My Billionaire Stranger (19 page)

The way he says ‘not with us’ sounds like he wasn’t simply fired from the job…but something more permanent. A chill runs up my spine, and I shiver as he continues, “Anyway she insisted on working in the club and when I refused to allow it she threatened to quit and work in a different club where I would not be able to keep an eye on her.  I chose the lesser of the two evils and I let her strip in my club.” He pauses and I get the feeling he’s done talking, but I stay quiet, afraid that if I interrupt he may clam up and stop letting me in. He continues. “I was so angry when she threw the life that I had given her away like it was nothing, I wanted to punish her and I did, in the most twisted way I could. I knew it would be easy to make her to fall in love with me, she already loved me like a brother or a father so transitioning that relationship into a sexual one was child’s play. I tortured her for years, allowing her to believe there was a future with me for a while and then showing her how little she meant to me by dating other women right under her nose. We would argue, she would take me back and I’d do it again and again. I secretly hated her for wasting my generosity. I made her into something good and pure and she threw it away to be a fucking stripper and let men chain her up and fuck her for money. The night of the accident I was driving her home after closing the club. She told me she needed to take our relationship to another level, she wanted me to stop having sex with other women forever.” His cold glare frightens me, as well as his evil admissions.

“What does that have to do with the accident?”

“We were arguing, I was distracted, furiously yelling at her and she at me. I thought I had control of the car, we swerved a few times when she swiped at me but I was in control. I don’t know how we went over that bridge; my memory between fighting and seeing her floating lifeless in the seat next to me has been erased. One minute she was screaming that she couldn't live with out me the next she was gone. She died on impact, the coroner told me her neck snapped, she didn’t suffer. Elena put together a service for her. I don’t know why, she had no family; the only people who showed up were her junkie friends and some of the staff from Dominus. She sent me the ashes, Megan didn’t have anybody who would want them.” Silence blankets the room; the only sound I can hear is my heart beating violently in my chest. I want to leave, this isn’t the man I love. The Marcus I know would never play with a young woman’s love that way.

When I was in that coma I wanted to let the darkness take me, I felt so guilty knowing that I hurt Megan purposely; I should have never touched her. She was like my little sister for Christ’s sake it was so wrong, I knew she loved me but I didn’t care, she pissed me off by getting into drugs and essentially blackmailing me into allowing her work for me as a stripper. I thought she deserved it after all I did for her.”

I gasp and pull away from him heedlessly and he closes his eyes, shaking his head. “This is why we can never talk of this again.”

“Wait… I remember you saying you wanted to let the darkness take you. But you hung on…why?”  I already know the answer to my question; he’s told me before that my words kept him anchored to this world. But after that story I need reminding of his goodness, of our connection and even more importantly that he’s not a monster.

“You…you were my savior Imani, you know you were. Your voice, your words, your music, they called to me they kept me holding on. I had to stay alive so I could get to you.” He’s pleading with his eyes for me to understand, to accept all that he’s done. And amazingly I do. There isn’t anything from his past that could drive me away, he owns me, I am his. He is my Dominus the Master and Lord of my heart. I cannot admit this to him now, exposing myself like that to anyone could be a fatal risk. He is or used to be capable of destroying a woman’s heart effortlessly, I can’t let him know how easily he could ruin me, and he could ruin me completely.

Chapter 24

Magically Maria appears at the bedroom door, knocking lightly on the frame, it’s open, as usual. “You need something Senior Castillo?” she asks timidly.

“Yes Maria take this and put it in my office, I’ll put it away later.” He holds out the urn and her eyes widen for a split second before she hurries to the bed to retrieve it. I watch her bustle away, carrying the last of Megan.

“How did she know you needed her?” I ask, baffled as to where she must keep herself to be at his disposal so quickly.

“She knows,” he answers flatly, as if that were an answer at all.

“What do you mean
she knows
?” 

“Just what I said, she knows.” That’s not the answer I want and he knows it he’s being stubborn. Rolling my eyes, I step away from the bed, all of the information he has just provided is swimming around in my head. This is not at all how I expected our relaxing evening in with pizza and a movie going. I need to get lost, I need music, I need a book, online shopping, anything normal and familiar to get my mind off all of this crap. “I’m not in the mood for a movie, can we just eat, listen to some music and go to bed?” Oh please, please, just don’t argue with me I pray silently.

“Yes, we can just eat, listen to music and go to bed Imani,” he says with a sigh and a touch of regret in his voice.

“Ok” Studying my feet and fiddling with the belt of my robe, part of me wants to take off into my room to sort this shit out. But I know he won’t allow it, he was apprehensive about telling me this story and with good reason. Any woman with any sense at all would have been out of here a long time ago but I’m in too deep now, if I try to escape he’ll follow me. The other part of me wins, the crazy part that craves Marcus’s presence and his endless ability to distract me. I lay my iPad down and turn on one of my favorite a playlists. Scooting across the bed while he opens the pizza box the notes from the first song on the playlist float through the room. After a few bars he stills to search my eyes. “I remember this,” he says softly. I’d almost forgotten that this was the music I played for him when he was unconscious. “Why do I remember it, who is the band?”

“Of Monsters and Men,” I say, tilting my head to the side to look at him out of one eye.

“I don’t listen to them, where do I know this from?” He bows his head closing his eyes in concentration when he suddenly looks up at me. “You played this for me, when I was asleep, you played music for me didn’t you?”

“Yes. I did.”

“Can you start it over? I want to listen to the words.” The song is half way through. “Why?” I ask.

“I just do.” There’s a long pause while I sit staring at him. “Please,” he asks, and that’s all it takes for me. When he acts like a gentleman I’m putty in his hands. I replay the song; the artists take turns singing the verses while he closes his eyes, listening closely.

“
I’m looking for a place to start

But everything feels so different now

Just grab ahold of my hand

I will lead you through this wonderland

As the soft walls eat us alive”

The song continues and we sit listening together to lyrics that I never imagined I would relate to. When I made this playlist I chose songs I liked, things that moved me or invoked emotions whether they were familiar or foreign I added them to the collection. 

“Imani you are my yellow light.” Impulsively I crawl across the bed accidentally pushing the pizza box off onto the floor and straddle his beautiful chiseled body. I am so very grateful he hasn’t disappointed me in the distraction department. With greedy hands I hold his face and kiss his mouth with a fever unmatched until this moment. His hands roam my body sliding over my shoulders searching my back and seizing my ass pulling me close to grind his length against the exact spot that sends electrical jolts from my chest to my core. My hands are everywhere at once desperately trying to get closer to him. I need him inside of me
now
. He pushes the silk robe off of my shoulders and I fervently slip my arms out as he continues with my tank top. I only move my lips away for a microsecond to allow him room to yank the tank over my head, and then our mouths crash together again. I kiss a blazing trail down the side of his neck where his blood pulses through his arteries under my lips, to his chest where his heart pounds furiously and ending at the edge of the pajama pants that he begrudgingly wears for me. I pause to look into his heavy lidded bedroom eyes and drink in the lust there until one corner of his lip lifts in that sexy fucking smirk. Without an ounce of restraint left I pull at the elastic waist of his pants, his hips thrust up immediately allowing me to remove them. I kneel between his legs moving down his body while taking his pants with me until finally I stand on the mattress and shimmy out of my shorts, dropping them on the floor next to us and into a pile of pizza and clothes. I press pause on my sudden attack to admire Marcus lying under me, hard as hell and ready, I can’t wait another second, I nudge his legs together with my foot and drop to my knees hovering over him, teasing him until he’s finished being tempted. He takes control as only he can, guiding my hips down until he slides his impressive length into the hot liquid of my sex plunging into me again and again I meet him thrust for thrust until he begins circling my clit with his thumb.

My head swims from all of the simultaneous stimulation, my heart hammers in it’s cage and I’m panting so hard and I can hardly breathe. I don’t think I’ll survive the delicious torture one second longer when Marcus plunges into me so deep that my vision goes white. I gasp and he intensifies the penetration by sitting up until he is so deep I don’t know where I stop and he begins. Wrapping our arms around each other our mouths reconnect and our tongues circle with an indescribable hunger. He begins lifting my body and I ride his thick cock sliding up and down a fire builds inside my belly that begs to be extinguished, I hold on sensing he isn’t fully satisfied yet. Matching the increasing intensity of the music that builds and builds, his thrusts become faster more demanding until he interrupts the sounds of our heavy breathing, panting and the slapping of our slick bodies.

“Now Imani!” We explode together in a supernova orgasm that simultaneously claims every cell in our bodies. We yell one another’s names; the moment is so intense it’s impossible to focus. The music fades away taking our little moment of heaven with it. Holding each other tightly we come down together and the playlist continues to ‘Stay’ by Rihanna. Pulling away, his loving eyes convey the meaning of the song straight through my heart… he wants me to stay. Overcome by emotion, tears slide down my cheeks, and he sweeps them away with his thumbs in a sweet gesture of understanding. He places his cheek against mine and sings with Rihanna into my ear. I’m blown away by his beautiful voice, he can really sing. When the song is done he backs away from me. “Will you?” Understanding exactly what he’s asking I answer with no hesitation. “I’ll stay, I promise,” I whisper. He lowers our bodies down and gently shifts me into our sleeping position. I rest my cheek against his chest and listen to his heartbeat until sleep claims my sated contented body.

Chapter 25

“Imani.” Marcus nudges me softly with his shoulder. “Imani.” He says again, only slightly louder.  I snap my eyes open, trying to see something in the dark room. Except for the soft glow of Marcus’s ‘night-light’ as I have come to think of it the room is pitch black.

“Hmmm?”

“You fell asleep.”

“Um… yea.” So it appears but I’m wondering what the problem is with this situation. “You didn’t take anything, I was worried you might have a nightmare, I stayed awake as long as I could watching you but I need to close my eyes for a few minutes.” Propping up on my shoulder I look at the time. Shit! It’s 4:30 a.m. I haven’t slept this long without a sleeping pill or a nightmare for…well for 10 years!

“Shit, I’m sorry. You didn’t have to do that, you should have woken me earlier!” “Baby, you were sleeping so well, there was no way in hell I was going to interrupt that.  I enjoy watching you sleep. All of your wheels stop, the worry melts away, every muscle on your face relaxes, you are so peaceful…” he says, brushing the back of his knuckles against my cheek.

“I haven’t slept without a nightmare since it happened,” I whisper. “I figured as much, another reason I let you be.” He smiles.

“Thank you.”

“You my dear are very welcome,” He says, feathering his hand from my cheek down my shoulder to my arm ending by entwining his fingers with mine. I follow his hand until it meets mine. He hesitates a few beats before he offers me another piece of him, of his history. “I have nightmares too.”

“I remember, I heard you once when you were in the hospital.”

“Oh yes, you did that’s right.” Not wanting to extinguish the beginning of a new chapter from the life of Marcus I try to keep him talking.

“Why…do you have them?” His eyes close and I sense he’s changing his mind about opening up so I lower myself off of my elbow and snuggle into his side. Maybe if he doesn’t have to look directly into my eyes it will be easier. I know it worked for me when I told my story to a therapist. His body relaxes microscopically and he begins again, “I did not have the best childhood, actually that is putting it extremely mildly. My mother, was…. ill…. mentally ill…schizophrenic.” He pauses for my reaction from me but I give him nothing. This is important; I intentionally work to reign in my feelings until he can say what he needs to say. “My sister and I were left home with her a lot, my father traveled for work and he was in serious denial of my mother’s condition. Elena and I had no idea what was wrong with her, but we knew enough to know that other children’s mothers didn’t act like ours. She was delusional, psychotic, and abusive, she had hallucinations. She forced new religions and beliefs on us every week. We barely slept trying to stand guard and protect each other.  She starved us in the name of sacrifice to whatever god she was worshipping at the moment. We were locked us up in dark closets to pray for hours on end. Teachers and people in the community turned a blind eye to us; no one understood mental illness back then. Every one knew something was wrong, but my father was an influential man and they followed his lead, ignoring all of the obvious signs of abuse. We thought it was our fault, why else would a mother treat her kids that way?” When he pauses the enormity of his pain starts to sink in, how could two little kids survive with no hope of ever being rescued from the abusive hands of their own mother? “What about your family, didn’t they suspect? Why didn’t anyone intervene?”

“No Imani they did not, they couldn’t. My family had connections and my father was not someone they wanted to cross. Being on my father’s bad side could be fatal…except for my Aunt Angelica. She never gave a fuck about what my father said. She was the strongest woman I ever new, until I met you. She was his sister and she was blind but that woman never feared him, she was fierce and I could never understand why. Elena and I would sneak to Aunt Angelica’s house when mother went to sleep and that was not very often. She would feed us, bathe us, stroke our cheeks and show us love like no one else in the world. But she had no choice but to send us home; she knew my mother was sick, but she also knew her limitations, she was a Band-Aid on a critically hemorrhaging wound. She did what she could and we clung to these moments desperately. My dad had been gone on business for over a month, Elena and I were down to anorexic weights and exhausted from guarding each other every night. Mother went over the edge. We were ten years old and she came at Elena with a butcher knife screaming that she had swapped a sacred pendant with an alien so they could spy on her. She smashed through our bedroom door, we always kept a chair shoved under the door nob but that night she smashed through it and held the knife to Elena's throat.” I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath until he stopped talking.

“What did she do to Elena?” I whispered.

“I talked her out of slitting her throat, told her that it was me who switched the fucking pendants. She turned on me and we fought- I was a ten year old boy, malnourished, completely vulnerable and weak there was no way I could fend her off. She stabbed me. That was the last time in my life that I did not have complete control over everything. I will never again allow myself to be exposed or vulnerable. I take care of myself and I don’t love anyone.” Gasping I tighten my hold on him.

“What happened to you?”

“She stabbed me, most of the wounds were superficial, but in the end she shoved it low into my belly, I thought she was going to cut my fucking dick off. I nearly bled out all over the bedroom floor.”

“Oh my God, Oh my God!” The scars, that’s what caused them. The thought of Marcus’s mother stabbing her own son physically nauseates me. Swallowing back the bile in my throat I pray that he’s finished with his story but he’s not.

“The sight of all the blood stunned her for a moment I guess, long enough for Elena to slip out and run for Aunt Angelica, who sent police and an ambulance. They took us all to the hospital where I underwent surgery. Elena was given IV fluids and they fed her. Mother was committed to the psychiatric ward and Aunt Angelica stayed with us until our Dad came home. That is why I will never have children; the scar tissue and a severe infection that developed as a result of the stabbing made me sterile. My own mother almost killed me and stole any hope of having a wife and family from me forever.” Fucking hell. I went through torture but it was at the hands of strangers not family. I can’t imagine a mother attacking her son like that.

“I.... I don’t know what to say, I’m so sorry Marcus.”

“I don’t want your pity any more than you want mine for what happened to you.  I thought you should know what you are dealing with here I owe you that. My shit is seriously fucked up Imani and I want you, fuck I want you so much. But you should know all of it before we go any further.”

He’s giving me an out, but he has no idea that it’s impossible for me to take it, no matter what he tells me. I’m in this all the way there’s no going back. I’ve been hiding this from him to an extent, guarding my heart, knowing that he could crush it so easily. But now he needs to know how much I care, how far I would go for him. “Marcus you took my breath away the moment I saw you in that hospital bed and I haven’t been the same since. I’m drawn to you the way the moon is drawn to the earth I have no control. I couldn’t stop my heart from loving you if I wanted to.” Oh God, I want to vomit, shit who am I kidding I just did! I’ve just love puked all over Marcus. We turn until our bodies are molded together. Scooping my hair out of the crook of my neck he fans it out on the pillow behind me. I sigh as he trails his fingers up and down my bareback. If I could have one wish it would be to stay in this moment forever, feeling close to him, warm, safe loved and cherished.

His hand leaves my skin and I hear a click followed by  a piece of beautiful classical music that I don’t recognize but it makes me melt into him. He knows how to take a wonderful moment and make it perfect. Sometimes when things are too perfect though uneasiness creeps into my soul, spreading through my body, wreaking havoc. Marcus senses it. “Stop worrying.”

“How do you know I’m worrying?”

“I know everything.” I can hear the smile in his voice and some of that uneasiness evaporates.

“Ok Mr. Genius, if you know so much tell me, what do I want to do right now?”

“You want to take a bath with me,” Hmm, not what I was thinking exactly but it sounds like an excellent idea.

“Holy shit, you
do
know everything don’t you?”

“Yes, I would never lie to you.”

“I thought you were tired.”

“I’m feeling a second wind coming on,” he chuckles.

“How do you propose we take a bath with you in a cast?”

“Imani, we have figured out how to do just about everything with this fucking cast in the way, bag it up and I will hold it on the edge of the tub, come on.” I hear a pop and feel the sting of a slap on my ass.

“Hey!”

“Up woman, let us bathe.” Personality change, or playful Marcus? I wonder.  Who cares, I love it! Crawling from the bed it occurs to me that there is no tub in his Taj Mahal shower.

“So, there’s no tub in there, where we going to take a bath?” I ask, hitching my thumb toward his bathroom.

“Your bathroom, but of course,” he says with fanfare.

“Oh, of course how silly of me.” I say rolling my eyes.  My bathroom, huh? I’ve only used it once but it does have a gorgeous claw foot tub. So we set out at almost 6 a.m. to take a bath.

In my lavender bathroom I set about running the water very hot the way I like it while Marcus leans against the vanity. He follows my every move until I kneel down at his feet in front of him to cover his leg with a plastic bag to keep it dry. After making his way to the tub, he smiles confidently and hands me his crutches. Curious as to how he plans on entering the water I watch him perch on the edge of the tub facing me for a moment.  Twisting his torso he reaches behind him to the other side of the tub. Lifting all six feet four inches of his body weight with his arms like a gymnast on parallel bars he lowers himself into the water while resting his cast on the edge of the tub.

“Impressive upper body strength Mr. Castillo,” I say biting my lip.

“Mmm you ain’t seen anything yet. Wait until this thing is off and I will impress you with my
lower
body strength.”  I giggle at his use of slang, it sounds so funny coming from Mr. proper English. That damn smirk is back in full force, eyewink and all. I shiver,  not from the cold but from the thought of Marcus at full strength, it’s pretty damned perfect now, I can’t imagine it getting any better. “Get in, you’re cold,” he orders, mistaking my shiver for a chill.

Before I can lower myself down into the scorching hot water, he holds me still by my thighs. I feel the sting of his hand as he caresses the perfect red handprint on my ass. “You have such beautiful skin baby. Come here.” I sit down and scoot back between his legs, his arms circle me and I’m pulled in close, my back against his front. His cock presses full and thick, into my back.

“Water too hot?” I ask.

“No, not at all.” he answers. His strong hands glide over my caramel skin rippling the water until he curls his arms under mine. I drop my head back onto his shoulder and turn my face to his waiting lips; he kisses me gently before licking a trail across my bottom lip urging them apart. I part my lips to allow him access but he continues to tease me with his tongue, nipping and sucking lightly. When I feel him pull away I whimper at the loss of his warm mouth on mine, he smiles against my cheek before he reaches to a table next to the tub for a bottle of body wash. My pulse races as I watch him squeeze the heavenly smelling gel into his hand. Nudging me forward he begins washing my back, circling his fingers over my trapezius muscles all of the tension in my body is immediately released. I drop my chin to my chest as his hands glide around to pinch each of my sensitive nipples lightly. I inhale sharply and he continues down my belly between my legs.

“Braid your hair real quick for me baby,” he says, in that godforsaken seductive voice of his and I immediately comply, braiding the ultra-long mess. “Mmmm better, I can see all of you now,” he says while he continues to slowly circle my clit with the fingers of his right hand while the left travels back to my breast. Rolling my nipple while he masterfully strokes my clit he finds a rhythm that launches me out of this universe. His breath on my shoulder is electric, my God how do I recognize my limits, how do I know if I can tolerate any more?  Arching my back I surrender it all to him pressing my breast further into his hand.

“You like that, don’t you baby? Just. Like. That,” he says with a guttural groan. God I could have never imagined a more erotic scene than the one I see in the mirror on the wall at the end of the tub. Skin beaded with sweat, steam coming off the water, our eyes heavy with desire, he slides two fingers inside of me and continues stroking my clit with his thumb. That’s it, it’s over for me, I come hard, unexpectedly. Throwing my head back on Marcus ’s shoulder I grip the edges of the tub.

“Ahhhh!” My head is foggy from the heat of the bathroom and the heat we’re making together. When I’ve recovered just enough to open my eyes I see him staring back at me in the mirror with a tinge of his trademark smirk on his lips.

“I love watching you come.” He says setting his chin on my shoulder.

“I love when you make me come.” Finally, something we agree on 100%. He scoots me up in the tub in front of him and unbraids my hair. Pressing my shoulders gently down I cross my arms over my chest and allow him to submerge my body long enough to wet my hair. Breaking the surface face first I slide back into position in front of him. Shampoo in his hands he starts to work at washing my hair, which is no easy job; my hair is long and after all of our bedroom gymnastics lately it’s become very tangled. He works silently and meticulously starting at my scalp massaging and lathering. It’s amazing how such a mundane everyday task can be so tender and intimate. No one has washed my hair for me since I was a little girl. When he has finally worked his way to the ends of my hair he leans closer to kiss the side of my neck. After repeating the process he gets silly dunking me several times under the water, by the time we are finished I’m a bundle of giggles.