His Absolute Betrayal - Elise's Love Story: The Billionaire's Continuum (#2) (A Contemporary Romance Novel) (11 page)

I opened that one, but this time the lights were already on.

This was... a very strange room.  I didn't quite know what to make of it, and if someone asked I'd be hardpressed to describe its contents, too.

There were more doors here.  One on each wall, actually.  I wondered if they all led to small bedrooms like the one I'd come through.  Possibly, but each door was closed, so I couldn't say for sure.  None of that mattered right now.

What mattered were the things in the room.  Things might be a generous word for what I found.

All sorts of assorted devices hung on the walls, filling every conceivable space, sort of.  Side to side, different shapes and sizes, odd implements dangled from hooks, or sat on shelves, or occasionally they just lay there, leaning.  On one end of the room beside one of the doors sat a large cross-shaped object, with two leather shackles near the base and two more on each arm of the cross.  The center of the room contained a plush bed with dark red satin sheets.  A closed trunk sat opposite the cross, too.

All in all, it looked very similar to some sort of torture room.

I recognized some of the things hanging on the walls, but not all of them.  Whips, riding crops, paddles.  More than one, too; many in different shapes and sizes.  A few ball gags... and were those butt plugs?  Huh.  They started small, then went larger than I thought was necessary.  I wasn't altogether interested in that sort of thing.

I walked towards the chest and tried to open it, but a lock on the front kept my curiosity at bay.  Instead, I moved to the bed and touched the soft sheets, then I went to the cross.  I grabbed one of the shackles on the right arm and pulled.  The leather felt soft and supple between my fingers, but comfort belied strength and it stayed firmly in place when I tugged at it.  Strong, I thought.

I'd seen this, I realized.  A little different in its construction, and not nearly as nice, but sometimes at Sam's club, Carousel, during BDSM showings, people used them.  A dominant and his submissive would go up on stage and he'd shackle her onto the cross, then perform a scene with her, showing her off to the crowd.

I briefly remembered the one and only scene I'd performed there.  It wasn't with Lucent, oh no, not at all.  It was a mistake, and a terrible accident.  That was before I knew him as well and before I understood him more.  I wanted to make him jealous; or partly so.  I also wanted to show him that I could handle his BDSM things.

That's what I thought I was doing, at least.  Except, no, I wasn't.  Instead I was playing a part in some twisted and sick game that Cole Dyerhaven came up with.  He wasn't into BDSM, he was into abuse and hurting people.  I wanted to prove myself to Lucent, but all I'd ended up doing was proving myself a fool and an idiot.  The thought made me ill.

And I was going to write about that, wasn't I?  Yes, I supposed so.  I'd started writing about Lucent and I, but unfortunately Cole was a part of our story, too.  What should I even bother writing about him?

He leered down at me and brushed aside his dark hair.  "Reveal yourself to me," he said.  "Open your coat."

"I'd rather wait until we're inside," I said.  "It's cold out here and someone might see me and..."

He glared down at me.  Why?  "If you're not willing to submit to me, I must be wasting my time."

"What?" I stammered.  It hurt.  It didn't hurt because of this person saying it to me, Cole, some random man I'd spoken with a handful of times through email.  It hurt because it sounded similar to what Lucent had said the other day.

You can't accept what I need, nor what I want.  You act like this is some game, Miss Tanner, and you wait here, thinking that I'll treat you like a poor, homeless kitten and take you in, except I don't want that.  I want a slave.  I want you to bow to my every whim and ignore every possible concept of pleasuring yourself so that you can perfectly pleasure me.  I require submission and you offer me defiance instead?

Dejected, feeling so lost and hopeless, realizing that Lucent wasn't the only one who found me a waste of time, I slumped forward.  I stared at the ground, pathetic and alone.

I could do this, though.  I didn't need to defy everyone, did I?  I didn't necessarily want to.  I was just curious.  I... I wanted Lucent to understand and accept me, and...

Slowly, I unbuttoned my coat and opened it.  Cole ogled me openly, admiring my outfit.

I couldn't write it down on my computer, so I did it mentally, remembering every piece of it.

It hurt.  I didn't want to remember that.  Cole wanted me to reveal myself to him?  When I first met him, I thought he knew about BDSM and how to help me with it, so I could get closer to Lucent.  When he told me to buy a fake leather skirt that hugged at my ass and my thighs, along with fishnet stockings, and black heels, I just sort of went along with it.  I didn't know anything about domination or submission then except for the small few things Lucent and I had done together.

I wore the matching tube top that showed my midriff, just like Cole asked.  I looked like some submissive slut, just waiting to be fucked.  I looked weak and helpless.  At the time I thought that's what submission was about, that submitting to someone was about making yourself as pitiful as possible.

That wasn't what it was about, though.  I still didn't fully understand everything, but there was strength in submission, too.  Letting Lucent spank me or tie me up or dominate me wasn't a sign of weakness,  I
let
Lucent do those things, because I trusted him.  I allowed him to control me, because I was in command of myself and only I could tell someone what they could or couldn't do to me.

Yes, true, once I accepted that, he was quite good at using his understanding of the situation to play Master to my attempt at submission, but it was only when I accepted him in that role that he would ever do it.

It was different.  Lucent asked, and he offered.  Cole took, and he refused anything to the contrary.  It was possible they did slightly similar things, or at least the act of them, but their completely opposite mindsets and thought processes guiding their actions made an entire world of difference.

Or that's what I thought before.  I still thought it somewhat, but I wasn't entirely sure if I could trust Lucent now.  I didn't know what he was doing, or why he was doing it.  I didn't know if he brought me here to hurt me, or because he thought he could trust me, too.  I didn't know who Elle was or why she had some torture dungeon BDSM lair in the middle of her house.  I didn't even know why her apartment was so peculiar.  It struck me as extremely odd that some submissive woman should have something this extravagant.

I was kind of a submissive woman and I didn't have anything near as extravagant as this.  Did I want it?  Probably not, because the entire place confused me.  I liked the small apartment I shared with Vanessa, and I liked the fact that it only had a few rooms.  How many rooms did someone need, really?  A bedroom, a bathroom, a kitchen, and a living room.  Maybe a dining room, but just a nice table set off to the side in the living room worked well enough for me.

Lucent had a lot of rooms in his apartment, too, and for the life of me I couldn't figure out why.  More than half of them were empty and unused most of the time, so what was the point?

I realized something suddenly.  This room was unused, too, wasn't it?  It looked it.  No one came here often, if I had to guess.  The paddles and the cross and the other BDSM implements looked well taken care of, though.  Someone came in here to clean, at least, even if they didn't do much else.  I didn't know for sure if they didn't do much else, but it was just a hunch I had.  Everything looked too orderly, and rooms that were used too often never looked that way.

Mainly, I thought this way, because I thought I could understand Elle to some degree.  If Lucent left me, like he must have left her, I doubted I'd want anyone else for a long long time.  Though, when had he left her?  Did he ever actually leave her?

I shouldn't ask myself those questions.  Questions like that only led to pain and heartache.

I sat on the edge of the bed, then gave in and flopped onto it.  Back down, face up, I stared at the ceiling.

What a very strange ceiling, I thought.  It had small dots on it, prominent and obvious like tiny little stars.  They must be that, too, I realized.  Not every star ever, but I recognized the shapes of a few constellations.  There was Pisces, the Big Dipper, then Cassiopeia.  More, too, but I didn't know the names of every single one.  I stared at them, curious.

I watched them until I didn't want to look anymore.  Closing my eyes, I pulled my legs up onto the bed, and just lay there, listening to the sound of myself breathing.

I needed to relax and to calm down and to think.

Lucent stood in the small foyer of Elle's apartment, cheek stinging, staring after Elise.  She left him as easily as that, with barely a second glance or a thought.

He wasn't sure what he thought would happen after he brought her here.  In hindsight, if he thought about it more, he should have recognized his folly.  He didn't expect Elle to act like this, though.  Or, more precisely, he'd hoped she wouldn't.

He'd opted for a fool's choice, putting wishes and wants before real actualities.  Yes, perhaps he hadn't been seeing Elle for nearly three years, but he knew how she felt about him.  He tried to ignore it, to pretend that her casual conversations with him via email were nothing more than a brief talk between old friends, but now he understood that couldn't be further from the truth.

In reality, he must have always known the truth.  Three years was a long time, though.  A lot could change.  He never felt serious about his relationship with Elle, either.  She was a means to an end, and that was that.  It bothered him to know he'd thought that way, rationalized a logical reason for rejecting any connection with her, and perhaps he didn't honestly believe she meant nothing to him, but he knew he'd never loved her.

He was dominant, preferring to have mastery over the object of his affections, and Elle was a true submissive.  They suited each other's needs exceptionally well, or that's what he thought back then.  Perhaps he'd changed his mind since then, but perhaps it didn't matter anymore.  Except it did, and he definitely had.

Many people played at BDSM, enjoying their roles for simple reasons.  Domination was enjoyable in a specific way.  It involved absolute control on the part of the dominant person, an extreme knowledge of the situations surrounding him and everything that entailed.  Submission was enjoyable to people in a different way, though.  It involved freedom from thought and worry, with a strict focus on the here and now.  To a submissive, either temporarily or permanently, her master was supposed to be her singular thought.  If she pleased him, she would be given pleasure in return.

That was how it was supposed to work, at least.  The dominant needed to care for the submissive because her only thought was on him.  She was never supposed to think about her own well-being, because he should do that for her.  He'd always done this, and he understood it, but making sure someone was safe was an entirely different objective compared to loving them.

He loved Elise.  He'd always made sure Elle was safe, but he never loved her.

Elle whimpered against the wall, watching Elise leave.  Lucent disliked this game of hers.  Elle liked things rough sometimes, and she enjoyed her punishments.  Unfortunately she'd been one of the more masochistic submissives he'd known.  Also unfortunately, he'd very much enjoyed that side of her.  Not now, though.  Not again.  Not ever.  Not...

"Stop," he told her.  "When I spoke to you on the phone, you didn't act like this.  Why are you doing this now, Elle?"

She stopped whimpering immediately, then moved back to sit in front of him.  Less of a submissive posture now, more playful and contented.  She sat with her knees on the floor, her butt touching the backs of her calves.  She kept her hands on her thighs, but loosely and more relaxed.  It was just a position she favored, he reminded himself.  That's what he wanted to think, but it was fairly obvious she wanted him to punish and subdue her.

He should have realized that before.  Even his loud voice, his severe consternation... she loved it, reveled in it.  She knew he wouldn't spank her or punish her physically, so she'd done this instead.  He didn't know how he could have forgotten about this part of her personality.

"Sorry, Master—"

He stopped her right there.  "No.  Not again.  No more."

She pouted like a child, looking absurd and ridiculous in his eyes.  He remembered how he used to enjoy it, though.

"I thought we could have some fun.  I didn't know you were bringing someone.  I didn't mean anything by it.  It's been so long since I've seen you, Lucent.  I missed you.  You never visit me," she said.

"Elle," he started to say, then stopped.  If he was going to do this, he needed to break old habits.  "Laura, I appreciate the work you do for me.  It's extremely valuable.  I've provided you with appropriate compensation, have I not?  I believe you thoroughly enjoy your apartment?"

"I'd enjoy it more if you came and spanked me sometimes.  I kept our room just like we left it.  I haven't been with anyone else.  I've been waiting.  I knew you'd change your mind eventually.  I just knew it."

"I haven't," he said.  "I won't be changing my mind, either.  That's not our room.  We used it at one time, but that was years ago.  Laura, it's your room now.  Find someone else and use it.  I'll be glad to help you.  I'm sure I can provide you a suitable list of people that can cater to your needs and desires."

"I get worried, though.  I'm not good at saying no, Lucent.  I don't like to say safewords.  You were always so good at it.  You knew exactly when to stop.  Others are too rough, or not rough enough.  It's no good."

Lucent frowned.  She was speaking directly to his ego, and he disliked that.  Egotistical or not, he thought she might have a point, though.

"That doesn't mean you can't find someone," he said.  "You need to get over your concerns.  Most dominants will be understanding of your worries.  Once you play with them for awhile and do a few scenes, they'll do better, too.  It's a give and take situation."