Blind Obsession (27 page)

***

Possession ~

We started a new painting today, and Phillipe named it
Rhapsody.
I liked this one. It was my favorite so far.

“So, you want me naked with Diva across my ass cheek?” I asked.

He laughed. “Yes. Perfect.”

I shook my head at him and raised a brow. “Kind of an odd place to put a violin, don’t you think?”

His fingers ran down my bare arm. “It’s an odd place to want to put a lot of things,” he replied sensually. His voice was so deep that it slid down my spine, creating a pool of moisture between my thighs.

Sexy, sexy man
, I thought. “I know what you want to put there,” I told him.

Reaching out to touch his waist, I moved my fingers below. He was wearing loose cotton pants, and they did nothing to conceal the hard cock he now had pulsating between his thighs.

“Hmm,” he murmured. He stepped closer. “When you’re ready and not a moment sooner.”

Licking my lips, I blinked. “What if I’m ready now?”

His lips pressed hard against mine. “You’re not.”

“I’m not?” I questioned.

His arms wrapped around my waist as his nose brushed against mine. He shook his head. “No, you’re not.”

Closing my eyes, I asked, “How do you know?”

His fingertips touched my closed eyelids. “Because you won’t have to ask or tell me. It’ll just happen.” He assured me, his mouth was by my ear. “It will happen, Beauty, and then I’ll have all of you.”

I shivered as I turned my face toward his. “Do you want to start painting now or later?”

His arms unwound from around my waist as he moved away from me. “Let’s start now, and then I want to show you something.”

Smiling in his direction, I started to remove my top.

He sighed. “This is the best part.”

“It is?” I teased as I undid my pants and pushed them off.

“Yes. When you take off your clothes for me, it shows so much trust and faith. You’re so warm and naked. It makes me so fucking hard that I want to sink deep inside of you and never leave.”

As I stood completely bared to him, I turned and looked over my shoulder in his direction. “Maybe it’s not me who isn’t ready.”

There was a long silent pause and before I knew it his large palms were on my shoulders, and his hot mouth was by my ear. “What on earth do you mean by that, Chantel?”

Shivering, I pushed my hips back toward him, so his cotton-covered cock was pressing insistently against my ass crack. “Maybe you’re worried if you take me there, you’ll never be able to leave,” I suggested, pushing his desperation and fueling his obsession. I wanted him dark. I enjoyed having him want me as much as his next breath.

“Is that what you think? That I’m scared?”

His sinuous voice slid inside of me. I felt goose bumps rise along my skin.

“I think you’re worried that you won’t ever escape me,” I confirmed.

He chuckled darkly, wrapping one large arm around my waist. He pressed a big palm against my naked mound before pulling my ass tight against his thick shaft.

“When I get inside of you, you will be mine,” he told me and bit my earlobe.

I reached my hand behind my head to grip the back of his and turned to meet his mouth with my own as I whispered against his lips, “Or maybe you’ll be mine.”

***

Dropping the journal as though it physically burned me, I look around the silent room I’m sitting in. The bedroom is empty, except for me, the bed, and the small desk, but right at this moment, I feel like it’s occupied by more.

Taking a deep breath, I stand, moving to the window. I feel like I’m losing my mind.
Is it coincidental that I heard the word
mine
while I was in the shower? Did I accidentally flip to that page and subconsciously see it there in her typed print?

I have no clue, but as I stand by the window, I spot Phillipe walking down the gravel path toward the lit arbor. That’s when it hits me that I need to get away from here. However, if I do that, I will lose the story of a lifetime, but if I stay, I might end up losing something much more valuable, like my sanity.

Watching him closely, I notice he’s carrying something in his hand. He’s wearing a long dark coat, and his hair looks wet.
Maybe he washed
me
from him as well.
He stops in front of the bench, and he does something I never would have expected. He moves down to one knee and places a single red rose on it.

I can’t help but hold my breath as he reaches forward and traces his fingers over the inscription there.
Love looks not with the eyes
.
Oh, how very appropriate that statement is
, I think as I turn away from the heartbreaking moment.

Watching him down there, in what I can only guess is an apology of some sort, I realize I’m not only in danger of losing my sanity but my heart as well. That’s when it occurs to me that I want him, and I want him to be
mine
.

***

As Phillipe kneels before the bench and traces his fingers over the inscription, he closes his eyes and thinks of
her
. How very true these words
—Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind
—seem today
,
and so be it. He can’t see her anymore, but she’s the one constant on his mind, especially tonight. Tonight, he let her go for just a few moments, and she completely disappeared. She left him, and he let her slip away.

Now, he has to get her back though. He can hear her humming in his mind, and he can feel her all around him as he kneels there. In the place where she once found such peace, he offers up his apology.

How could I have abandoned us?
Even in a moment of selfish pleasure, he
always
keeps her there, involving her somehow, but this time, he let her go. He failed her. Right on the heels of that self-deprecating thought, he reminds himself that she, too, failed him.

Placing the rose on the stone bench, he closes his eyes and utters a soft accusation. “You lied.”

He doesn’t expect an answer. He doesn’t understand his need to lash out, but it’s bubbling inside of him. He’s angry at himself, which in turn fills him with an undesirable urge to scream or hit something.

“You lied to me!” He loudly curses out again. “You told me never…” he criticizes.

He closes his eyes as pure anguish threatens to overwhelm him. He pictures her face the first day he took her down to the music room. He’s reminded of that moment of complete joy, an expression he’ll never see again, and it calms him, easing his anxious heart.

Closing his eyes, he takes a deep breath. “You told me that you’d never leave, and you lied,” he admonishes her gently.

***

“Where are you taking me?” I asked.

Phillipe took my hand and tugged it. We seemed to be going in the direction of the hallway near the stairs.

“I have a surprise for you,” he explained.

I could hear the joy in his voice.

“Ooh, I like surprises.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He promised, making me think of all things sexual.

“What kind of surprise?”

He stopped abruptly, forcing me to run into his side. “Well, if I tell you, it won’t be a surprise. Will it?”

Reaching around his body, I moved my hand to touch him.

He moved quickly. “That won’t work, Miss Rosenberg.”

I pursed my lips. “Okay, fine. I only wanted to touch you. Take me and surprise me.”

Before I knew it, his mouth was on mine. He pushed me backward until I felt a wall behind me.

“Stop, Phillipe!” I shrieked and giggled. “Penelope might—”

“By now, Penelope knows to just turn around and walk away.” He growled playfully, nipping my chin.

“What?” I asked after a breathy sigh. “How many times has Penelope walked in?”

Phillipe laughed now, and the deep timbre of it made his chest vibrate against mine. “Oh, too many to count.”

“Like when?” I demanded, slightly horrified by the thought.

“Hmm, the other day down in the kitchen.”

“What?” I shouted, remembering how he’d lifted me up onto the counter.

He grinned against my mouth while one of his large palms stroked my thigh.

“Lift your leg, Chantel. Put it around my waist.”

I complied because I didn’t have the will to say
no
to him, but I was otherwise not deterred. “She walked in on us in the kitchen?”

He unbuttoned and parted my pants before his hand slipped inside. As he found his way into my panties, his fingers slid down between my wet lips.

He groaned against my mouth. “Yes, but you still had your top on.”

Blinking, I let my head fall back against the wall. I pushed my hips out to him, and I thought of what he just told me. “Just my top? I had my top on the whole time.”

He laughed mischievously, as his teeth bit my bottom lip while his thumb brushed over my clit.

“Oh god!” I moaned, arching against his hand.

“Well, you had your panties on,” he stated softly.

His index finger flirted with my soaked core. I sighed and closed my eyes, ready to really let go.

That’s when he smirked against my mouth and added, “They were just around your ankles.”

Mortified, I moved my head away from him, but he chased me and had the advantage of sight. His hungry lips captured mine. His tongue pushed deep inside my mouth while two of his long fingers thrust inside my pussy.

Hearing his groan deep in his throat, I wrapped my arms around his neck as he hoisted me up. His free hand moved under my ass, pulling me toward him tightly, so I was wedged between the wall and his fingers pushing deep inside of me. He dragged his mouth away from mine.

In a voice that sounded strained and stretched beyond its limits, he said, “God, Chantel, your hungry little cunt is always so eager.”

Closing my eyes, I listened as his words washed over me. He started to rhythmically move his fingers in and out of me.

“Yes, Beauty, surrender. That’s right,” he murmured with his lips on my ear. “Give yourself to me.”

I opened my eyes while he continued to finger me.

“Your eyes are so fucking beautiful. Keep them on me. Keep them where my voice is, and I’ll tell you everything you would see.”

Parting my lips, I focused on his voice and let him take me over.

“You’d see a man who can’t keep his eyes away from you and can’t keep his hands off of you. You’d see someone who wants to be your lover…” He punctuated his last word with a deep thrust of his fingers. “Your friend…” With another thrust, the sounds of his fingers pushing through my slick soaked folds filled the space. “Your confidant…” His mouth was at my ear, and he bit the lobe before his fingers started fucking me fast and hard. “Your everything, Chantel. I’ll be
everything
you need.”

His lips were on mine and his hips were moving as if he were inside of me, and in a sense, he was. He crawled deep into my soul and staked his claim.

“You would see I am yours, and you are mine.”

With that, I felt my body clasp around his fingers, and I screamed his name, the intensity of it echoing down the hall for anyone to hear.

I never did get my surprise, but what I did get, I planned to hang on to forever.

Chapter  Eighteen ~ Fleuve Sauvage de Fleurs

Day 13

I did everything I could to avoid seeing Phillipe today. In all honesty, I’m not ready to face him after the way he so coolly dismissed me last night. My pride is still wounded, and I know the best thing for me is avoidance. Instead of sitting for him, I have spent the day organizing my notes and typing up some key pointers on my laptop.

Having just awoken from a nap, I stare at the ceiling in silence as I lie in bed. As the sun disappears and the night begins to engulf the chateau, I get up and start to wrap up for the day. Yesterday evening took a lot out of me, not only physically but mentally. I’m actually starting to believe that I’m
seeing
and
hearing
things. I’m tired, and it’s becoming more and more obvious that I’m far too close to the man at the center of this story.

A loud knock startles me from my troubling thoughts, so I temporarily shelve them. Making my way to the door, I straighten the red blouse, and I open the door to a sober-looking Phillipe. He changed from yesterday’s jeans, and he is now back in all black. He’s wearing black slacks and a black button-up shirt with long sleeves. The coat I saw him in earlier is hanging over his arm, and he has one palm on the doorjamb.

He looks down at me with piercing green eyes. “Evening, Gemma.”

Raising my eyes to his, I somehow find my voice. “Good evening.”

Taking his palm off the jamb, he steps forward. I automatically step aside to let him into the small space that I have been occupying since I arrived nearly two weeks earlier.

I watch his broad shoulders as he advances toward the window. When he reaches it and looks out, I know the view he will see. I instantly feel guilty, as though he’ll know that I watched him down in the arbor earlier this afternoon.

He clasps his hands behind his back, his coat wedged between his wrist and his back. Without turning, he informs me, “We’re going for a walk. I suggest you put on some shoes.”