Finding Lily. Vivacia Ahwen K.

‘safety’ might be, without a second thought.

      There was no second thought now, because Dorian Holder already pictured it, me, us in this room. He had chosen to put me there, as though I were a creature who appeared for his amusement. Hoping to see begging, and maybe some tears. Us, shining back at him, in a thousand different places. Dorian knew what he could do to me from the get-go, how he would make my body awaken, make me freeze, make me die, then awaken me again.

      Reflecting now, I want to give him a hearty handshake. Good job, Mr Holder. I am more or less dead and frozen. But I’m still hoping desperately to wake up and love again, to shake him off me. Smarter, next time. I will wake up.

      But that wasn’t the time. It was time for me to get fucked, hard.

      ‘Keep going,’ I said, staring at the two of us. ‘Please, Dorian.’

      ‘Wait for it,’ he growled, releasing me. ‘I love, no enjoy, you much better when you’re waiting. When you’re hurting, aching. When you beg me to do what I cannot wait to do to you.’

      ‘Enough.’ I shook my head. ‘Just, please—’

      ‘If it makes you feel any better, Lily, I’m fighting even harder than you.’

      ‘Liar,’ I whispered.

      ‘Liar? I want that wet cunt so much right now it hurts. While I may be owning you at the moment? Ultimately, you have imprisoned me. And I love – I mean, I like that about you. At the same time, I hate it about you. Why won’t you ever tell me to stop? I will keep pushing. You’ll reach your limit, some time. And you will break harder than you could imagine. And I will watch it happen, and hate myself, and …’ He halted.

      I remained frozen, my eyes watering.

      ‘Why?’ I whispered.

      ‘You know the answer by now, Lily.’

      ‘My answer scares me.’

      ‘So breathe slowly, Lily Dewitt. Deep breaths. I’m going to walk you to the barre, and you’re going to hang on to it until I allow you to let go. Then, with your permission, I’m going to hold you captive here, and have my way with you as we both intended. Isn’t that what you wish?’

      No idea.

      But yes, I wished for nothing more. At the time.

      ‘Permission granted, Mr Holder.’

      ‘I beg you to make me wait, Mr Holder,’ he corrected me. ‘Ms Dewitt, please remind me what you want, the way you know I want to hear it.’

      ‘I beg you to make me wait,’ I repeated, entranced.

      ‘When you come back to fuck me, Mr Holder, I will be crying because I want your cock so badly.’ Dorian pulled his hand away and smacked me hard on the ass. ‘Is that what you mean to say?’

      ‘When you come back and fuck me, sir, I’ll cry how bad I want that cock shoved deep in my pussy,’ I babbled, since the renewed aching in my clit, and the wetness already beginning to trickle down my thighs, made his words sound so very far away.

      ‘Close enough. Lovely, in fact. I’m going to go shower up and start jerking off, picturing you out here, writhing and squirming. Maybe I’ll go ahead and come myself, leaving you alone to suffer as long as I like. Or maybe, just maybe, I’ll come back and ravish you like you deserve.’ He tugged my hair. ‘Do you hear me, do you understand, and is this what you want?’

      ‘Understood.’ I coughed as he yanked my hair harder. ‘I hear.’

      ‘And?’ He bit my earlobe, hard enough that I yelped.

      ‘I want.’ I winced. ‘Yes, please, Mr Holder.’

      When he pinched my nipples again, I yelped, my head turned, and my reverie was broken further. Because it was then that I saw the shattered panel. One of the mirrors was smashed, shattered, spread, resembling a giant spiderweb.

      Dorian followed my gaze, and frowned. ‘Oh, that.’

      Breaking all the unspoken rules, I pulled away, ran my fingers through my hair and watched the reflection of his face, a tragic mosaic of a broken man.

      ‘What happened, Dorian?’

      He shoved me away, walked over to the mirror and looked at the silvery shattered glass in disgust. ‘I got angry the other night.’

      ‘At me? When I sent you away?’ Goosebumps cropped up on my arms. If he did this to the wall when he was having a rough night, what would he have done to me if I had been there?

      ‘There was far more to it than that. No, Lily. It wasn’t you at all.’ He looked askance. ‘Sometimes … I just have a very bad temper.’

      When I was silent, he prompted, ‘Go ahead, say something.’

      ‘And so then you take it out on me? When we fuck.’ My voice was flat.

      ‘God, no, Lily. You are where I find my peace of mind, my centre. My version of normal. And I hope you find that in me, because if not …’ He reached forward toward his fragmented image, then drew his hand back. ‘I take it out on myself, Lily. Then my business minions, then my sycophants, and then the rest of as much of the world as I can fucking touch, my stupid—’

      ‘I understand,’ I said. Interrupting him was not my M.O., but it seemed like the kind thing to do. Plus, I wasn’t ready to hear anything more. If Dorian showed me further vulnerability, any weakness? Whatever we were could come to an end, since feeling in control and powerful was, I believed, the glue holding us together. I couldn’t risk that happening. I wouldn’t let it.

      Not yet.

      ‘So just fucking run, Lily.’ He looked at me, and I prayed that my poker-face was on. But I never played poker, not once in my life.

      ‘Dorian—’

      ‘Go downstairs, Lily, to your little apartment, and play house. Go dance around like it means something. Go – just go.’ He was shaking. ‘And if you ever want to see me again, you’ll leave. Now.’

      I want to see you cry. I want to see you beg. His words from the other night echoed in my ears, and I began to understand. For a moment, I considered doing what my master told me, but no. Because, right now, he was no longer my master. He was just a man, a damaged, beautiful man; surrounded by everything, owning anything, but left with nothing.

      Except for me, Lily Dewitt.

      For now, I could be his Goddess, and I would call the shots. While I honoured Dorian’s pain, while the sweeter part of me ached to comfort him, he had given me the same heartbreak, and I knew damn well he would do it again. And again, and again. Once he mentioned that he was open to losing control, and letting himself be dominated.

      Maybe I should have obeyed orders and run. Perhaps I could have been kinder to Dorian, when he needed me to either be his lover or leave. If I had chosen to follow my heart, I’d have run to him, embraced him, kissed him, told him Mr Holder, go to bed. Let’s just lie down and hurt together.

      Which, in my unexpected five seconds of clarity, I did not.

      Instead, I walked over to him, reached up and stroked his cheek. He started, surprised at my audacity. Cupping his chin, I turned his head so he was forced to look into my eyes.

      ‘Make me,’ I said.

       CHAPTER 4

       The Weighting Game

      ‘As you wish.’ He turned from the sparkling mosaic of himself, reached into a large velvet bag on the floor, pulled out my handcuffs from the other night, two bungee