The Parlour (VDB #1) (7 page)

“Pascal, no, please,” Vixon says, or I think it was her. It might be one of the apparent morons still holding me up. I don’t know, because I’m utterly lost. My mind is functioning less and less by the second as he keeps moving at me with cat-like precision. I’ve never known the world to cease to exist around someone before, never understood what that meant, but with him, it does. There is nothing but green eyes, and lips that are slowly curving upwards in my vision. I wish I could stop my face from staring at him through the outside blur. I wish I could stay in control of the muscles that are supposed to be helping me to remain standing, but as I watch that smile increase into some kind of disaster of beauty, I know I’ve got nothing to fight with.

“Name, my dear?” he says softly as he stops in front of me. I stare up at him in fascination and open my mouth to respond. “And do let go of her.” My arms are dropped the instant he commands it, and I crash to the floor in a heap at his feet. Thankfully, I lose eye contact the moment it happens, which appears to allow my brain to function again. It’s probably best not to look at him, isn’t it? That’s what Vixon said, just stay on the floor. That’s clearly what she meant.

“Lilah James.” My voice comes out squeaky, and I’m so amused by the sound of it that I laugh at my own absurdity.

“Lilah James, you are British.” I’m not sure if it’s a statement or a question, so I just nod my head and keep my eyes away from him. Not ready. I’m not ready. I wish something would tell my knickers that because they’re still trying to escape at the tone of his voice. “Lilah, are you to be sold? I may need to test the product?” My eyes snap up to his with no care for the effect. No, I am fucking not. Near whore I may be but I’m certainly not for sale, unless he’s buying me, then I might think twice.

“No, I’m not for sale,” I reply quietly.

“Hmm,” he muses as he looks me over and then offers me his hand. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do. Stand up? Stay down? What? I flick my eyes over to Vixon – or maybe it’s Clarissa – to see her shaking her head and indicating that I should put my head on the floor again. Unfortunately, as I return my gaze to his, all I can see are his ‘come with me’ eyes beckoning, and before I know what I’m doing, my legs are pushing me upwards. My fingers touch his and it’s like someone just lit a flame. A strange kind of feeling that I’ve never felt before is upon me instantly. I snatch my hand away from him in fear of it. It’s debilitating, maybe incapacitating. I don’t know. I just don’t want it controlling me for some reason, because regardless of the fact my knickers seem to want to fall around my ankles, and even though the thought is disconcertingly appealing, there’s just a small part of me that’s saying no. Maybe it’s fear, or maybe it’s the unknown. Maybe it’s just that I can smell hell in his aftershave. Whoever this man is, Vixon is right. He isn’t the man for me. I’m not ready.

“You are quite skittish, my dear. It is a pleasing characteristic to display,” he says as he holds his cane out in the direction of the door. I glance down at the black ebony with its silver top and wonder what that means before looking back up at him. “After you. You are exactly what I require in this moment. We can test you, hmm?”

Test me?

“I’ve told you to get the fuck out of my building, Pascal. Leave, now.” Roxanne comes screeching through the door. Her hair is down and wild as if she’s been physical with something, and she’s encased in a PVC outfit that’s so tight it shows off every curve on her body to full effect. He smiles at me and completely ignores her as she storms towards us. In fact, he takes another step into me and runs his finger over my collar bone. His touch is so soft, so gentle, that my whole body tingles at it, and for the first time, I feel my own lips curving upwards in reply to his. I’m trying not to, really I am. I know I should be scared, or back on the floor again maybe, but I just can’t stop his complete lack of interest at her tirade from making me giggle inside. It’s as if he cares so little for her outburst that he’s not even aware of it. It’s odd, but I can almost hear his brain telling me to just do as he asks and ignore whatever happens next.

She’s suddenly at his back, screaming at him and shouting, but yet again, all I can really see are those green eyes. I’ve heard about this, people who have something about them that you just can’t get away from. I even thought I’d met a few in my time, but now I know I haven’t. My knickers really do want to explode as he smirks at me – a real smirk. He’s not one of those men who pretend to smirk when there’s nothing going on behind the eyes to indicate intelligence. No, this is one of those smirks that delivers all sorts of connotations with it. I can sense his intellect mapping out all kinds of scenarios for me. I can feel it oozing out of his skin and promising me his untold wisdom. It’s probably degenerate and certainly immoral, but that’s not stopping me from smiling back as I watch those eyes dancing with me.

His hand suddenly flies around and grabs her by the throat. I’m so shocked by the move that I stumble back and fall into the morons who are still hovering behind me. He smiles once more at me before turning and pushing her backwards towards the wall. Her legs and arms flail as she fights with his wrist, but I can see the strength of his grip on her, and I can also see his peaceful frame as it glides effortlessly in some sort of death rhythm. He’s wraithlike as he moves, with some kind of unknown power over whatever he touches. He doesn’t even look like he’s trying, or exerting himself in any way. She just has no option, no choice but to do as he says, no matter how hard she fights him.

“You forget yourself, Lucinda,” he says calmly as he holds her against the wall and licks up the side of her face. “Do you need another reminder, hmm? I thought we had dealt with this order of control.”

She doesn’t say anything in reply, and I’m not surprised because I can see the colour rushing to her cheeks as she struggles for air. I’m frozen in place, just watching whatever this is unfolding in front of me. I should stop it. This is bullying, I’m sure of it, but something about this whole scenario seems allowable, necessary even. Maybe this is a game, or an ongoing argument. She doesn’t look scared, well, perhaps a little, but it’s more like this is something she’s done with him plenty of times before. He brings his face close to hers and watches her reactions carefully, inspects them for more information than she’s actually showing with her movements as she continues to struggle.

“Your scent becomes less palatable with each passing day,” he says, extending his arm and backing away from her as he lets go. She grabs at her throat and very nearly collapses to the floor beneath his feet. Her arms scrabble her back up it before she actually hits the deck, until she’s glaring at him again.

“Get out,” she spits, still rubbing her neck. He smirks, and quick as a flash, he has his cane at her chin, tipping it upwards and away from his gaze.

“I am taking your new toy with me.”

What new toy?

“No, she’s–”

“Mine to do with as I see fit, hmm? We have discussed who owns what, have we not? That belongs to me,” he says as he waves a hand in my direction. My eyes widen as I realise he’s talking about me. Do I hell belong to him.

“I don’t think I fucking well do.” I’m sure that shouldn’t have actually left my lips. I’m so confused as to what the hell is going on, but I’m damn sure I don’t belong to anyone. If there’s the slightest possibility I do, it’s to Roxanne. She’s the one who rescued me after all, and I do owe her some amount of thanks. He slowly turns and looks back at me, and there isn’t the slightest hint of amusement or pleasantry in his eyes. They’re hard, focused, utterly deviant, and inexcusably vicious as they sparkle with undisclosed irritation.

“Your toy is untrained I see, an appealing prospect,” he snaps, still looking at me without the slightest hint of turning away. I can feel my body trembling a little as I try to hold his stare and defend myself. I can feel the need to flick my eyes away from him coursing through me, telling me to give in, give up, to not be stupid and put myself in harm’s way. But there’s part of me that simply can’t move because I’m somehow held here by his emerald watch. Maybe he’s a wizard, or a warlock is possibly a more correct assumption.

“She’s not ready, Pascal,” Roxanne says quietly, and then she grunts at something. It’s enough for me to turn and see what. He’s pushing the end of his cane into her face, squashing it into the wall and obviously causing her pain.

“Stop, please,” I say, taking a quick step forward to protect her with my arms stretching out to him. I’ve no clue what I’m going to do but I can’t watch her squealing and hurting. “Please, don’t hurt her. I’ll go if–” He smirks at me and scans over my body.

“Your toy is also sweet natured, how deathly tedious. Does it know nothing yet?” There’s another grunt of pain followed by a gurgling sound as he sneers a little and then licks his very attractive lips. I doubt I should be thinking about his lips, or his still perfectly pressed suit and matching tie. “Lift your dress,” he says to me. My eyes widen, and that’s really not helping me to not look at his lips. I really wish I didn’t want to. I’m not even sure if my knickers are still in one piece.

“I...”

“Now,” he snaps. I hear Roxanne grunting again and hope that me lifting my dress will stop her distress because no one else is doing a fucking thing to help. The two morons are still doing nothing, and Vixon is just kneeling on the floor, looking at it as if transfixed.

“Let her go and I will.” His brow rises slowly.

“You believe this a negotiation, my dear? I negotiate with only two people, and you are neither of them. Lift your dress, or I shall do it for you.” Oh. The sudden flash of mirth that graces his face is disconcerting to say the least, and leaves me with no doubt that if I don’t do as he asks, he will, indeed, do it for me. I gently pick up the bottom of my dress and hope for the best as I gingerly pull it upwards across my thighs. It’s only my legs after all, and my crotch, which is hopefully still covered by my knickers. And if he lets Roxanne go because of it then I’ve done what I need to, haven’t I?

There’s a small twitch of his mouth as I keep staring at him and pull it up to my waist. Thank God I’ve got heels on. That should go some way to lengthening my too short legs. Although why I’m so bothered about what he thinks of my figure, I don’t know. He doesn’t even look, doesn’t acknowledge my crotch in the slightest, just continues to laugh at me with his ever present eyes and licks his lips again.

“Divine,” he says, and with a dramatic flinging of his hands, he removes the cane from Roxanne and walks across to me. “Would you like some schooling?”

I shake my head instantly in reply. I am very much aware that I’m not ready for his type of teaching, regardless of what my knickers may have to say about it.

“Mmm, I think you would, my dear. I believe your squirming is imperative to save my sanity. Would you like to save my sanity, hmm? Help me? I am much distressed.”

“I don’t think–”

“Mmm, yes, do not do that. It is quite unwise to contradict that which one’s body craves. You are wet, are you not?”
Clearly.

“Vixon said I wasn’t ready,” I mumble.

“You are not. This fact makes you all the more mouth-watering.”

“I’ve got to...” Change? Run? Get home to England where there’s a modicum of normality.

“Got to what, my dear? Hmm? Suck my cock while you kneel for me? Let me defile you with varying objects to hand? Bend over so I can come on your back? Pray, do tell?” Oh dear God, who talks like that so openly? And why am I panting?

“I’m not sure if... I’ve not done any of this before, and...” The thought is both worrying and extraordinarily tempting. He is undoubtedly the most beautiful man I have ever seen. I can’t stop my body reacting to him, or my mind. It’s as if every bone, tissue and muscle in my body is screaming for him.

“Lessons then. I am more than willing to oblige.”

“But Roxanne said I work for her.”

“And therefore me.”

“Oh.”

“I enjoy this English ‘Oh’ you both use. It forms a delicious shape to your lips.” Both? I’m the only Brit here as far as I can see. Oh, Vixon? Who’s he talking about now?

“Pascal, let her stay here. Take one of the other girls. She’s clearly not ready for you, and–”

“Do desist with your constant whining, Lucinda. I am quite bored with it.”

“You’re her boss?”

“Boss is one way of distinguishing my position over her.”

“Well, I guess I have to then.”

“Wonderful, come,” he says as he spins on his heel and casually wanders towards the door. He doesn’t wait for me to follow, doesn’t even look back at me. I suppose I’m just expected to go with him. Roxanne is in my face before I get a chance to move, pushing my dress back down and straightening it out.

“I’m sorry, Lilah. I didn’t know he was in town. I would have kept you locked up had I known,” she says, stepping away from me again and glancing over me. “You look lovely. Now, I’ll give you some advice. You do everything he says, without hesitation or sarcasm. If he says sit, you sit. If he says piss yourself, you do it. Do you understand, Lilah? If you do that, you’ll be fine. You smile, you let him touch you where he wants to, and the moment you can, you ask him to let you have a safeword. He might just listen to it if you please him enough.”

“You mean a word to get me out of something if I don’t like it?”

“Yes.”

“You’re gonna be okay, lovey. Just do like Rox says and you’ll do great,” Vixon says as she joins us from the other side of the room, faffing about with my coat and acting like she does not really think I’m gong to be okay at all.

“But you said I wasn’t–”

“Ready. Yes, you’re not, but it appears he’s taken a fancy, and there’s nothing any of us can do about that unfortunately. You’re gonna go to a place called Eden, and he’s gonna do his version of seducing you. Just enjoy it. I don’t know many that haven’t. He only gets overly rowdy when something pisses him off, or he’s gone too long without stimulation, which is something Pascal never really does.”

“Will I come back here after?”

“Yes, he’ll send you back when he’s done with you,” Roxanne says as she walks us over to the door and opens it, pushing me out. “And, Lilah?”

“Yes,” I reply nervously, glancing at the car waiting at the side of the road with its door open for me and then back to her.

“Remember everything. He’s probably the most highly decorated Dominant this world of ours has, and if you can please him, the others will be easy. You’ll be an over qualified sub within two days. They’ll pay a fortune for you.”

I’m not sure whether to be proud of that or not, so I take a last look back at her and nod my head with a small smile. Vixon stands beside her with a full beam on her face as if she’s trying to comfort me. It’s not working. I’m suddenly scared shitless.

I turn towards the waiting door and then look at the street. I could run, couldn’t I? Both Roxanne and Vixon have told me that. In fact, they’ve both told me to go on a few occasions if I wasn’t comfortable with what was happening. And I’m so not comfortable with what is currently going on now. I don’t know this man for shit, and I’ve just witnessed his version of irritated. It doesn’t bode well for what he’s going to be with me, the woman who knows nothing of this world. My feet itch for freedom with no thought to the consequences. I should just go, finish this and find a new life somehow. Beg, borrow, steal even. I’ve done it before, I could do it again, couldn’t I?

“Lilah James, what turns you on the most, hmm? What is your fetish?” his voice says from inside the dark car as a hand appears, dangling a flute of champagne from slender fingers. Champagne, really? Are we celebrating something? Only my possible demise from an expert torture deliverer, I’m sure.

“Intelligence,” I reply as I watch the snow floating down around me and wonder where the hell I could find a bed for the night. He chuckles inside and waggles the champagne at me again.

“Please do not make me come out there for you. I have had quite enough of chasing English women down for one lifetime.”

I’ve got nowhere to go, have I? Nobody is waiting for me, or coming to rescue me. There isn’t a superhero about to swoop down and take me to his lair for safety. There’s only a man in a car who wants to come on my back. Or use varying implements on me. In me. How bad can it be? Apparently he’s the best. At least I’ll know what to expect after him. At least I’ll be able to make money quicker and get the hell out of Oddville. I take my first step forward and feel the heat coming from inside the car. It’s indicative of the elevated temperature emanating from my knickers and the very thought of the most beautiful man in the world touching me again.