybe he had already found someone new? Like that crazy woman from a few weeks ago. Had he already replaced me with someone more willing to take risks, more adventurous? Someone more willing to play his games?
Oh, my God! Stop it! I shouted to my inner mind.
Enough was enough. This toxic, twisted merry-go-round had to end.
Looking down at the bird pins, I swiped them with my arm, scattering them in a shimmering blur across the floor.
I knew what I had to do…
CHAPTER 30
RICHARD
“Get out!” I roared as I threw my glass at the partially open door. It crashed against the panel, sending amber liquid and shattered glass raining down onto the floor.
I should have forced her to stay. Should have tied her to my bed till she realized her fate was with me. There was no other choice.
This wasn’t the end.
I wouldn’t let it be.
She was mine.
End of story.
Mine.
My mistake was letting her continue to live her life as normal. I wouldn’t make that mistake twice. I needed to isolate her from everything. Only then would she finally realize her love for me superseded all else. She was my world. I needed to make sure I was hers. I needed to ensure she forgot all else but me.
Walking over to my bedroom mantel, I picked up the vial of pills I had gotten from Dr. Leilend. Popping off the cap with my thumb, I poured them out onto the black marble.
Four pills.
Four second chances.
There was no thought of this crossing a line; where Elizabeth was concerned there was no line.
I didn’t doubt I would get her back, by fair means or foul. The question was how could I make sure this didn’t happen again? Chaining her up in a room had no long-term appeal. There was no challenge or sportsmanship to that solution. No, I needed to make it her choice to stay. And the only way to make that happen was to eliminate all other choices.
Pouring myself another drink, I turned to look at the rumpled bedcovers. I had refused to allow the maids to clean in here. Even though it had been days, I swear I could still smell her scent on my own skin, on my sheets. I needed to get her back. Needed her in my arms. Under my control.
There was this restlessness in me, an eager darkness that clawed and scratched at my insides begging to be unleashed. Only she could calm that beast. Without her, I felt it rear up.
Walking to my dressing closet, I threw the doors open. I had cleared a corner for all the dresses I had made for her. Taking a sip of brandy, I pulled out the champagne chiffon Victorian gown that would be featured in the portrait I was having painted of her. Then the riding habit in a deep hunter green velvet. They were beautiful. My girl had real talent, mainly for gowns worn a hundred-fifty years ago, unfortunately.
Things would be so much easier if we both lived in the Victorian era. I would just marry her, then I would be her lord and master. She would be forever under my control. By the laws of God and man. Unlike today where even with marriage a woman still had independence and freedom.
The thought had appeal.
The fact was, even if she came back to me this time, it wouldn’t last. Once more I would do something that pushed her too far. It was inevitable. She would be forever questioning our relationship. The games I played. The problem was those games with her were what made life endurable, without them everything was colorless and boring.
I needed the thrill of the conquest as much as I needed air… as much as I needed her. That was why she was perfect for me. She was both.
An innocent treat with a dark and twisted center.
A woman who was both submissive but strong enough to challenge me.
Someone who would accept my cock up her ass but still bite my lip till it bled when I kissed her.
Fuck, I screamed into the empty room.
I needed to get her back… by any means necessary.
She was mine.
Mine.
Notifying my staff that I wanted the Aston Martin ready outside with the keys in the ignition, I tossed on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. I didn’t have a fully formed plan yet, but I couldn’t wait another day without seeing her. She had more guards than the queen secretly watching over her, but it wasn’t enough. I needed her with me. I would convince her to return and then come up with a more long-term plan later.
What I really needed was a second chance. A chance to wipe the slate clean. What an exciting challenge that would be, to convince her to fall in love with me all over again.
The ultimate game.
Picking up my glass, I swallowed the final gulp, relishing in the burn, before turning and opening my bedroom door.
“You!”
CHAPTER 31
RICHARD
Elizabeth stood there wide-eyed. Her arm half raised, ready to knock.
“Your staff said I could—”
I didn’t let her finish her sentence. Grabbing her head, I pulled her in for a kiss. Wrapping an arm around her waist, I carried her over the threshold and kicked the door shut.
“Richard, I—”
“Shhh… don’t talk,” I breathed against her open mouth as I kissed her again, while carrying her to my bed.
Tossing her in the center, I tore off my shirt. My hands went to the zipper of my jeans as I kicked off my shoes.
“Richard, we need to talk.”
“No talking. Take off your clothes,” I growled as I placed a knee between her open legs and reached for the hem of her sweater.
Pulling it over her head, I palmed one naked breast while taking the other breast’s nipple deep in my mouth, scraping it along the edges of my teeth.
Elizabeth groaned as her hips bucked.
Moving down to kneel before the bed, I pulled off her yoga pants and leaned in to lick the fabric-covered seam of her pussy. Hooking one finger into her thong, I pulled it harshly to the side, knowing the thin elastic band would press against her tight dark hole as I did so.
“Richard, don’t do this. I can’t think straight. We need to talk,” she moaned as her fingers dug into my hair.
“Later,” I murmured, my hot breath brushing her exposed flesh.
Grabbing her ankles, I propped them on the edge of the bed, spreading her wide.
She was here.
In my bed.
Under my control.
And I was never letting her get away again.
Much later, I untangled from the sheets and strode over to the side table next to the fireplace. Pulling off the crystal stopper, I poured us both a brandy.
Looking over my shoulder, I watched Elizabeth sit up against the headboard, holding a sheet up over her breasts, as she ran a hand over her tangled hair. “You know, Richard, my being here doesn’t change anything. I can’t keep having the same fight, the same doubts, over you. It’s killing me. It’s toxic. We are toxic together.”
Placing the stopper on the brandy, I stared down into the dark amber liquid. “If only we could do it again, but differently.”
Elizabeth sighed. “There is too much baggage. I know that sounds crazy, we barely know one another, and yet I feel like we’ve been doing this same dance over and over again for years. I know I love you but I just don’t know if that is enough.”
Reaching for one of the pills, I cracked open its plastic shell and dumped the contents into her drink, watching as the white powder fizzed then dissipated.
Walking over to the bed, I handed her a glass.
Elizabeth looked at it with suspicion. She raised an eyebrow. “What’s this?”
“Brandy. You’ll hate it. Drink it anyway,” I said, giving her one of my most charming smiles as I took a long sip, still staring at her over the rim.
“You know, no matter what happens, I’ll always love you.”
Her beautiful green eyes looked so sincere as she said it, and I believed her. How could I not? I was already forming a plan to make sure of it.
I held up my glass. “To new beginnings.”
Elizabeth drank deep, then choked. Grasping her throat, her voice raspy, she said, “Oh my God, that burns.”
I chuckled before taking her empty glass. Caressing her cheek with the backs of my knuckles, I said, “Brandy is a lot like love. There’s always a little pain.”
CHAPTER 32
LIZZIE
Present day
I missed.
Richard’s full weight crashed into me, sending us both tumbling to the floor. He had my hips straddled, his erect cock pressing against my stomach as both hands closed like a vise around my wrists. Lifting my arm up, he slammed my right hand against the floor several times before I finally cried out and dropped the gun.
