Page 60
Story: Empire of Ache & Ruin
“Right. His heart.” I run a hand through my hair as I step toward her. She backs away, putting the kitchen island between us. As if that could stop me from taking her if that’s what I wanted. “Don’t worry. He’s fine. Gambling once again in the city since his credit has been restored.”
“You’re lying.” She shakes her head.
“Believe as you wish.” I hesitate but then opt for the truth. “He’s living in the city because he lost the mansion.”
“What?” She gasps, placing a hand over her mouth. “But you paid to save him. How did he lose our home?”
“I don’t know.” I lie.
I gave him enough money to cover his debt with the mob and his campaign, but I made sure the house was fast tracked through foreclosure for tax evasion. Even if he had money to pay, I would not have sold it back to him.
“That’s impossible.” Tears brim her eyes. Seems every time I get near her, I find a way to make her cry. She wipes her cheek. “How can he owe money on it? It’s our home. That house has been in our family for generations. My great-grandparents built that house. All that artwork, it was curated by them.”
I know for a fact that’s a lie. My father was the one who lived in a house he inherited from his parents. My great-grandparents built this mansion. The Senator acquired a property in Bedford only after he killed Dad, and Mom and I had to go into hiding. The asshole not only took Dad’s money, but also his life’s backstory.
“The government doesn’t like it when you don’t pay your property taxes. The home was foreclosed last week.” I step toward her, longing to hold her in my arms and make her see that the Senator doesn’t deserve her tears. In the end, I simply say, “I’m sorry.” Then leave before I do something really stupid like kiss her again.
I rush upstairs to the third floor then slam the door to my suite. What did I think was going to happen when I told her my plans for revenge were going swimmingly? She doesn’t care what the Senator has done. She only cares about his suffering, not mine.
Still fuming, I kick off my running shoes and head for the shower. I still have a lot of work to do before Fisher leaves for London tonight.
I run the hot water and step under it, relaxing against the slight burn of the spray on my back. Her golden eyes immediately invade my mind. Once her essence surrounds me, there’s only one way forward. With a deep inhale, I reach down, grip my erection and pump a few times.
“Hmmm.” I let my favorite memory of her play on repeat. She’s in my hotel suite, looking up at me with pure lust in her beautiful eyes. “Fuck.” I bring my hand from the base up to the shaft.
And then, I lose myself in all the fantasies I’ve ever had of her. The taste of her pussy on my tongue, her thighs straddling me hard, her leaps and turns on stage while dressed as the black swan. I run my thumb over the tip of my cock and wipe the pre-cum off. I imagine her licking my fingers clean before taking my length into her pretty mouth.
“That’s right, Little Dove.” I squeeze my eyes shut.
The muscles on my back tense. I’m so close. But I slow down, refusing to let go of her just yet. I want her sucking me off like I’m the last man on earth. My breath puffs out in a ragged rhythm as I picture her velvet tongue around my shaft, begging for more.
It’s pathetic that I’ve resorted to these measures when the object of my desire is just one floor below me. But this is who I’ve become since Paloma waltzed into my life. I’ve become a desperate man, backed into a corner because I can’t free myself from my two obsessions. I want to let her go, but I can’t.
I can’t let her go. Just like I can’t stop what’s coming for her father.
“Yes.” Her small moans echo in the shower room.
I pump hard once, twice, my hand in tandem with my breathing, while I let the image of her take me the rest of the way. “Fuck.” I grit my teeth as I find my release. I come harder than other nights as my desire for her rushes like fire through my veins. My abs flex and tighten as my seed paints the bathroom tile with the angry ribbons shooting from my cock.
If she can have this effect on me when she’s not here, I don’t want to imagine what will happen if I ever drop my guard around her. God help me if I ever lose the battle with myself and surrender to my swan queen.
CHAPTER15
YOU’LL THINK OF ME, LITTLE DOVE
Paloma
I pick up one pillow, and then the other, tossing them both to the foot of the bed. My crystal swan is gone. The last time I saw, it was right here. I climb on the mattress and peek behind it. Did Gardenia take it just to mess with me one last time before she left? Well, now it’s too late to ask. Archer’s family left a few moments ago.
A shiver runs down my spine at the thought of being all alone with Archer. I gave up asking if I can see Dad. By now, I know he one hundred percent meant it when he said he doesn’t want to share me with the world. Early this afternoon, when I crossed the foyer to get to the kitchen, I waved hello to one of the construction workers working on the second floor of the east wing. Archer completely lost it. So what if I smiled at a stranger? It’s not a sin. He didn’t have to fire that guy over it, and then, yell at me about how he already told me that part of that house is off-limits to me. A forbidden wing—it makes no sense at all, but I can’t worry about that right now. I need to find my crystal swan.
I plop myself on the bed and try to remember if maybe I moved it somewhere else. But there’s no way I put it away and then forgot. The swan has become my home. For some reason when I hold it, I think of Archer. Sometimes when the firelight hits it just right, a few of the facets shine blue just like his eyes.
Hitting the bed with my fist, I jump to my feet, determined to find it. I head out to look for Mary Jane. Maybe she dropped it when she was making the bed and it broke. If that’s the case, it can be fixed. I just want it back. It’s mine. It’s the only thing in this whole house that is truly mine.
When I reach the foyer, I spot Mary Jane leaving the study. “Hi.” I wave at her.
She beams at me, probably because most days I never leave my room. Though every day she begs me to go out and get some fresh air. I want to, and one of these days I will, but right now I need to find the crystal.
“You’re lying.” She shakes her head.
“Believe as you wish.” I hesitate but then opt for the truth. “He’s living in the city because he lost the mansion.”
“What?” She gasps, placing a hand over her mouth. “But you paid to save him. How did he lose our home?”
“I don’t know.” I lie.
I gave him enough money to cover his debt with the mob and his campaign, but I made sure the house was fast tracked through foreclosure for tax evasion. Even if he had money to pay, I would not have sold it back to him.
“That’s impossible.” Tears brim her eyes. Seems every time I get near her, I find a way to make her cry. She wipes her cheek. “How can he owe money on it? It’s our home. That house has been in our family for generations. My great-grandparents built that house. All that artwork, it was curated by them.”
I know for a fact that’s a lie. My father was the one who lived in a house he inherited from his parents. My great-grandparents built this mansion. The Senator acquired a property in Bedford only after he killed Dad, and Mom and I had to go into hiding. The asshole not only took Dad’s money, but also his life’s backstory.
“The government doesn’t like it when you don’t pay your property taxes. The home was foreclosed last week.” I step toward her, longing to hold her in my arms and make her see that the Senator doesn’t deserve her tears. In the end, I simply say, “I’m sorry.” Then leave before I do something really stupid like kiss her again.
I rush upstairs to the third floor then slam the door to my suite. What did I think was going to happen when I told her my plans for revenge were going swimmingly? She doesn’t care what the Senator has done. She only cares about his suffering, not mine.
Still fuming, I kick off my running shoes and head for the shower. I still have a lot of work to do before Fisher leaves for London tonight.
I run the hot water and step under it, relaxing against the slight burn of the spray on my back. Her golden eyes immediately invade my mind. Once her essence surrounds me, there’s only one way forward. With a deep inhale, I reach down, grip my erection and pump a few times.
“Hmmm.” I let my favorite memory of her play on repeat. She’s in my hotel suite, looking up at me with pure lust in her beautiful eyes. “Fuck.” I bring my hand from the base up to the shaft.
And then, I lose myself in all the fantasies I’ve ever had of her. The taste of her pussy on my tongue, her thighs straddling me hard, her leaps and turns on stage while dressed as the black swan. I run my thumb over the tip of my cock and wipe the pre-cum off. I imagine her licking my fingers clean before taking my length into her pretty mouth.
“That’s right, Little Dove.” I squeeze my eyes shut.
The muscles on my back tense. I’m so close. But I slow down, refusing to let go of her just yet. I want her sucking me off like I’m the last man on earth. My breath puffs out in a ragged rhythm as I picture her velvet tongue around my shaft, begging for more.
It’s pathetic that I’ve resorted to these measures when the object of my desire is just one floor below me. But this is who I’ve become since Paloma waltzed into my life. I’ve become a desperate man, backed into a corner because I can’t free myself from my two obsessions. I want to let her go, but I can’t.
I can’t let her go. Just like I can’t stop what’s coming for her father.
“Yes.” Her small moans echo in the shower room.
I pump hard once, twice, my hand in tandem with my breathing, while I let the image of her take me the rest of the way. “Fuck.” I grit my teeth as I find my release. I come harder than other nights as my desire for her rushes like fire through my veins. My abs flex and tighten as my seed paints the bathroom tile with the angry ribbons shooting from my cock.
If she can have this effect on me when she’s not here, I don’t want to imagine what will happen if I ever drop my guard around her. God help me if I ever lose the battle with myself and surrender to my swan queen.
CHAPTER15
YOU’LL THINK OF ME, LITTLE DOVE
Paloma
I pick up one pillow, and then the other, tossing them both to the foot of the bed. My crystal swan is gone. The last time I saw, it was right here. I climb on the mattress and peek behind it. Did Gardenia take it just to mess with me one last time before she left? Well, now it’s too late to ask. Archer’s family left a few moments ago.
A shiver runs down my spine at the thought of being all alone with Archer. I gave up asking if I can see Dad. By now, I know he one hundred percent meant it when he said he doesn’t want to share me with the world. Early this afternoon, when I crossed the foyer to get to the kitchen, I waved hello to one of the construction workers working on the second floor of the east wing. Archer completely lost it. So what if I smiled at a stranger? It’s not a sin. He didn’t have to fire that guy over it, and then, yell at me about how he already told me that part of that house is off-limits to me. A forbidden wing—it makes no sense at all, but I can’t worry about that right now. I need to find my crystal swan.
I plop myself on the bed and try to remember if maybe I moved it somewhere else. But there’s no way I put it away and then forgot. The swan has become my home. For some reason when I hold it, I think of Archer. Sometimes when the firelight hits it just right, a few of the facets shine blue just like his eyes.
Hitting the bed with my fist, I jump to my feet, determined to find it. I head out to look for Mary Jane. Maybe she dropped it when she was making the bed and it broke. If that’s the case, it can be fixed. I just want it back. It’s mine. It’s the only thing in this whole house that is truly mine.
When I reach the foyer, I spot Mary Jane leaving the study. “Hi.” I wave at her.
She beams at me, probably because most days I never leave my room. Though every day she begs me to go out and get some fresh air. I want to, and one of these days I will, but right now I need to find the crystal.
Table of Contents
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