Continental Beginnings (6 page)

“Eyes back on your papers, ladies,” I state strictly.

They comply and finish their tests quickly. Tonight’s final lecture will address and recap the most important things we discussed this session. It’s nice to see the change in the apprentices as they’ve grown throughout the quarter long class.

As I talk about how important honesty, respect, obedience, safety and health are, I’m struck with how my bond with Bella mimics that of a domestic discipline relationship. Except for the honesty part, which is, of course, the most vital and important part. I still have conflicted feelings for her. There’s no doubt that I care deeply for her beyond our work relationship, yet I’m still unable to communicate those feelings to her, even after our special time in Italy.

In the beginning, I could see her need for wanting more from me, but as the months and now years have gone by, that need has turned into something else – acceptance; acceptance of what our relationship is and what it will never be. For me, I have accepted the gift of her submission and compliance and perhaps even begun to take advantage of it. She doesn’t ask for more and I’m grateful for it.

When class ends, I send my soon to be graduates on their way and wish them the best of luck in their relationships.

On my way home, I call Bella to check up on her. She answers sleepily and I recall what she looked like spread out on my bed and snuggled up under a down comforter. I’m sure she looks nothing less than spectacular right now. We speak of work as usual and I reveal nothing, but just hearing her voice puts my mind at ease.

Pulling into my parking garage, I’m met by Svetlana who is sitting in her fire-engine red Jaguar.
How the fuck did she get in here?
She must still have my parking code, damn it. I make a mental note to have it changed immediately.

“Xander, darling…” she gushes as she climbs out. She’s wearing a long gray overcoat and platform heels that match the color of her car. “I was in the mood for a little playtime,” she continues.

“I really don’t have time for your games, Svetlana,” I counter, pushing past her.

“Don’t be so cold, darling. What I have in mind won’t take long.”

She never could take a hint. She throws herself in front of the elevator door dramatically and flings her coat open to reveal her scantily clad body only wearing lace top stockings, a bustier and a thong.

“Take me, Xander. I need to feel your touch. I’ve missed it so much. No one knows my body the way you do. Why haven’t you returned my calls?” she laments, her voice grating on my nerves.

“You know I’m a busy man,” I respond, clipped.

Suddenly she looks offended. “Busy with whom? That secretary of yours?” she hisses.

“She’s not my secretary, she’s my personal assistant,” I grumble, trying to side-step her.

“What sorts of things does she
assist
you with?” she asks sarcastically. “You can’t seem to keep your hands off of her every time I see the two of you together. Exactly what kind of work relationship do you have with her? Does she suck cock as good as me?” she flirts, sliding up next to me.

Pausing in front of her, I clench my jaw, narrow my eyes at her and respond, “That’s none of your fucking business.”

This over-persistent woman is seriously pissing me off.  With my irritation clearly evident, she becomes contrite.

“What do I have to do to get your attention, Xander?” she states cloyingly sweet, her hands climbing up my chest and her nails digging into my skin.

I grab her hands firmly and move inches from her face.

“Nothing at all, Svetlana. You
had
my attention, but you decided that my attention wasn’t enough for you, remember?” I growl, reminding her about our not so amicable break up after I found her sucking a now ex-coworker’s dick in the bathroom stall of a club.

“He didn’t mean anything to me,” she leans in trying to kiss me.

I drop her hands and step out of her reach.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

I dealt with this damn near two years ago and I’m not rehashing this bullshit again. I swore then that Svetlana would be the last woman to hurt me. She was a rebound relationship from my short-lived marriage and as if it wasn’t enough that my marriage was a sham, Svetlana had to go and remind me that getting emotionally involved with someone would only lead to heartbreak and unwanted drama. Twice in a row I declared my feelings for a woman only to have my heart shit on.
Never again.

“Goodnight,” I state resolutely, taking the stairs to get away from her.

Chapter 9

Still feeling the maddening effects of Svetlana’s visit the next day, I find myself sulking at work and becoming more and more incensed with myself and my feelings for Ms. Darcy. Bella picks up on my indifference and tension and tries to remedy it, but her compassion only further agitates me.

Why the hell does she have to be so damned thoughtful? It would make life easier if I didn’t have these fucking feelings for her and she wasn’t so fucking perfect. Surely she’s not perfect. There must be something she’s lacking.

I suddenly feel the need to call her into my office to reiterate my rules.

“Ms. Darcy, I want you in my office in 30 seconds,” I bark over the intercom.

She comes in quickly, her eyebrows furrowed as if concerned for me.
Fuck that. I don’t need her concern.

“When was the last time you read my expectations of you?” I ask.

Her eyes widen and her mouth parts in surprise. 

“Did I do something wrong?” she whispers hesitantly.

“Did I say that?”

“Well… no, Sir. Am I not meeting your expectations?”

No, she’s not; she’s
exceeding
them. “Just answer the question, Ms. Darcy.”

She looks down at the floor momentarily, but then looks me in the eyes, her eyebrows going up. “I honestly can’t remember when I last read them,” she says lightheartedly as she shrugs her shoulders.

“Are you not taking me seriously?” I ask harshly as I stand and slam my hand onto my desk loudly.

“Of course, I am,” she says, startled.

“Then why haven’t you re-read them? You should never become complacent in your job duties and one should always familiarize them self with the rules and regulations of any establishment by reading and rereading them so that…”

“I understand that,” she cuts in.

“Then why haven’t you reread them recently?” I snap.

“Because they’re committed to memory, Mr. Pettifor,” she answers back calmly, her eyes moving over my body as if trying to figure me out.

I huff in disbelief.

“Would you like me to prove it?” she asks defensively.

Moving directly in front of her, I wave my hand and bow my head sarcastically. “Fine. Prove it, Ms. Darcy,” I challenge her. We’ll see just how
perfect
she really is.

She clears her throat, pushes her shoulders back and begins.

“1. I, Bella Darcy, acknowledge that I alone am responsible and liable for my actions. Additionally, I understand that if I fail to follow the rules as set forth by Mr. Pettifor and my attitude and actions are not in compliance with Mr. Pettifor’s wishes, consequences must be faced.

2. I, Bella Darcy, understand that as the head of his household, Mr. Pettifor has the final say in all decisions ultimately made by him; the household being defined as Pettifor Industries and Acquisitions.”

I’m shocked into complete silence as she continues stating my rules and expectations verbatim and I have no choice but to shut the hell up.

“3. I, Bella Darcy, am aware that I have the right to politely and respectfully express and state my opinion at any point, but agree to the final decisions made by Mr. Pettifor.

4. I, Bella Darcy, will never second guess or attempt to hinder or interrupt the corrective process as set forth by Mr. Pettifor by arguing the justification for my actions and I will accept whatever discipline is decided upon by Mr. Pettifor nothing less than graciously.

5. I, Bella…”

I can’t listen to anymore. Feeling like a jackass for even making her stand before me as if I don’t trust her, I command her to stop.

“Enough, Ms. Darcy” I reply, unable to look into her devoted blue eyes.

Without thinking, I reach out and tuck a stray strand of her hair behind her ear and she nuzzles her head into my hand, her lips turning up in a proud smile. Realizing my inadvertent action, I swiftly pull my hand away, not wanting to lead her on any further. I move quickly to sit back down and distance myself from her.

Why do I continue to fight the emotions that Bella stirs in me? We’ve just had our two year anniversary and still, I remain unemotional and frigid towards her. I’ve lived my life like this for so long, I’m not even sure I know how to be like I was before. I’ve tried to give into my longing and urges for her and to tell her how I really feel, but I’m not able to.

Never has Bella ever questioned me about my past either or about why I am the way I am and I’ve begun to wonder,
does she even care
?
Does she even need me?
How can she accept these walls that I’ve built around myself? I know the answer deep down; she’s accepted them because I’ve given her no other choice.

Yes, we have both come to accept our
arrangement
and neither of us has asked for
more,
but someday our time will come to an end; it’s inevitable. I dread and fear our conclusion on a daily basis. What will I do when Bella says
no more
and my world comes to an end?

She’s so much stronger than she used to be. She’s poised and professional, and playful when appropriate. But always, she follows the rules and never questions my authority. Only occasionally have we disagreed or butted heads and her feistiness and temper only shows on the rarest of occasions. Like when Svetlana started sniffing around. I could’ve sworn I saw jealousy in her eyes on Svetlana’s last visit. I never want to give Bella reason to doubt my loyalty to her.

“You’re excused,” I tell her coldly not wanting to think about this thing, or non-thing, between us anymore.

I’m sitting silently over thinking things as usual and sorting through papers on my desk trying to avoid her gaze when she moves next to me, spins my chair around and kneels in between my legs.

“What can I do to make you feel better, Sir?” she asks.

Her fiery, gem-blue gaze is burning into me and reminding me that her submissive way has ruined me utterly and totally for all other women, and that I yearn for no other except my beautiful princess.

And so once again, our well-rehearsed dance begins. I tell the business world to screw off and the next two hours are spent making love to our heart’s content as I fuck her in every possible position I can manipulate her body into. Just like clay, I’m able to sculpt her into the perfect instrument for my pleasure. I utilize every square inch of my office to fuck her: On the desk, over the desk, under the desk, on the floor, on the chaise lounge, up against the large windows and on the private bathroom counter.

Her body was made to be taken like this. She was meant to be possessed and obsessed over. She was destined to be trained like the good little subservient mistress that she was born to be.  

I punish and worship her pussy relentlessly, pounding into her and driving home the message that she belongs to me and only me. I spank her ass because I can and because I want to make it undeniably clear that I’ll accept nothing less than her absolute commitment and acquiescence, and she responds exactly as she should - by thanking me. 

So help me God if I find out she belongs to someone else, I swear I’ll kill him. I’ll tear his motherfucking throat out like a feral animal protecting its own, because that’s what Bella is –
mine.
I can’t and won’t be without this woman.  Fuck the rules; to hell with the consequences.  She owns me completely.

I’ve fallen for this woman
–
totally, completely, entirely.

Epilogue

Bella’s gone. I let her slip right through my fingers without so much as a fight. She professed her love for me and I did the exact thing that’s been done to me – I rebuffed her. God – those eyes and the way she was looking at me when she said it…
Why didn’t I respond?

I knew she had been struggling with her decision to quit and still, I sat by and allowed it. It was because of Svetlana –
of course it was.
I knew the instant I came out of my office that dreadful day Svetlana forced herself on me and made me watch her orgasm by the look of betrayal that shown vividly in Bella’s eyes. Why didn’t I explain things then? Because of my obstinacy and arrogance in thinking that I was above explaining myself to anyone. How wrong I was.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Have I been so damaged by infidelity and lies that I can never love again?

I brood in my office the remainder of the day and evening, unable to even rise from my chair because of my despair. I scream at myself in silence for hours on end at my own pigheadedness. Ms. Davidson does her best to try and console me but there’s nothing she or anyone else can do or say to make this pain go away. Bella’s really gone. I knew it was unavoidable.

“Yes, now you do see why exactly it is that I must quit. Farewell, Xander, I’ll miss everything about you.”

Her words cut me to the bone and sear a path through my heart, scarring it forever. She’s really fucking gone and because I’m so damned unyielding and afraid of the unknown, I’m incapable of doing anything about it.

***

Four weeks without Bella.
What day is it?
It makes no difference; they all blend together. I keep waiting for her to call to say she’s made the biggest mistake of her life by leaving me, but still…
nothing.
Not one single word, text, email or phone call. She’s moved out of her apartment and started a new life without me.
Without me.

Did she ever really care for me? Yes, she told me so. How could I not see how she really felt? Was I so engrossed with my own wants and needs that I was blinded by selfishness to the love that was staring me right in the eyes?