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Authors: S.E. Chardou

Killing Time (16 page)

BOOK: Killing Time
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“He literally tells them when they can use the toilet, take a shower, when they are allowed to feel pain and pleasure. I don’t condone my brother’s lifestyle but I can’t quite condemn him either because he has always been there for me in a way you can’t understand unless you have an identical twin. It’s a very strange relationship we have but . . . it’s functional and it works. I suppose I am not a true Dom especially if I am dependent on someone else to make me feel safe and that person is Severin, not me.”

I don’t know why I wanted to reach out and touch him at all but I needed the human connection and I could only hope he wouldn’t reject me. I slipped my arm around his waist and leaned against him. He slid his arms around my naked waist and pulled me closer to him. There wasn’t anything sexual to it; truly we were two people who desired skin-to-skin contact if only not to feel alone in a world so dark, desolate and cold.

“Come on, let’s go get a drink. A little bird told me you aren’t expected back in the city until tonight. So, you can have a glass or two of Cristal with me?”

I didn’t know exactly what it was about him but the way he casually suggested I stay longer made me smile before I said, “I sure can.”

It was so strange to me how easily we could transition back to that place of being friends. I could understand why my sister felt safe with him and why she was loathe to leave him despite their rather strange sexual practices. If it made her happy then who was I to judge her?

I was one to think about not so usual sexual practices when I had experienced a double penetration that morning. That was definitely something to leave out telling future generations if I ever decided to spit out a kid or two.

We stood and walked to the kitchen together and it wasn’t until we got there, I realized his left hand was holding my right. When did that happen? When did we become so close it was okay for us to touch each other without it being the least bit sexual?

Rory let go and opened the fridge to take out a bottle of Cristal. As I watched him uncork and pour, my breath caught in my throat as my heart thundered in my chest with an intensity that frightened the shit out me.

What the hell was going on neither of us wanted to acknowledge to each other out loud?

What did it mean for the future—did we even have one between us?

Most importantly, what did this mean for us?

Chapter Nine

 

 

 

YOU FEEL NOTHING FOR THIS
man
, my inner voice warned me.

Could that same rational part of my brain communicate this pertinent and important information to my heart? I began to breathe hard until I was wheezing like a goddamn asthmatic and I slowly sank to the floor. The tears came before I could stop them and I had to cover my face out of embarrassment and fear. This wasn’t supposed to happen and I would never forgive myself for this. I promised myself no one would ever touch my heart the way Renaud had and there I was— back in a situation so beyond my control, I couldn’t properly breathe.

Rory was immediately at my side and all I could do was read his lips because I couldn’t hear his voice above my own heartbeat. I was falling apart in front of a man and I cursed my fucking weaknesses. I was stronger than this. I was a smart, independent woman who didn’t need anyone to make it on my own. Just like that, I decided I wouldn’t allow myself to fall, least of all for Rory Krieger.

Slowly, his concerned voice came into focus and my anxiety attack began to wane. I didn’t feel completely out of control anymore and my ragged breath began to fade away.

“Breathe deeply, okay? It’ll ease you back down, okay?”

I nodded my head as Severin walked into the kitchen and glared at us though his focus was primarily on me. I could feel his gaze burn over my skin as I allowed Rory to help me up off the floor.

“I didn’t realize you liked bottoming out so much. Looks like my brother dearest has found a replacement for Trésor—his poor dead pain whore.”

I saw red and before Rory could stop me, I stormed at Severin and pushed him so hard he fell on his ass. “You take that back, you fucking pompous asshole! My sister is dead and you talk about her like that? You’re just jealous you couldn’t turn her into another Claudette. Is that why you killed her?”

Severin’s aquamarine eyes shined with hatred as he shot daggers at me up and down. Even in his subordinate position, he commanded an overwhelming power and studious demand I bow down to him. I forced myself to look away before I did something I regretted.

“Calm down, he didn’t mean what he said. He’s just upset—”


What? And I’m not?
” I screamed at him.

“I didn’t mean it like that. Come with me.” Rory grabbed the bottle of Cristal before he slid his arm around my waist.

As we passed, Severin stood and murmured, “
Du gehörst zu mir . . . nicht vergessen.

I didn’t bother to ask what he meant though Rory said something mumbled in German to his brother before we strode to his bedroom and he closed the doors behind us and turned the lock on the door knob.

“What was that about?”

Rory still faced the double doors. “Trouble between my brother and I but nothing for you to worry about.”

I walked toward him but stopped as he turned toward me. “What did he say to you?”

“To paraphrase, ‘I should remember I belong to him.’ It can be misinterpreted—it doesn’t mean the way it sounds. I merely replied ‘I don’t belong to anyone but myself,’ but that was meant to hurt him. It was all so immature and unnecessary . . . I don’t want to talk about it.”

He looked at the sheets and scrunched his face up in disgust before he strode to the bed and began to strip it. Was this his version of a panic attack? The bottle of champagne had been left on the floor in a precarious position and I grabbed it as he continued to take the linens off the pillowcases.

There was a fireplace that had never been used with a gorgeous brick mantelpiece. I placed it there before I approached him reluctantly and touched his shoulder. He whipped around to face me, his expression contorted into a mask of anger and rage.

At the look of fright on my face, his features softened as he grabbed me possessively before he kissed me long and hard against my mouth. I allowed his tongue to probe my mouth and I surrendered to the sensation because I wanted to do anything it took to calm him down.

We finally separated. “I’m sorry . . . this is going to be impossible and I can’t do this. I won’t let you go tonight because that arrogant prick doesn’t deserve you. You’re an amazing woman and to think . . . you are going back to that . . . smug son of a bitch who will never appreciate you.”

I chewed on my lip that had started to swell from our bruising kiss. “No, I’m not.”

“What?”

“Who is Gabriel and why should I talk to him?” I wondered out loud, purposely changing the subject.

Rory sat on the stripped bed and ran his hands over his face. “He’s our attorney and financial advisor. I specifically told him not to contact you until after the funeral because…I didn’t want you to be upset or think I was trying to buy you.”

I looked at him though he did not meet my gaze. “What’s going on, Rory?”

“Your sister left her monetary wealth to your parents. It isn’t much but they will have a nice retirement and knowing your parents, they’ll be okay. I didn’t understand her decision nor did I think it was right. I’d always put aside some money for her and when she died, you inherited it. It’s not a fortune but I think it will give you the financial freedom you require,” he explained before his blue-green eyes met mine.

“How much is it?” I questioned while keeping my voice calm and even-toned.

“Does it matter if you’re not going to accept it? This was before I knew who you were. I only knew she had a sister and I decided you should inherit her money if anything were to happen to her. I found out later . . . who you were . . . your reputation and your dedication to the
truth
.”

Was he mocking my profession?

“You don’t like what I do?”

“What? Journalism? It was one time a very noble profession but now it is chasing down the Kardashian sisters and their latest lovers. Or wondering when the latest one-hit-wonder will be exposed with an ill-timed sex tape to revive their waning career. It isn’t a profession I consider with any conviction or ethics what so ever, that’s for sure,” he replied in a snide tone.

I laughed. “I don’t do the entertainment section and you know it. I do the hard core stories and investigative journalism—”

“Yes, I know. You were one of the first journalists in harm’s way during the whole ‘Arab Spring’ uprisings and you do stories about Tibet and Darfur and Myanmar and Timor. I’m not ignorant in the way of the world. I attended the University of Munich at the age of sixteen and graduated with a Bachelor of Science in Business Administration. I received my Masters in Business Admin from Columbia University at the age of twenty-one
and
have a Doctorate in Philosophy from Harvard in Political Economy and Government. I followed the same path as your current President so…you don’t have to try to educate me about the world’s issues. I know them a little bit too well.

“My point is what good does it do to talk about these places and what’s going on there if you have absolutely no fucking clue how to change the course of the situation? The problems are a little more complex than having a fund raiser with George Clooney and throwing money at the ‘issue’ before turning your attention to yet another bleeding heart cause in the world.”

“What would you propose I do?” I shot back, not bothering to hide my frustration. “I will take your fucking money—however much it is—and probably give half of it to these ‘worthless’ causes but it will make me feel better and I know at the end of the day although it’s probably useless but . . . it’s better than doing nothing at all. I am so scared that what we have lost most is our humanity and our ability to feel. Is that what attracted you to the lifestyle in the first place? Is feeling pain or pleasure better than feeling nothing at all?”

I closed my eyes and before I could open them, I felt him next to me and his hand, so soft and hot, was running down my bare arm. It was the most exquisite and beautiful feeling on earth.

“Yes, the experience of pleasure and pain is better than feeling nothing at all. You want to know why? It is the feeling of being alive instead of subsisting through life as if we are already dead. Do you think you are the only one who walks through life numb, Aurélie? We Germans have turned it into a proper blood sport. To feel dedication and passion for
anything
is to be reminded of our fanatical history so we prefer to feel
nothing
at all. Everything is mechanical and precise and perfect. Alas, perfection does not exist but we hopelessly strive for this fantasy to be fulfilled.”

I sagged against his hard body and slipped my arms around his neck as his hands wandered down to cup my breasts. I could feel the outline of his hard cock against my back and I murmured as he ripped my bikini top and teased my nipples with nimble fingers. His mouth sank down to my neck and left hard sucks and bite marks against my neck in his last effort to claim me for as long as we had together.

“I thought you couldn’t do this?” I questioned breathlessly.

“I can’t and I shouldn’t but you . . .
du faszinieren und erschrecken mich
.”


J'ai peur aussi
,” I whispered, “but I am more afraid of
not
doing this with you than I am of continuing.”

Rory flipped me around and pressed my breasts to his clothed chest. “One more time . . . and then we will say goodbye to each other?”

“Yes, just once more and then we let go forever.”

It was so easy for me to fall back into his embrace, which felt like a welcome home and this time, there were no games yet there were no rules either. He kissed me slowly, passionately, and I swear I felt like a teenager again. I could spend hours in his arms as heat and juices flooded the bottom half of my bikini with overwhelming warmth. The feeling was so explosive and unexpected; it threatened to burn me in a fiery inferno to last all of eternity.

His hands, once so cruel, were like silk upon my skin and when he touched me between my legs, it was a gentle caress to soothe an ache the likes of which I had never experienced. I felt safe and secure though I should have taken little solace in this knowledge; it overwhelmed me with joy and pleasure.

I sighed as his fingers undid the little bows on the side of my bikini and it dropped to the floor before I hoisted myself around his waist and he didn’t let go of me. His fingers were too busy trying to unbutton his jeans and I impaled myself on his cock the moment it was exposed.

We moaned together as he began to fuck me painfully slow where he stood and I tried to control our movements but it was an awkward position to be in and allowed him full control over our sex.

I wondered if he wanted to dominate me at all when he whispered in my ear, “Don’t you fucking come until I say so.”

BOOK: Killing Time
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ads

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