You were well-behaved while we were out, though I expected no less from you. I’ve seen you interact in public before and other than the first time you nearly slapped your uninvited guest, you’ve always exuded professionalism. But it’s behind closed doors and in the shadows where you really shine. That’s where you let your true self out.
My, God, those tears… I almost wish you hadn’t given me what I asked for. Almost . But you did and they were nothing less than spectacular. And real. What I wouldn’t give to know what you were feeling that made them flow so flawlessly – what memory you recalled to satiate my sick hunger for them. It wasn’t I who caused them this time - no pain or punishment handed out, no harsh or cruel words to make it happen, yet they came effortlessly.
My feelings are mixed. An emotion I haven’t felt since the Chapter I do not speak of made its way into my psyche – hope. But hope for what? I am not young and easily manipulated anymore. Hope is for fools and I am no fool, nor will I be made into one by the mere presence of your fucking tears. I enjoy the torment I cause too much for that to happen. Not always, but often enough to know that I crave absolute power in a way that defines who I am.
Yet tonight... when you gave them freely it was a different kind of control I experienced. I have dominated my partners before, Peach, let me be clear about that, but your submission tonight was… I’m still unable to find the words to describe it. Those God damned tears have clouded my thoughts.
I must focus harder than I’ve had to before when I’m with you. My game plan is still to test your limits to make you into someone stronger. Your heart-felt willingness will not deter me and neither will your soul crushing tears.
My usual methods of breaking a subject are proving of no value with you and for that reason I must now adopt a different stance in order achieve my goal. I must push you harder until you break. But I will break you with words and use actions only when necessary. It only seems appropriate, no? Sweet words for a juicy, sweet peach.
***
Elsa woke to the sun shining through the bedroom window and the heat of Mr. Black’s body enveloping her. He had stayed the night and slept next to her. Just thinking about it made her heart swell with familiar, but unwanted emotions.
With sleep still in her eyes, Mr. Black rolled over and gathered her in his arms. No words were spoken as he leaned down onto her and eased his morning wood between her legs. Elsa loved morning sex. She could think of no better way to begin her day than with Mr. Black inside of her and staring down at her as he fucked her slowly. This was the real man behind the designation of Mr. Black: the unpretentious and peaceful Victor Laurenzo. Their limbs twisted and intertwined under the sheets and she arched her back, letting out a satisfied sigh as he pushed deep inside of her.
“Mr. Black,” she moaned.
He whispered into her half-open mouth, “Call me by my real name.”
The new light of day had barely touched her eyes and she was already grinning. “Victor.”
If only it could be this good every moment with him.
In the post morning bliss, Victor fell back to sleep, giving Elsa the opportunity to study him more closely. Propping herself up on one elbow, she burned into her memory all of his facial features: the dark stubble covering his face, the small mole on his right cheek, his thick eyebrows and long lashes, and all the other little nuances that were unique only to him. She leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth, unable to resist his firm, red lips that were only centimeters away. He stirred and his mouth twitched in response.
She touched a long, deep scar that stretched from the underside of his chin to his jawbone and was camouflaged by his unshaven face. She ran the tip of her index finger along the angular shape of it. When she did, his eyes fluttered open and came into focus, the sun glinting off his green irises.
Paying no mind to him, she continued on her quest to learn him, her eyes roaming endlessly over his handsome face.
“You’re wasting your time,” Victor said softly.
She knitted her brows together, unsure what he was referring to.
“Trying to figure me out,” he explained. “I can’t be easily labeled like all the rest of your lovers.”
None of Elsa’s lovers were easily classified and she shook her head to his egotistical response. “You’re an egomaniac.” The corners of his mouth lifted in a discreet smile. “And your opinion is subjective,” she continued, causing his smile to show itself fully. “I like this man,” she dared to confess.
“And which man would that be?” Victor pulled his head back to scan her face.
“Victor Laurenzo.”
He quirked a brow at her, “As opposed to Mr. Black?”
“Yes. Mr. Black is erratic and capricious.”
He rolled onto his back and grabbed his stomach as he belted out a loud laugh. “I’ll let him know you feel that way,” he said in between laughs.
She widened her eyes exaggeratedly and shook her head. “I’d rather you didn’t. He might not take kindly to my criticism.”
Rolling onto his side, he pushed her hair away from her eyes. “No, he might not, so it’ll be our little secret.”
She couldn’t help but feel like their kidding wasn’t entirely lighthearted. Mr. Black wasn’t a man to be fucked with and yet, he was the same person as Victor Laurenzo. Or was he? Was his personality split real or imagined? She didn’t know him well enough to have that much figured out and she was too terrified of what might happen if she asked.
Victor rose from the bed and grabbed her hand, dragging her into the shower with him. They washed each other and it was as if Mr. Black no longer existed. But she knew better. She could see him hiding behind Victor’s captivating eyes and hypnotic smile. Yes, he was there, waiting until the moment she fucked up so he could dole out his punishment.
As Victor began to finger her, she closed her eyes, trying to ignore the caution signs that were popping up in her subconscious.
Lowering himself onto his knees, she propped a foot onto his shoulder as he buried his face in her pussy. She grazed her nails against his scalp and he groaned, making her knees go weak. He looked up at her as his tongue made lazy circles around her clit. She wiped her eyes to get a better view and when their eyes met, they shared an intense physical awareness of each other. God, she hoped this moment of passion was real and not part of his game.
She threw her head back as her climax began to wash over her.
She reminded herself that Mr. Black was ever present and asked, “May I come?”
Victor’s brows drew together as if confused and Elsa inwardly smiled. She truly loved the look of surprise on his face when she did something he wasn’t expecting.
*
Sunday afternoon blew by like a summer breeze, warm and friendly. Victor remained attentive and kind, always watching her and in some way, touching her. They cooked lunch side by side with what little bit of food was in the house, and worked together in unison as if they had been doing it for years.
Seated at the bistro table, they ate in silence as Victor read something. She assumed it was work related, but never asked. The key around his neck was teasing her and his briefcase that sat nearby was taunting her. She could see the edge of his journal peeking out, setting her nerves on edge. She wanted to read what else he had written about her. If he would just excuse himself to the restroom… or leave to have a cigarette… or…
“What’s going on that head of yours, Elsa?”
His voice interrupted her thoughts. She shrugged, embarrassed at herself for obsessing over his damned diary.
“Does my little Peach want a fuck?” he winked.