A Love Too Dark (05)
The Marquis Vincent de Gramont x Reader
Chapter 05: Dark And Primal
WARNING: THIS IS A DARK FIC.
This story will contain 18+ mature themes, blackmail, forced kissing, dark romance, toxic behaviour, blood, violence, stalking, manipulation, a lot of smut, dubious consent, non-consensual content, non-consensual creampie, breeding, yandere Marquis de Gramont, power play, and power imbalance, obsession, dark Marquis de Gramont, and abuse of power. The list will be added more as the story progresses. Minors, don't read.
Story Masterlist
PREV : Chapter 04
NEXT : Chapter 06
Chapter Summary:
After enduring a little more of the Marquis' lust and receiving the compensation, she finally quit. But will that stop the Marquis de Gramont and his unhealthy fixation on her?
The next morning, Yn awoke as the light of dawn hit her through the curtains. She grimaced before she forced her eyes to open. The first thing she saw was the walls of a bedroom - deep burgundy, richly decorated with accents of golden trim. She glanced to see the bed she was lying on and finally registered in her head that the bed was the largest she had ever seen, with a thick mattress and comforter of the finest down, embroidered in intricate patterns of gold thread. The sheets were made of a delicate silken fabric, soft and inviting against her skin so that she felt like she was in heaven.
She looked down and realized she was naked and under the covers. She shifted and finally felt them - a pair of long arms with bulging veins wrapping around her waist from behind. It was at that moment she finally remembered everything that had transpired last night.
She took a glance over her shoulder and confirmed that last night was not a nightmare. The Marquis de Gramont was asleep and spooning her from behind, his arms wrapped around her waist as if it was a very normal thing to do between them, when in fact, they hardly knew each other.
She carefully lifted his arms off of her and scooted away from him till she sat up on the edge of the bed. The dried semen, juices, and blood between her legs did not go unnoticed by her as she gazed at them with disbelief and slight horror. She then looked to the side, noticing more of these dried liquids smearing the bedsheets visibly.
She frowned, feeling disappointed and repulsed in herself for what happened last night. She felt sick and disgusted for being so weak and not fighting him that well. She believed she was partially at fault for allowing him to violate her.
But, one thing for sure, the Marquis was a demon in disguise, she thought. She was no longer a virgin; she had been corrupted and taken advantage of. She was used by him like a cock-sleeve by a ruthless man. The worst part was she knew that she had enjoyed most of it, orgasmed at least three times, and it disgusted her.
However, she really abhorred that he had come inside her two times and he was so unapologetic about it. He did not even show any bit of remorse too after fucking her into the bed. She thought: Does he not care that he would get her pregnant? With his child? Wouldn't any typical rich man hate it if a commoner like her got pregnant by him?
She shook her head as she began to mull over her situation in her nakedness, disregarding the cold air brushing against her skin. The first solution she could think of was that she would run to the nearest pharmacy or healthcare store and buy the morning-after pill. She had heard that the pill could be effective if one takes it within 24 hours of unprotected sex, but it's not guaranteed.
She signed inwardly. She wished she wouldn't have to undergo this kind of issue. The mistake was having unprotected sex in the first place. No. The first, major mistake was having sex in the first place. But how could she avoid that when he... when the Marquis...
She glowered and shot a hateful glare at the sleeping man behind her before she gathered her wits and stood up, rising from the bed with shaky legs, and felt the carpet beneath her feet and the sheer impression of softness against the soles of her feet. The floor was of the finest polished wood and she felt like she was in a fine palace. She was naked and alone in an unknown place with a man she barely knew.
Moving her legs cause her to feel more of the dried juices in between her legs and she felt revolted yet again. She couldn't bear to put on her underwear and dress without washing them off, so she made the decision to look for the bathroom first.
Glancing around the bedroom, she searched for a door or pathway that might lead to the Marquis' personal bathroom. There's no way this room wasn't attached to its own bathroom, she thought.
She perceived a door other than the main door of his bedroom to the hallway. Inside the bathroom was a luxurious sight to look at. Cream walls and marble flooring shone in the light shining from the beautiful chandelier above. The jacuzzi was a deep, inviting pool of clear blue water. Besides that, there was a wide clear space with a modern ceiling shower attached above. There was a large, plush vanity with a full-length mirror, and counters lined with expensive toiletries. The room was filled with everything one would need for a home spa experience.
She was mesmerized by everything inside it until she felt yet again the dried semen dribbling from her sore pussy. She immediately grabbed several tissues and sat on the wall-hung toilet. After peeing, she used the water hose beside it to wash off the dried liquid between her inner thighs.
"Ugh!" she grunted as the cold water touched her sensitive skin. She winced and let it flow, washing the residue of the Marquis' ejaculation away.
Her fingers were delicate as they rubbed her private area with light, quick motions, cleaning the sore spot. She whimpered quietly while her hands cleaned her most private area, trying to forget what happened.
The water turned a pinkish hue as the cleansing water swirled around the toilet bowl. She cleaned herself up thoroughly, but there was only so much she could do when she could feel that some of them were still inside her pussy. She thought: She has to take a thorough shower if she wants to clean up as much semen as she could from inside her pussy.
But no. She could not take a shower in the home of the man who had taken her forcefully - who had to threaten her to get what he wanted. She knew in an instant that she had to get out of this place immediately and if possible, leave without waking up the Marquis.
She had just flushed the toilet when a familiar voice, thick with a French accent, enacted behind her, "Good morning."
She shrieked, swiftly turning around, covering her breasts with her arms and pinching her thighs together in an attempt to obscure her full nudity from the Frenchman. She felt her heart beat faster and faster in her chest, making her feel so vulnerable, as she stared up at the tall Marquis.
He stood tall and imposing in the doorway, blocking her escape. His body was accentuated by his toned arms which were folded over his bare chest. His dark eyes were smug and arrogant, as he looked down at her with a smirk. He appeared to be enjoying the heightened tension in the room, relishing in the power he held over her.
Yn then scowled at him which plainly showed she was angry and disgusted by him before she headed straight for the sink to wash her hands. She remained in silence, not giving him any response to his greeting. Now that he had awoken, she decided to just get out of the mansion with her promised 50 thousand dollars.
"I take it you slept well?" he asked, his voice telling her he still had that smug smile on his face.
He did not show an ounce of remorse for what he did to her and that made her feel even more angry and disgusted. She splashed some cold water on her face, trying to freshen up her face, when the Marquis spoke up, "Why are you in such a rush? We have all the time-"
Yn whirled around sharply to look him in the eye - despite the intimidating height difference between them - and said with a firm tone, "I'm going home. I have done my part and the deal is settled. Now give me my 50k."
The Marquis let out a brief laugh as though it was amusing to watch her like that. He replied, "Don't be hasty, ma lapine. I've asked my chef to prepare breakfast for us."
Yn's eyes blew wide, knowing this was his tactic to get what he wanted. She almost instantly answered back, "I'm not hungry. I am leaving now!"
She stormed towards him, intending to brush past him and exit his lavish bathroom. However, just as she was about to reach him, one of his hands suddenly rose to flick a switch on the wall next to the door.
In an instant, the ceiling shower inside a wide empty space inside the bathroom turned on. Yn halted in her tracks and glanced at it while the Frenchman stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Once she cast her eyes back on him, he pointed towards the shower and said, "We can't let you go home in that state."
"I'm not staying any longer," stated Yn with a firm voice, slowly feeling agitated that he did not listen to her or at least give an effort to understand her.
The Marquis slowly stepped closer, his dark eyes never leaving hers as he said, "I was not asking."
Suddenly, he grasped her arm and yanked her with him towards the running shower. Yn immediately struggled against his grip but her feet ended up skidding across the floor as the Marquis never relent or at least loosen his hold on her.
Meanwhile, Sydney had woken up as usual and came out of her bedroom to search for what she always looked for first thing in every morning - her big stepsister, Yn. However, after scouring the living room and the kitchen of their dingy apartment, she gloomily dragged her legs towards the couch in the living room where Barbara was sound asleep.
"Wake up! Wake up!" the little girl cried out.
Even Rosie, their cat, had come into the scene and meowed at the babysitter. Sydney continued wailing at the babysitter, hoping she would wake up any moment now. She was in too much of a dreary mood, especially after she found out that her sweet, big stepsister still had not yet returned.
Soon enough, Barbara slowly stirred awake and drearily opened her eyes. After seeing the small child leaning over her, she let out a small yawn and drawled, "Is Yn back already?"
"No!" the little girl cried out. "She's still not here!"
Barbara searched for her smartphone which happened to be pressed into the couch beneath her bum. She unlocked the phone and noticed that Yn still had not replied to any of her messages. That got Barbara concerned about her cousin, yet she still remained calm since she did see Yn going out in a pretty dress.
Barbara told her, "She's gonna be fine, Syd. Do you have school today?"
Sydney nodded, "Yeah."
Barbara glanced at the time in her gadget and asked, "What time does the school start?"
"Eight-thirty."
In Barbara's phone, the time was 8:15 in the morning.
Barbara suddenly shot up from the couch and began to blabber about the little girl being late for school and whatnot. She sent Sydney to the shower and began to muse. She knew she couldn't prepare breakfast in time for her so she decided that they could buy some sandwiches on their way to school.
Meanwhile, back to Yn...
Obscene noises of moans, groans, and wet slapping of skin against skin erupted from the bathroom of the Marquis de Gramont. The man was having his way with Yn in the shower, fucking her deep and rough under the endless shower, uncaring that he had forced himself on her. He smirked as he towered over her. His powerful arms held her legs in the air, wrapping them around his waist and pushing her against the shower wall with his body.
Yn felt helpless as she was held in the air and pinned to the wall. Her heart raced, her breathing coming out in short, shallow gasps. Despite her mind screaming for her to get away, her body could not escape from the insatiable lust of the Marquis. The man had her wrapped in a tight grip that seemed impossible to break free from. She felt powerless and trapped between the wall and the beast that was possessing her body for his own pleasure.
The Marquis seemed to take pleasure in seeing the fear in her eyes and he continued to thrust into her harder and faster with each passing second. She whimpered in pain and pleasure as she started to push her hands against his chest, signaling him to stop. The man seemed relentless as he kept pushing himself onto Yn's body, forcing himself deeper and deeper into her until she felt like she would break apart any moment soon.
The pleasure she had initially felt was quickly replaced by aching exhaustion from being constantly pounded against the wall by his cock like she was a mere fucktoy to him. Tears stung at her eyes but she refused to let them fall - she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing how broken she was feeling at this moment.
Their skin and hair were utterly drenched under the running ceiling shower. The steamy water from the shower continued to cascade on their bodies, the heat radiating off of them as the Frenchman held her to his liking. Yn's body ached and her strength seemed to have left her; making her lay there and let the man take his pleasure from her. But then he suddenly stopped, and Yn felt relieved that it had all ended - until he started to grope her body, exploring every inch of her skin with a possessive caress.
She tried to push his hands away, but he held her tight against him. His hands wandered around her curves as if mapping out his property and claiming it for himself. She gasped at the sensation, feeling completely violated at this moment.
But then he started to kiss her. His lips were rough and demanding against hers, his tongue exploring every corner of her mouth with a passionate intensity that demanded a response from her own body.
And before she knew it, he pressed her firmer into the wall, ramming balls deep, as he climaxed inside her under the shower head. Skin against skin, their slick bodies, and bare nipples slid together as he explored her with open mouths and yearning hands. She could feel his warm seed filling her womb in large spurts. Every touch seemed like a possessive caress as the man held Yn close to him while his hands held her ass to keep her upright against the wall.
Two minutes had passed and he tenderly let go of her, letting her stand on her feet before he withdrew. Yn felt her legs turn to jelly and she slowly collapsed onto the floor, completely spent and used. Embarrassment crept up on her as she scrambled to cover herself with her arms, desperate not to be left exposed in this state of shame despite how he had just used her like a fucktoy.
"My apologies, ma lapine. I could not resist," the Marquis spoke up, the apology seemed sarcastic and mocking. It was crystal clear that he was not feeling remorseful at all for keeping her in the shower and taking advantage of her. He added, "We have to take the shower again and get ready for breakfast."
Yn wanted to protest. She wanted to shout at him, hit him, or yell at him. But the strength she had felt during the forced intercourse upon her was gone and she felt too tired to even form a coherent thought anymore. Her body was sore in places. Her skin felt tender from the way he had used her. Her mind was still flooded with thoughts of disgust and humiliation.
The Marquis ended up lifting her from the floor by the arm and washed her body with bubbly soap willingly. It's as if they were both a married couple. He even took care of her hair with what appeared to be a unisex shampoo.
When it came to drying themselves off, Yn did it herself and was quick to dress up, wanting to obscure her nudity from his eyes as soon as possible, fearing that he would get aroused and force himself on her again.
The Marquis de Gramont appeared to be completely unaffected by their earlier activities. He showed her a smile - one of satisfaction and confidence - and looked entirely composed and ready for the day while he sat across from Yn at the dining table.
On the table was a variety of fine French breakfast dishes. There were croissants, jams, jellies, and other sweet treats to start the day off. There were also savory dishes like omelets, bacon, sausage, and ham. An array of fruits was laid out in a colorful fashion to bring color to the table. There was a variety of freshly brewed coffee and tea, with cream and sugar to get the day started. Everything looked warm and inviting, and there was an air of elegance in the way it was all laid out.
Yn ate with no appetite, but she forced herself to eat as she needed the energy to start her day. Her mind raced with questions and confusion. She had been promised $50,000 by the Marquis de Gramont, but the events that had unfolded in the past few minutes made her doubt his sincerity. He had the tendency to do whatever he wanted regardless of the other person's consent. She feared he would do the same to the deal they made and break it.
Gathering her courage, she mustered the strength to break the uncomfortable silence. Her voice trembled slightly as she asked, "Umm, sir... you had promised me 50k dollars. What about that?"
The Marquis paused for a moment, his gaze fixed on Yn, his expression unreadable. Then, he leaned back in his chair, a smug smile playing on his lips.
"Ah," he replied, his voice dripping with arrogance, "Do not worry. I am a man of my word. You will receive your payment, as promised."
He suddenly raised one hand into the air and flicked his fingers with one loud snap. Chidi came into the scene and approached Yn. He stood beside her and placed a thick envelope on the table. As if to ensure it was not another scheme of his, Yn grabbed it and checked the content.
$50,000 was indeed inside the envelope. She inwardly exhaled a long breath of relief. When she looked up at the Marquis de Gramont, he was smiling as if he was amused at how distrustful she was about him.
"Had you given in without resistance, I would have given you double the amount," he said, smugly.
"What?" Yn blurted out, shocked beyond belief and incredulous.
"I'm joking," the Marquis said while chuckling at his own joke.
"But why?" Yn asked, her voice quivering with a mix of anger and vulnerability. "Why did you do that to me? Why do you seem so... focused on me... when there are other girls who would do anything to entertain you?"
The Marquis' face lit up with amusement and admiration, his eyes twinkling as he studied Yn, his lips curling into a mischievous smile.
"Yn," his smirk widened as he spoke her name as if relishing in her vulnerability, "There are things about you that have captured my attention. There is a certain quality, an essence, that sets you apart from the others."
Yn's brows furrowed in both curiosity and suspicion. She couldn't comprehend what the Marquis found so compelling about her, especially when there were countless other women who would love to have his attention, like Sabrina from the casino, for example. Yn was certain that the Marquis also knew of Sabrina's lust for him, but he seemed to disregard her or did not reciprocate it.
Nevertheless, Yn chose to ignore the Marquis' mysterious fascination with her. With this 50 thousand dollars of cash in her hand, she could finally quit the casino for good. But first, she had to do a couple more things to make sure she was good to quit.
Eager to start her day, Yn stared the Marquis directly in the eye and stated, "I have to go. I really should be leaving now."
The Marquis stared at her a while longer with an unreadable look on his face. His eyes still held that glinting fascination for her. It's like he was cherishing the picture he was viewing before it was gone. Yn was donning her previous, same dress. She was insistent on wearing it again despite his offer to wear something else she could find from his wardrobe.
"Of course," he finally spoke with a half-smile, "I am sure you have much to do. My best bodyguard, Chidi, will send you home in my limousine."
Yn got up from the table slowly, her eyes still fixated on the Marquis de Gramont as if expecting he was this insatiable beast that would pounce on her over the table again. But he simply smiled and stood up in a relaxed manner. He began to lead her to the entrance of the mansion and told her, "I wish I could take you back home myself, but I have a duty that needs my attention elsewhere."
The both of them followed Chidi out of the mansion where numerous bodyguards lined up from the main door to the limousine parked by the road. Yn stepped out of the mansion, feeling a mixture of relief and apprehension. She had just received the promised cash from the Marquis, and yet, she still couldn't help but feel a bit wary of him. He had this aura about him that made her feel like he could twist every word to get what he desired.
Yn took slow breaths, hoping to control her racing heart as she passed each guard. Once they reached the car, Chidi opened the door for her. She was about to sit down inside it when the Marquis halted her by speaking up, "We will see each other again at the casino, Yn. Perhaps tonight."
His voice was smooth and filled with a certain promise that made her heart squeeze. She looked up to meet his gaze and felt her skin erupt with goosebumps as she saw the intensity in his eyes.
"Until then," he said before he stepped closer to her.
That was when he leaned his head closer to hers. Yn's eyes blew wide as she perceived that he was intending to kiss her on the lips. She swiftly turned her head to the side, causing him to brush his lips against her cheek.
Yn quickly spun around and practically jumped into the limousine, eager to escape from the Marquis' presence. She took a shy peek at the man and noticed that he was pursing his lips, his right eye twitched in silent anger, as he kept his silent yet fiery gaze on her figure inside the vehicle.
Chidi glanced at his master, still holding the door open. With his eyes locked on her, the French aristocrat nodded to his loyal bodyguard. Chidi then shut the door to the limousine before he walked to the driver's seat, sat inside, and started up the engine. Yn looked away in slight fear and cast her eyes to her hands which were gripping the envelope of cash.
The limousine finally drove away from the mansion. It moved slowly through the streets, past tall buildings and busy roads until it reached the city. It was then Chidi first spoke to her, "Where is your home, miss?"
Yn hesitated for a moment, unsure of how much she could trust Chidi. She didn't want to reveal the location of her humble apartment, as she valued her privacy and safety. The casino seemed like a safer option, a familiar place where she could go home from there.
"I would prefer to be dropped off at the casino, please," Yn replied, her voice steady but cautious.
Chidi's brows furrowed as he glanced at her through the rearview mirror. He seemed torn between following her request and fulfilling his duty to ensure her safety.
"Miss, it would be best I drop you off at your home," Chidi insisted, his tone gentle yet firm. "It is my duty to see that you arrive safely."
Yn's heart raced as she weighed her options. She didn't want Chidi to know where she lived, but she also didn't want to raise any further suspicions. Finally, she decided to lie.
"Okay," Yn relented, forcing a nervous smile. "Drop me off at the Silver Crest Apartments."
Chidi nodded, accepting her answer. He adjusted his course, maneuvering through the city streets toward the designated area. Yn stared out the window, her mind racing with both relief and anxiety. She hoped her lie would be enough to protect her privacy.
As the limousine pulled up near the apartment complex, Yn thanked Chidi and stepped out of the vehicle. She watched as the car slowly and hesitantly drove away. It's like Chidi wanted to watch if the apartment was really her home. Her eyes lingered on its retreating form until it disappeared from sight, finally making her feel safe and away from any trace of the Marquis de Gramont.
However, she was not at peace yet. She glanced at every direction in the crowded city before she began to rush off to her next destination - the pharmacy.
Yn's heart raced as she stepped into the nearest pharmacy, her mind still reeling from the fact that the Marquis had come inside her many times and that her getting pregnant was possible. She approached the counter, her eyes scanning the aisles for the packaging of morning-after pills.
The pharmacist, a kind-faced woman with a warm smile, greeted Yn and asked if she needed any assistance. Yn mustered a shaky smile and requested the morning-after pills, trying her best to appear calm despite the turbulent emotions churning within her.
The pharmacist nodded understandingly and retrieved the requested pills from behind the counter. As she handed them to Yn, her gaze turned sympathetic.
"Would you also like to consider using birth control pills?" the pharmacist gently inquired. "They can offer additional protection and peace of mind."
Yn hesitated, her mind filled with conflicting thoughts. She had never considered using birth control before, but the recent events had left her feeling vulnerable and unsure of what the future might hold. After a moment of contemplation, she nodded and decided to take the pharmacist's advice.
"Yes, please," Yn replied softly. "I'll take a pack of birth control pills as well."
The pharmacist smiled warmly, appreciating Yn's decision. She retrieved a pack of birth control pills and placed it alongside the morning-after pills on the counter. Yn paid for the items, the weight of the situation becoming all too real as she watched the cashier process her purchase.
Leaving the pharmacy with the pills safely stowed in her bag, Yn felt a mix of relief and uncertainty. She knew that taking precautions was essential, given the circumstances she had found herself in. However, the decision to use birth control also served as a stark reminder of the control the Marquis had exerted over her body.
Determined to regain her agency, Yn walked briskly through the city streets, her mind focused on her next steps. She needed to find a safe place to regroup, gather her thoughts, and chart her path forward. And that was home. Her apartment.
She quickened her pace, navigating the busy sidewalks with ease, her thoughts consumed with the events of the past few days. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't shake the memory of the Marquis's touch, the feeling of his hands on her skin, the way he made her... feel disgusted with her own body.
By boarding a bus, she arrived at her apartment as soon as she could. Once she entered her humble abode, she almost ran head-on into Barbara, her cousin. Both of them were astounded to see one another that they almost yelled.
"Barbara!" Yn said in surprise.
"Yn!" shouted Barbara, "Where were you, girl?! I called you many times! Spammed you with messages too! You didn't reply at all! I know you're getting dick but at least answer!"
Yn's brain almost shut down because of what her cousin said. She was flabbergasted that she asked in subtle disgust, "What?"
A naughty grin curved Barbara's lips and she said, "I saw you in your pretty dress yesterday. You had dinner with some guy, right? And then you got laid with him. Had some mind-blowing sex that you couldn't even answer your phone."
Yn began, "No, it was just-"
"And you came back with the same dress as yesterday!" Barbara pointed out, "You need to tell me the truth, sis! At least don't get me and Sydney worried!"
Upon hearing the little girl's name, Yn remembered instantly where she was supposed to be and she inquired instantly, "Sydney! Where is she?! Is she at school?!"
"Yes! I sent her and just came back here!" stated Barbara, "And don't change the subject, Yn! I want to know the guy you're hooking up with! Is he rich?! Oh wait, first of all, did you use protection?"
Again, she was reminded of another thing that she had to take care of immediately. With her hands holding the plastic of pills, she zoomed toward the bathroom. Barbara also followed her.
As Yn reached the bathroom, she closed the door behind them and leaned against the sink, her hands trembling. Barbara's concerned gaze met hers, and she immediately noticed the package of morning-after pills in Yn's hands.
Barbara approached her cousin, her expression filled with empathy. She gently reached out and took the package of pills, her eyes scanning the instructions printed on it.
"These are morning-after pills," Barbara explained softly. "They are most effective when taken as soon as possible after unprotected intercourse, preferably within 24 hours. Let's make sure we follow the instructions correctly."
Yn nodded, grateful for Barbara's support. She watched as her cousin carefully read the instructions, absorbing the information. After a moment, Barbara looked up, her voice steady and reassuring.
Barbara guided her the entire time, giving her instructions on consuming these emergency pills since she had experiences in this before. She continued, "Remember, these pills are intended for emergency use only. They are not meant to be used as a regular form of contraception. If you have any concerns, you should consult a healthcare professional."
Yn nodded, grateful for Barbara's guidance and the accurate information she provided. Together, they carefully followed the instructions, ensuring that Yn took the pills correctly.
After taking the morning-after pills, Yn felt a sense of relief wash over her. She knew that she had taken the necessary steps to protect herself and minimize the risk of an unplanned pregnancy.
Barbara stood by her side, offering a comforting presence. "You did the right thing, Yn. If you have any questions about this, just ask me. I'm here for you."
Yn's eyes filled with tears, gratitude shining through. "Thank you, Barbara. I don't know what I would do without you."
Barbara smiled, noticing how this issue was big for her cousin. She asked her, "Did you get birth control pills? We might as well take care of that too."
Yn nodded swiftly, "Yeah. Could you guide me on that too?"
"Oh, Yn, what kind of sex-positive cousin would I be if I don't help you with that," said Barbara before she guided her on the birth control pills as well.
After several minutes of discussion, Barbara was confident that Yn understood the proper dosage and frequency of taking the pills, as well as the risks of using them. After taking a deep breath and opening the pack of birth control pills, Yn carefully removed one pill and held it in her hand, her fingers trembling slightly. With Barbara by her side, she swallowed the pill and then took a sip of water to help it go down.
Once everything was done, Barbara couldn't help but lightly reprimand her, "But seriously, Yn. You had sex without protection? That is so risky."
Yn sighed. She did not want to tell Barbara that she got threatened with having sex with a man who turned out to be so influential in a foreign country - the Marquis de Gramont. In other words, he forced himself on her. She didn't want to tell anyone about that. What matters most was that she prevented a pregnancy, got a lot of compensation in return, and that she could finally handle the matter with her mother's medical bills.
Yn took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to respond to Barbara's question. She knew she couldn't share the full details of what had transpired with the Marquis, but she also didn't want to lie to her cousin.
"I made a mistake, Bar," Yn admitted, her voice tinged with regret. "I found myself in a situation where I... couldn't think clearly. Now, I just want to forget it."
Barbara's expression softened as she listened, understanding that there was more to the story than Yn could reveal. She reached out and squeezed her cousin's hand, offering her support and reassurance.
"I'm here for you, Yn," Barbara said gently. "I won't pry. Just know that you have me, okay?"
Yn smiled in gratitude as she looked at her cousin. Despite not knowing the full extent of what had happened, Barbara's unconditional support meant the world to her. It reminded her that she didn't have to face this alone.
Nodding her head to her, Yn told, "Thank you so much. And for everything. You helped me a lot with babysitting Sydney."
Barbara smiled back and replied, "She is such a joy to handle. Will you be working again tonight?"
Yn started to contemplate her options, realizing that with the substantial compensation she had received, she no longer needed to continue working at the casino. She could finally fulfill her responsibilities towards her mother's medical bills and provide a stable life for Sydney without having to rely on late-night shifts.
She turned to Barbara with a bright expression, eager to share her decision with her cousin, and said, "No. I won't be working tonight."
Barbara's eyes widened in surprise, a mix of concern and relief crossing her face. "Really? You've been working so hard to support Mom and Sydney. If it's about Sydney, don't worry! I can take care of her again tonight!"
Yn smiled wider and shook her head saying, "There's no need. I'm going to rest up tonight and spend more time with Sydney. But thank you for taking care of her all these times, Bar. I truly appreciate it."
Barbara's eyes lit up with understanding and a hint of relief. "That's great, Yn! You deserve some time to heal, and I'm sure Sydney will be thrilled to spend more quality time with you. Just let me know if you ever need my help again, okay?"
Yn hugged her cousin tightly, feeling a surge of gratitude for the support Barbara had provided. "Thank you, Bar. I'll definitely keep that in mind. Take care, and I'll see you soon."
After bidding her cousin goodbye, Yn took a moment to collect herself. She knew she had made the right decision to prioritize her well-being and her family. With renewed determination, she showered, got ready, and prepared to face the day ahead.
As she stepped out of her apartment, a sense of purpose guided her steps. She went to the nearest ATM to withdraw cash. Once she took enough money, she hailed a taxi and directed the driver to take her straight to the hospital. Today was the day she would finally pay off her mother's medical bills and ease the burden that had weighed on her shoulders for so long.
Upon arriving at the hospital, Yn approached the billing department with the envelope containing the funds she had saved up and also some funds she got as compensation from the Marquis. She felt a mixture of nervousness and anticipation, but above all, a bright hope.
"It's done!"
Before she knew it, the nurse from behind the counter was already grinning at her, placing documents and a small piece of paper on the table and sliding it towards Yn. The nurse started, "The payment is complete! Here are the documents for your record and this is your receipt, Miss!"
Yn stared wide-eyed at the documents before her, especially the receipt which plainly showed that the huge amount of money she had collected was accepted and was exchanged back to her in that tiny piece of paper. She couldn't help but ask the nurse again, "Then, my mom, will she...?"
Yn's heart raced as she eagerly awaited the nurse's response. The weight of her mother's condition and the hope of a possible treatment hung in the air. The nurse looked at Yn with a warm smile, understanding the significance of this moment for her.
"The payment has been received, Miss," the nurse said kindly. "We will now proceed with assessing your mother's current condition and determining the next steps. The doctor will evaluate her and determine if she is fit enough to undergo the surgery soon enough."
Relief flooded over Yn, mixed with a surge of nervous anticipation. She knew that the outcome was still uncertain, but the fact that she had fulfilled her part by paying the medical bills gave her a glimmer of hope.
The nurse continued, "We will need to conduct a thorough examination and perform some tests to assess your mother's overall health and suitability for the surgery. This will include checking her vital signs, reviewing her medical history, and possibly conducting diagnostic tests. Don't worry, miss. We will handle everything from now on."
Yn nodded, her emotions intertwined with anxiety and optimism. She understood that there were still challenges ahead, but having taken this crucial step and having taken off a huge burden of expensive medical treatment, she felt delighted and hopeful. She felt like she was on cloud nine.
"I hope everything goes well," Yn whispered, her voice filled with both gratitude and trepidation.
The nurse offered her a reassuring smile. "We will do our best, Miss. Our medical team is experienced and dedicated to providing the best care possible. For now, you may visit your mother while I notify the staff about the next step."
Yn nodded gratefully, appreciating the nurse's kind words and guidance. With a mix of nervous excitement and relief, she made her way to her mother's room. As she entered, her eyes fell upon her mother lying in the hospital bed, frail and weak. She was quick to notice her daughter and she greeted her with a weak smile, "Yn, my heart. You are here."
Yn approached her with a gentle touch, a mixture of love and concern evident in her expression. After taking a chair and sitting down next to the bed and holding her mother's hand, Yn stared at her with a loving yet relieved smile. Her mother was bewildered by the look she gave her, but she did not have to express her question because her daughter finally told her:
"Mom," Yn whispered, her voice filled with tenderness. "I did it. I took care of the medical bills."
Her mother's eyes widened and a glimmer of hope flickered within them. It was then Yn noticed her energy rising back up as her mother began to sit up in the bed. Yn helped her, and once done, the older lady gawked at her with astonishment and elation. She was silent for a while as if she half-expected Yn to say it was a joke. But Yn kept smiling at her assuredly.
To Yn's surprise, tears brimmed her mother's eyes as she asked with a shaky voice, "Really?"
"Yes, really," Yn's smile became brighter and more confident. Her mother was now filled with excitement, her frail body shaking as she spread her arms toward her daughter. Yn knew what she wanted and instantly came forward, going into her mother's open arms and embracing her.
Her mother patted her as she squeezed her tighter lovingly. "You did it, Yn. I couldn't be more proud of you. Thank you. Thank you so much!"
Yn's eyes filled with tears as she held her mother tightly, feeling an overwhelming surge of love and relief. The weight of their struggles seemed to lift momentarily, replaced by a profound sense of accomplishment. She had completely let go of how some of the money she collected was actually compensation she got in exchange for her body to the Marquis. No. She did not have to worry about him now.
"Be strong now, mom," Yn whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "I did it so that you could receive the care you deserve."
They pulled back and her mother nodded, her eyes still brimming with tears as she tried her hardest to not make them spill. She answered, "I will. What you did for me will not be wasted."
Her mother's hands cupped Yn's face as she looked into her eyes with unwavering love. Tears streamed down Yn's face as the mother asked, "Does Sydney know? She must be at school now, right?"
Yn shook her head and replied, "No. And yes, she's at school."
Her mother nodded with a warm smile and said, "Then I want to surprise her. By coming back home."
Yn's heart swelled with joy at her mother's words. The idea of surprising Sydney with their mother's return filled her with an immense sense of anticipation and happiness. A radiant smile spread across Yn's face as she imagined the sheer delight that would wash over Sydney when she saw her beloved mother waiting for her at home.
Laughter bubbled forth from both Yn and her mother, mingling with tears of relief and love. Their laughter danced through the hospital room, carrying with it a resounding symphony of triumph and gratitude.
Yn's heart swelled with determination as she focused on the future and the steps she needed to take to create a better life for herself and her family. She pushed aside the memories of her encounter with the Marquis de Gramont, choosing not to let it define her anymore. The compensation she had received, tainted though it may be, had served its purpose in securing her mother's medical treatment.
Now, with the medical bills paid and her responsibilities fulfilled, Yn knew it was time to move on from the casino job. She had endured enough. She did not have to see the Marquis again and it was time to prioritize her own well-being and seek a new path.
As she made her way back home from the hospital, a surge of determination coursed through her veins. Yn's mind raced with thoughts of her resignation letter. She knew it was necessary to formalize her decision and bring closure to that chapter of her life.
Upon arriving at her apartment, she wasted no time. Yn settled herself at her small desk, grabbed a pen and a fresh sheet of paper, and began to write. With each stroke of the pen, her words carried a sense of conviction and liberation.
In her resignation letter, Yn expressed her gratitude for the opportunity to work at the casino and the experiences she had gained. However, she firmly stated her decision to resign, citing personal reasons and the desire to pursue new avenues in her life. She kept the letter professional and concise, yet it resonated with her determination to reclaim her agency and forge a brighter future.
After carefully reviewing and signing the letter, Yn sealed it in an envelope. As she held the envelope in her hands, a weight lifted from her shoulders. Now she had to take care of another matter - How to send this letter without going to the casino?
The next thing she knew, she found herself standing before an unfamiliar door. After knocking, the door was soon opened from the inside and revealed Emily, her close friend from the casino. Emily was not as shocked to see since she had expected her. Yn had told her through texts that she would come by.
"Yn!" Emily smiled brightly and she immediately opened the door wider, "Come in! Your text surprised me!"
Yn returned Emily's smile gratefully, stepping inside the welcoming embrace of her friend's apartment. The air was filled with a sense of familiarity and warmth, a stark contrast to the high-energy atmosphere of the casino they had worked in together.
"Thank you, Em," Yn said, her voice laced with gratitude. "Sorry for surprising you like this."
Emily shut the door and replied, "Hey, it's okay. I'm actually excited to have you here. You've never been to my apartment, right?"
Yn chuckled, "No, I haven't."
"And I haven't been to yours," added Emily with a grin as she disappeared into the kitchen.
As Yn settled into a comfortable chair, Emily offered her a hot cup of tea. Yn accepted it gratefully, holding the warm cup in her hands and savoring the soothing aroma. She took a moment to compose herself before sharing her decision with Emily.
"I've been thinking, Em. I'm quitting my job at the casino," Yn stated firmly, her eyes filled with determination. "I've collected enough money for my mother's medical treatment."
Emily's eyes widened in surprise, but then her face lit up with admiration. "Yn, that's incredible! You did it! I'm so happy for you and your mom!"
Yn's smile grew wider as she felt the support and encouragement radiating from her friend. It was moments like these that affirmed her decision to leave the casino behind and embrace a new chapter in her life.
"I've written my resignation letter," Yn continued, reaching into her bag and retrieving the sealed envelope. "But I don't want to set foot in the casino again. Do you think you could help me deliver it to Mr. Malone?"
Emily's eyes sparkled with excitement as she enthusiastically took the envelope from Yn's hand. "Absolutely! Consider it done. I'll make sure it reaches his hand only, and you won't have to worry about a thing."
Relief washed over Yn as she entrusted her resignation letter to Emily. She knew that her friend would handle the situation with professionalism and discretion. With this weight off her shoulders, Yn felt like she was truly free. She felt her shoulders become much lighter.
"Thank you, Emily," Yn said, her voice filled with appreciation. "I will definitely miss you."
Emily smiled warmly, placing a hand on Yn's shoulder. "I'm so happy you got to quit the casino, Yn. And remember, even if you're not my colleague anymore, we're still friends, okay? Just text me whenever you want. Come over too!"
Yn chuckled lightheartedly and nodded, grinning at her close friend whom she could trust. Suddenly, Emily's smile dropped and she asked, "Oh, Yn, what about the Marquis?"
Yn's smile faded slightly as Emily mentioned the Marquis. She took a deep breath, her gaze focused as she considered her response.
"I don't want to dwell on him anymore, Em," Yn replied, her voice filled with determination. "I've made the decision to leave the casino, and with that, I believe I won't have to see him again."
"But..." Emily started, "I don't know. It seems like he likes you. By the way, I know."
Yn raised an eyebrow and quizzed, "Know what?"
Emily stared at her pointedly and revealed, "I know you went on a dinner date with him last night."
Yn did not respond as she turned her head to the side and mulled over. Emily continued, "Amelia told me. She told me, Sophia, and Emma. That the Marquis took you out after Amy tried to apologize to him. Something about you taking the consequences on her behalf. When Amy said you were all dressed up, we figured it was a date."
Yn's heart sank as Emily revealed that she knew about the dinner date with the Marquis. She felt a mixture of frustration and vulnerability, not wanting to disclose the truth about what had transpired between her and the Marquis.
"Yeah, a date... umm..." Yn was clearly feeling uncomfortable talking about the Marquis, and Emily noticed that. Yn added, "He did ask me like that. A dinner date with him and he would not fire Amy. That's all."
Emily observed the unease in Yn's voice and expression, realizing that there was more to the story than she initially thought. Sensing her friend's discomfort, Emily decided to tread carefully and respect Yn's boundaries.
"Hey," Emily replied gently. "You don't have to say more if you don't want to. I'm here for you, no matter what."
Yn's eyes met Emily's, filled with gratitude for her understanding. She took a deep breath, feeling a sense of relief that Emily wasn't pressing for further details.
"Thank you, Em," Yn said, her voice tinged with vulnerability and appreciation.
"Yn!"
Yn turned around, disregarding the little kids dawdling around her, as she looked at the entrance of the preschool. There she saw Sydney skipping towards her with eagerness, her radiant grin was so infectious it caused Yn to smile widely as well.
Once Sydney reached her, the former effused, "Yn! You're here!"
"I'm here, Syd," Yn spoke up as she held out a hand for the girl, "Let's go home."
On the way to their apartment, Sydney - just as Yn expected - asked her, "Where were you this morning? I was scared you got taken by bad guys, sissy."
"Aw, Sydney," Yn lied, "I'm so sorry! I had too much fun with my friends last night and I fell asleep at their house."
"Oh," Sydney looked up at her with her wide, doe eyes of innocence, "Okay!"
That was all her young stepsister could say before she started chattering about what she had learned from preschool. Soon enough, they arrived in their apartment. Yn prepared a delicious lunch for herself and Sydney, their shared laughter filling the cozy apartment. The aroma of home-cooked food wafted through the air, creating an atmosphere of warmth and comfort. Yn couldn't help but feel a deep sense of fulfillment as she watched Sydney's eyes light up with excitement.
As they sat down at the table, Yn served the food and they began to enjoy their meal together. Sydney's animated storytelling and Yn's attentive listening created a bond that transcended the mundane, filling their small apartment with an undeniable sense of joy and love.
In the midst of their conversation, Sydney paused for a moment and looked at Yn with hopeful eyes. "Sissy, can we buy a new Barbie movie today? I'm tired of watching the same one all the time."
Yn smiled affectionately at her stepsister and replied, "Of course! We can buy a new Barbie movie. And you know what? I'll watch it with you tonight."
Sydney's eyes widened with surprise, her face glowing with delight. "Really, Yn? You'll stay at home with me tonight?"
Yn nodded, her heart swelling with a newfound sense of purpose. "Yes, Syd. I will stay and I have a movie night with you. How does that sound?"
Sydney's joy was palpable as she clapped her hands and exclaimed, "Yay! I can't wait! It's going to be the best movie night ever!"
Yn couldn't help but share in Sydney's excitement, knowing that this simple act of being present meant the world to her young stepsister. It was a small but significant step towards rebuilding the bond they had lost during the difficult times.
After finishing their lunch, Yn made sure to give Rosie, their affectionate cat, some treats. The contented purring of the feline added to the comforting atmosphere, filling the apartment with a sense of peace and companionship.
As the afternoon stretched before them, Yn and Sydney engaged in various activities, painting pictures, playing games, and immersing themselves in imaginative adventures. The walls echoed with their laughter, filling the space with an undeniable sense of joy and love.
In the evening, as darkness descended, Yn prepared a cozy movie night setup. They snuggled up on the couch, surrounded by blankets and pillows, eagerly awaiting the start of the new Barbie movie. Sydney's eyes sparkled with anticipation, while Yn's heart swelled with a profound sense of gratitude for this precious moment.
Together, they embarked on a journey of imagination and wonder, the colorful world of Barbie unfolding before their eyes. As they watched the movie, their shared laughter and whispered commentary filled the room, creating an atmosphere of pure happiness and connection.
At that moment, surrounded by love and the innocence of childhood, Yn realized that she had made the right decision. By stepping away from the casino job and prioritizing her family, she had found a newfound happiness and purpose that money could never buy.
As the movie played on, immersing Sydney in its enchanting world, Yn couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. A lingering thought nagged at the back of her mind, reminding her that the life she had left behind at the casino might not be so easily forgotten. The ominous message from a certain Frenchman about consequences and haunting repercussions lingered in her thoughts.
Just as the tension was building within her, Yn's smartphone buzzed with an incoming call. Glancing at the screen, she saw it was Emily. She then stole a quick look at the wall clock and realized that Emily was supposed to be working at the casino at this moment.
With a quick apology to Sydney, she excused herself and stepped into her bedroom to answer the call, a sense of trepidation gripping her.
"Hey, Em," Yn greeted, her voice filled with a mixture of anticipation and concern. "What is it?"
Emily's voice on the other end of the line sounded urgent yet hushed, "Yn, sorry to disturb you but it's about the Marquis."
Yn's heart skipped a beat. She had hoped that leaving the casino and cutting ties with the Marquis would distance her from his influence. But now, it seemed that he had resurfaced in her life, bringing a wave of uncertainty and fear.
"What about him?" Yn asked, her voice trembling slightly.
Emily hesitated before responding, "He found out about your resignation from Mr. Malone. He's... not happy, Yn. He's quiet but... I saw his face."
Emily still had not finished but Yn immediately became pale as blood drained from her face. She stared into space as she remembered a flashback of what had occurred this morning. That time when she evaded his attempt to kiss her lips...
Yn quickly spun around and practically jumped into the limousine, eager to escape from the Marquis' presence. She took a shy peek at the man and noticed that...
Emily's voice continued from the other side of the call, "He was pursing his lips tightly."
He was pursing his lips...
Emily added, "His eye twitched and he just stood there."
His right eye twitched in silent anger, as he kept his silent yet fiery gaze on her figure inside the vehicle.
"I swear I felt his anger bubbling around him. It's eerie," ended Emily.
Yn felt her hands tremble slightly in fear and trepidation at the thought of the infuriated Marquis. She then balled them into fists to stop the tremble, but it was futile. That was when Emily appended, "Sophia noticed it too, and she wanted me to tell you to be careful. She has suspicion that the Marquis is involved in the underworld, and we don't know what he could do with his immense power and influence if provoked. Just let us know if you see any sign that he's stalking you."
Yn's heart sank at the revelation, a sense of dread creeping over her. She had always known that the Marquis was a dangerous man, but to have a notion that he was involved in the criminal underworld only added to her fear. She knew that she needed to be careful.
"Thank you for letting me know, Em. I'll be careful," Yn replied, her voice determined yet tinged with fear.
The phone call with Emily left her with a deep sense of unease. She couldn't shake off the image of the Marquis' angered face and the implications of his reaction to her resignation. Fear coiled in the pit of her stomach as she considered the dark possibilities that could unfold.
As the evening wore on, a foreboding silence settled over Yn's apartment. Sydney had drifted off to sleep after the movie, and Yn had tucked her into her bed. Shutting the TV and ensuring the locks were secured, Yn was allowed a moment to gather her thoughts.
A chilling silence hung in the air as Yn absorbed the gravity of the situation. She had hoped that by leaving the casino, she could sever her ties with the Marquis and find a safer path for herself that wouldn't damage her dignity anymore. But now, it seemed that she had only awakened a sleeping beast, a man consumed by anger... and revenge.
She began to ponder: Had she ever revealed her personal information to the Marquis?
When it comes to where she lived, she did not tell him an inkling at all, including Chidi who had sent her to the Silver Crest Apartments this morning, which was actually another apartment complex located a few blocks away from hers. So she was certain that at least the Marquis had no idea where her humble abode was. Perhaps Chidi had already given him false information about her living at some apartment.
Other than that, the Marquis did not know her phone number, unless he coerced Mr. Malone into giving him. She had to be prepared in case a mysterious caller contacts her phone in the future.
As the night grew darker, Yn couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Shadows seemed to dance menacingly outside her window, and every creak of the floorboards sent shivers down her spine. The air felt heavy with a sense of impending danger. She even went and double-checked the locks on every door and window, yet the fear persisted.
That sense of terror continued till the next morning and Yn did not sleep well because of it. She was on alert the whole night and morning that she couldn't get enough sleep, resulting in dark bags under her eyes. She had to wave off Sydney's concern when the little girl mentioned about it.
As the two of them left the apartment, Yn double-checked the lock again and went out of the apartment complex. That was when her fear and vigilance caused her to survey the surrounding and noticed a mysterious car parked outside the building, its dark-tinted windows concealing the identity of its occupants.
She became paled right away, feeling coldness surge through her body, as she gaped at the black car in horror. She couldn't take her eyes off of it as she wondered who was or were inside it. She even had a thought to confront it and make the occupants roll down their windows. But what if it's just some innocent people who were waiting for someone?
Yn ended up shielding Sydney from the car's view and walked faster to her preschool. After sending her off and ensuring she entered the building, Yn looked around again. This time, the car from before did not show up anywhere. She thought she was going crazy for suspecting anything as a trail of the Marquis.
She then boarded a bus to head for the cafe she worked the morning shift at. As the bus made its way through the city streets, Yn couldn't shake the feeling of being followed. She kept glancing over her shoulder, searching for any sign of the mysterious car she had seen earlier, but there was no trace of it. She told herself that she was being paranoid, that it was just her imagination running wild after the events of the previous night. But deep down, she knew that something wasn't right.
As Yn walked into the cafe, she was still feeling uneasy and kept glancing over her shoulder. Edric, her coworker who had a crush on her, immediately noticed her tired and anxious demeanor.
"Yn, are you alright?" he asked with a concerned look on his face.
Yn hesitated for a moment, unsure of whether or not to confide in him. However, the events of the previous night and the mysterious car outside her apartment had left her feeling vulnerable and exposed. But it was a matter that couldn't be talked so easily to someone. She did not want anyone else to get dragged into this mess involving a powerful French aristocrat.
"I'm okay, Edric," she claimed, "I just... did not get enough sleep last night."
She could not help but once again look over her shoulder and outside the cafe's large windows, searching for any suspicious car parking outside the cafe ever since she came in.
Out of nowhere, a large hand landed on her shoulder unexpectedly, causing her to flinch with surprise and fear, as she gawked at the owner of the hand - Edric. He noticed the terror in her expression and was filled with more concern for her.
"Yn," he queried again, this time massaging her shoulder as a comforting act, "Are you really okay? You know you can tell me anything."
Yn took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. She appreciated Edric's concern, but she couldn't burden him with the truth. It was too dangerous, and she didn't want to involve anyone else in this mess.
"I'm fine, really," she said, forcing a smile. "Just a little on edge today."
Edric eyed her skeptically, but he didn't push the matter further. Instead, he offered to make her a cup of coffee and told her to take a few minutes to sit down and relax before starting her shift.
As Yn sat at a small table, sipping her coffee, she couldn't shake the feeling of danger that loomed over her. She couldn't believe how much her life had changed in just a few days. She used to be a simple bunny girl in a casino with no worries other than saving money for her family and collecting money for her mother's medical treatments. But now, she found herself constantly looking behind her back in fear of a French aristocrat who had taken an unhealthy interest in her - who had taken her virginity mercilessly.
She took another sip of her coffee and closed her eyes, trying to calm her nerves. Soon enough, Yn tried to push her fears to the back of her mind and focus on her work. She greeted the regular customers with a smile and took their orders, all the while keeping an eye out for any suspicious activity.
The next thing she knew, her morning shift ended and she was free to leave the cafe. Yn's heart pounded in her chest as she boarded the bus, her mind consumed by thoughts of the Marquis and the ever-present sense of being followed. She glanced out the window, scanning the passing streets for any signs of the mysterious car or the looming figure of the Marquis. But everything appeared normal, the city bustling with its usual activity.
As the bus neared the preschool, Yn's anxiety grew. She anxiously stepped off the bus and walked briskly towards the school, her eyes darting around, searching for any indication that the Marquis was closing in on her. The weight of fear settled heavily on her shoulders, making each step feel like an eternity.
Finally, she reached the preschool and hurried inside, her heart racing with a mixture of relief and trepidation. She found Sydney among the crowd of children, her bright smile a welcome sight that momentarily eased Yn's fears.
Yn and Sydney walked hand in hand toward their apartment building, their footsteps echoing in the quiet street. The weight of the day's events lingered in Yn's mind, her senses heightened, and her instincts on high alert. She couldn't help but feel a constant prickle of unease, a nagging presence that seemed to follow her every move.
As they approached their apartment door, Yn's eyes landed on the bouquet of tuberose flowers and the square-shaped box of Ferrero Rocher chocolates placed on the floor mat. Her breath caught in her throat, a mix of curiosity and apprehension surging through her veins.
Sydney's eyes lit up with excitement, tugging on Yn's hand as she pointed at the gifts. "Yn, look! Someone left us flowers and chocolates! How sweet! Did a prince drop by?!"
Yn's heart raced, and her mind flooded with questions. Who had left these tokens of affection? Was it a kind gesture from a well-meaning neighbor, or was it another calculated move by the Marquis to unsettle her? If that's the case, then that means the Marquis knew for certain where she lived through some means. This also meant that her home was at risk. She and Sydney were at risk.
With trembling hands, Yn picked up the bouquet of tuberose flowers, their delicate fragrance enveloping her senses and making her feel... odd. The fragrance caused her pussy to throb subconsciously, but she paid no mind to it. The white blooms stood in stark contrast against the somber darkness of the hallway, their beauty tainted by the weight of uncertainty.
Besides the flowers, the golden-wrapped box of Ferrero Rocher chocolates beckoned, tempting yet foreboding. Yn's mind swirled with a mix of caution and curiosity. She couldn't help but wonder if this was a twisted message, a reminder that the Marquis had found out where she lived and that he still had power over her life.
Suppressing her unease, Yn put on a brave face for Sydney. "Yes, Syd, it seems someone has left us a surprise."
Sydney clapped her hands in delight, picking up the box of chocolates and shaking it enthusiastically, "Who is it? Maybe it's a secret admirer!"
Yn forced a smile, her mind racing with possibilities, none of them good. She knew that she couldn't take anything from this, not when the probability that the Marquis was involved was huge. The timing was too great. Her apartment door had never received gifts like this before. But she also couldn't let Sydney know how worried and alarmed she was.
"Open them, Yn! I want to eat the chocolates!" Sydney said, hugging the box of chocolates close to her body.
Once inside, Yn placed the flowers on a table and carefully opened the Ferrero Rocher box, tearing off the wrapping paper. Sydney was by her side, eyes glinting with excitement, and was eagerly awaiting her turn to devour it.
As Yn observed Sydney consuming the chocolates with no worries in her mind, her head raced with questions. Other than the Marquis, who could have left these gifts? And more importantly, what were their intentions? She was trying to look at this situation positively and try not to suspect the Marquis in everything but... If it's not him, then who?
As the hours ticked by, the apartment remained cloaked in an unsettling silence. Yn couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched, that invisible eyes were peering into her private sanctuary. Every creak of the floorboards, every gust of wind outside, sent a shiver down her spine.
As night fell and Yn prepared Sydney for bed, the weight of the situation bore heavily upon her shoulders. She tucked Sydney in, ensuring her safety and comfort, all the while knowing that she couldn't let her guard down.
Yn couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, not even as she slipped into her own bed. The darkness enveloped her, and she could hear nothing but the sound of her own breathing. She knew that she had to be vigilant, that she couldn't let her guard down even for a moment. Because if it was indeed the Marquis who was behind the gifts, then she was in grave danger.
The thought made her heart race, and she tried to calm herself by taking deep breaths. She closed her eyes and tried to picture a peaceful scene, but her mind kept going back to the Marquis and his endless games.
Suddenly, her phone beeped, causing her to jump in surprise. She picked it up from the nightstand, her heart thumping in her chest. It was a message from Emily. She opened it and paled in an instant.
[Emily: Yn, sorry to disturb you again. But I just want to tell you that tonight, the Marquis did not appear in the casino at all.]
[Emily: Just wanted to inform you.]
Yn's mind raced as she read the message from Emily. If the Marquis wasn't at the casino, then where was he? That sort of proved that he was the one behind the bouquet and chocolates, right? Or perhaps not. Maybe she was overreacting, she thought.
Those texts kept her up at night, tensing up every time she heard something out of the ordinary, or practically any noise at all. The stray dogs' barks and howls outside the apartment complex added to the eerie atmosphere, heightening Yn's unease. The sounds seemed to echo through the night, a constant reminder of the lurking danger that awaited her.
Every creak of the floorboards and gust of wind outside seemed to whisper the Marquis' name, a chilling reminder that he was watching, waiting, and planning. The sense of being trapped in a web of his making grew stronger with each passing moment.
As the night wore on, Yn's exhaustion began to take its toll. Her eyelids grew heavy, and her mind became foggy with fatigue. Yet, every time she started to drift off, a jolt of adrenaline shot through her, jarring her back to full alertness.
Hours passed, and Yn barely got any sleep that night. The first rays of sunlight peeked through the curtains, casting a pale glow in the room. Yn's body was weary, her mind overwhelmed by a mix of exhaustion and apprehension. She knew that she couldn't continue like this, on the brink of exhaustion and paranoia.
She thought she would be done with the Marquis de Gramont upon quitting the casino, but apparently, it made her remember about him even more than before. It felt like she was going to live her life like this forever - always on edge and wary of everything as she had to look over her shoulder for any trace of the Frenchman.
She could not stay like this. She had to do something, but what? She couldn't confront him or else, he would make her life a living hell using his influence, power, and resources, and possibly rape her again as a consequence for any wrongdoing he thought she had done to him. She couldn't see him again.
It was Saturday that day, so Sydney did not have any preschool this morning. Not only that, but Yn did not have any morning shifts at the cafe on weekends, so she and Sydney were completely free on weekends. Yn then decided to bring Sydney and visit their mother together at the hospital and get some information regarding her treatment and upcoming surgery.
Yn and Sydney got ready for their visit to the hospital, hoping to find solace and support in the presence of their mother. Yn dressed Sydney in her favorite outfit, ensuring she looked presentable, and chose an outfit for herself that showed her modest yet confident, despite the turmoil she felt inside.
As they made their way to the hospital, Yn's mind swirled with a mix of emotions. She longed to see her mother, to feel her reassuring touch and hear her comforting words. She yearned to not worry a single thing about the Marquis, and she had hoped that seeing her mother would give her that peace. After all, she did see her mother's hospital room as a sacred place of serenity for her.
Upon entering their mother's room, Yn and Sydney were initially relieved to see her smiling and in good spirits. However, as they took in the scene more fully, Yn's relief turned to shock and disbelief.
Their mother's laughter echoed in the room, and Yn's gaze fell upon the Marquis de Gramont, sitting by her mother's bedside. He had seemingly made a joke that had elicited her mother's laughter. The sight of the Marquis in such a familiar setting sent a wave of panic crashing through Yn's body.
Yn’s body stiffened and her gaze froze on the Marquis. The color drained from her face as a chill ran through her spine. Her mind raced with questions and worries as her heart raced too quickly to keep up with it. Her mouth felt dry and her breathing quickened, though she could not move for the fear that had taken over.
Her mother finally noticed Yn's presence and a mischievous twinkle danced in her eyes. "Ah, Yn, my dear, why didn't you tell me about your dashing boyfriend?"
It was at that moment the Marquis turned his head around, looking at Yn with a tender smile. Despite his attempt to look loving and warm, his eyes betrayed it all. They bore darkness and self-satisfaction, and they were filled with a smugness that spoke of secrets - her secrets. His gaze was piercing and steady as they gleamed with sinister energy.
It's as if he loved seeing her again yet he desired to devour her in the most filthy way again and again upon laying his eyes on her.
Yn's heart sank, her mind struggling to process the situation. How did the Marquis know about her mother in the hospital? How did he manage to infiltrate even this sacred space? How did he deceive her mother into believing that he was anything more than a dangerous man?
Sydney skipped into the room and looked up at the tall Frenchman and asked innocently, "Mom, who is this?"
Her mother replied almost proudly, "His name is the Marquis Vincent Bisset de Gramont. He is from France, and your big sister's close friend, you see."
Yn frowned in bafflement at how her mother knew his name - his full name, even. He then stole a glance at the Marquis who was somewhat smug to know that her mother had remembered his name correctly.
"Wow!" Sydney inched closer to the Marquis and pointed at his three-piece suit, "I like your clothes! You look like a prince!"
The smile on the Marquis' face widened as he grinned at the little girl and said in his thick French accent, "That is sweet of you. Thank you, little mademoiselle. Do you want chocolates?"
He fetched something out from the inside pocket of his jacket and revealed it to be a Ferrero Rocher ball. Yn's eyes widened in alarm while Sydney squealed in delight before she took it excitedly. The little girl spoke, "My favorite chocolate! Were you the one who put gifts on our door?"
The Marquis chuckled, "Yes, I did. Do you like them?"
"I love them!" effused Sydney, "I ate all of the chocolates while my sissy took care of the flowers!"
Yn's mother then laughed lightheartedly and chimed in, "Oh my, Vincent. You even gave them gifts? How nice of you, really."
Yn’s mind raced as the Marquis charmed her family members, she knew that he was playing a dangerous game. She knew that he was capable of unspeakable things, and the thought of him being so close to her mother and sister made her skin crawl. She couldn't shake the feeling that he was plotting something, and she needed to find a way to get away from her family. Her precious family.
She could tell that the Marquis was up to something sinister, but she couldn't cause a scene here. What if she exposed him to her mother and sister? Would he reveal who he was and threaten them all, putting them in grave danger because of her mouth? Maybe he already had a pistol inside his pocket. No. She would not let him point that at her family.
She had to play along and act like everything was fine.
Yn could feel the Marquis' gaze on her, and she knew that he was enjoying her discomfort. She could see the way that he watched her when no one else was looking, and she knew that he was trying to intimidate her. He stared at her longingly, like a wolf would stare at a deer.
Yn began to ponder on how to ensure the safety of her family when the Marquis spoke to her out of the blue, "Yn, you seem pale."
He rose from his seat and went to stand in front of her before he placed his open palm on her forehead, stunning Yn to silence, while her mother was wearing a restrained grin at what she thought was a cute display.
The Marquis then turned to her mother and sister and said with a fake, charming smile, "Excuse us for a moment. Yn needs some fresh air."
He took Yn's hand and led her outside of the hospital. The air was cool and crisp, a welcome relief from the stifling atmosphere inside. Yn's heart was pounding in her chest, and she was sure that the Marquis could feel it through their connected hands.
They walked through the semi-busy hallway of the hospital in silence until the Marquis was the one who broke it by saying, "You did not tell me you have a sister."
Yn yanked her hand out of his hold and she inquired with mild fury, knowing she had to keep her voice down in the middle of the hallway to not cause a scene, "What are you doing here?"
"Is it wrong to meet the family of my lover?" he countered with his heavy French accent and his usual triumphant smile.
Yn hissed, "What did you say to my mom?!"
Instead of responding to her, the Marquis said, "You never cease to amaze me, ma lapine. You quit your job at the casino after I gave you that 50k. You used that for your mother's treatment. Nice use of the compensation for your body and virginity."
"Don't say that," Yn hissed, "People will hear you."
The Marquis smirked, "Then let me find an empty room for both of us."
Without waiting for her response or consent, he grasped her hand and tugged her toward a direction.
"Where are we going?" she whispered as they entered a narrow, empty corridor.
"We need to resolve something somewhere," he said as he pushed her into a room.
The hospital room was white with brightly lit fluorescent lights that illuminated the interior. The bed was crisp and white with thin blankets and a pillow, making it look inviting. There was a small wooden table with a couple of chairs for visitors to sit on, as well as a personal bathroom equipped with a toilet, sink, and mirror.
The Marquis then pushed her against the wall and pinned her down with his body. He pressed his lips close to her ear and said with a sensual voice, "You seem to be forgetting a lot of things after I gave you that 50k. You cannot escape me, ma lapine. I will make you remember that."
Yn struggled against him and the wall and cried out, "Stop! You're not doing this to me again!"
Before she could scream more, he captured her lips with his and ravaged them with his tongue. Suddenly, she managed to break free and slap him angrily. That caused him to back off in shock and held his stinging cheek in an instant.
Yn stared at him wide-eyed, eyes blazing with rage and indignation, with slight fear, before she immediately spun around and rushed towards the door.
However, just before she could grab the doorknob, a pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist from behind and tugged her back into the room. She was thrown onto the bed and he crawled over her and pinned her down by the wrists, straddling her thrashing thighs roughly. She tried to scream, but he muffled her mouth with his.
"You think quitting your work at the casino will set you free from me," the Marquis said, his eyes ablaze with fury and dark lust, "You are mistaken. I will make you remember your duties, ma lapine."
One hour later, Sydney was lying with her mother in the latter's bed as they chattered away about the difference in their daily lives. Her mother had known all along how much time had passed, but made no mention of it, until Sydney spoke up:
"Hey, mom. Where is Yn?" the little girl looked up at her mother with wide eyes of curiosity and child-innocence.
The mother smiled warmly and brushed her daughter's hair back, "She is with her boyfriend. She's gonna be fine, Sydney. Maybe she is bringing him around the hospital."
The two of them were clueless that the man - who claimed to be Yn's boyfriend - was fucking her senseless at the moment in an unoccupied patient's room. He pinned her in the inescapable mating press as he rammed into her mercilessly. Her pussy was overfilled with the semen he had filled her to the brim previously, but he was not done yet. He drilled his cock into her cunt with unrelenting vigor - as if she was truly his cumdump.
His hard cock was completely coated with his semen and her juices, creating filthy squelching noise as he fucked her cum-filled cunt as if he was really aiming to breed her womb.
His eyes were ablaze with a dark and primal lust as he held her down, her arms pushed down to the bed as if she was chained. She was utterly at his mercy as his hips pistoned in and out of her, each thrust pushing her further and further toward the edge of pleasure and pain. The smell of sweat and sex filled the air as he fucked her with animalistic intensity.
He was grunting with each thrust, his groans of pleasure echoing off the walls as he thrust harder and faster. The sound of flesh slapping together was almost deafening in the small room as her muffled whimpers mingled with the sound, echoing off the walls around them, tarnishing the fact that the hospital was a safe haven for Yn.
PREV : Chapter 04
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Man-Sized
9/9 Peace in a Lifetime of War
Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x F!OC
Tags: Explicit content, +18 audiences only. Smut, romantic angst, fluff. An unapologetic LOVE STORY. Sexual tension, mutual pining, banter, flirting, developing relationship, strangers to lovers. Simon Riley has a dark past (partly inspired by Modern Warfare 2: Ghost comics).
CW/TW: References to PTSD, depression, past torture and abuse in later chapters.
Summary: A uni student who pole dances at a strip club to pay her rent encounters a mysterious giant of a soldier seemingly incapable of falling in love.
He didn't call, didn't text, didn't explain himself.
She wrote dozens of texts, mostly with one sentence, Where'd you go?, Could we talk this through?, I'm sorry, would you please come back, but never sent them.
But she was also being ripped apart by the feeling that this simply couldn't be happening. It couldn't end like this. There was something real here. There had to be.
Pride got in the way. He didn't deserve her begging after leaving her like that without even an explanation as to why. He cared about his job more than her, and she would no longer beg for leftovers. She would not be the girl he could come and fuck in the dark when he had the time for it.
Let's make this work.
That's the sentence she wrote the most, to reverse the last words she had said. A nervous voice inside her told her that she had driven him away. That Simon was somewhere out there thinking she didn't want him in her life. After all, she had shouted that he should go and do his job… Practically, get out of her life.
But how could a few words spoken in anger drive him away? How could he just cut her off after everything? Player or not, she had thought him a better man than this.
He still had the key. He hadn't left it on the table or mailed it to her. He might still walk through that door when she least expected it.
But days turned into weeks, and somewhere in her heart, she knew a decision had been made. Simon never half-assed anything. If he had left, he had left. End of fucking story.
After three weeks, she threw away the shower gel. It reminded her of the time she had come from the shower to a dark room filled with him. When she had teased him, and he had sent her to heaven, when they had confessed their love to each other. It stared at her from the bin until she went and took out the trash with not much else but that single men's shower gel bottle in it.
He had left one of his hoodies in her apartment, and she almost threw it into the bin too. Then she crawled inside it like a child who had lost her parents.
It smelled of him, and it was so big that half of her disappeared inside it, and she felt warm, and safe, and devastated. That hoodie and her bedroom walls twisted the knife by whispering the words Marry me, laced with an echo of his laughter. Every day she decided to throw it away and start a new life, and every night she curled inside it to cry herself to sleep.
Bolognese was ruined for her. Motörhead was ruined, bourbon was ruined; the smell of tobacco brought tears to her eyes. She walked past springtime tulips like they carried the plague itself. Even Dürer was ruined.
How could a heartless, cocky 21st-century soldier ruin the genius of a Renaissance master?
Luckily, she hadn't told anyone who she had been dating for months now. She had never asked Simon to meet her parents. She hadn't even told them she was seeing someone… Her mother had made a remark on how nice it was to see her happy when she was visiting on holidays, and she had told her she had gotten good grades this semester. In her heart, she had perhaps always known that things with Simon wouldn't last. It all seemed like a dream. A beautiful, heated, fucked up pipe dream.
It was like the very oxygen from her life was gone. She didn't have the will to masturbate; the toy she had only reminded her of the embarrassing incident where she had forgotten it on the bedside table, and he had seen it and made her blush with a laugh and a comment; "That's the competition?" Such a small, pink thing compared to Simon, and even that reminded her of him.
Her workplace was a smoking rubble after a war. The pole choreographies had the atmosphere of Swan Lake rather than anything sultry and sexy — she flicked the pole to spin mode more often, started to do leg hangs and suicide spins and unicorn splits and chose music with lyrics about betrayal and other heartbroken, forlorn wailing.
Her gaze swept the audience before she grabbed the pole. Just in case. There were hungry eyes, but none belonged to the man with a winter-over stare, sleeve tattoo, and voice burnt from scotch, smoking, and sleepless nights.
The room spun, and her heart hurt, and she wondered if Simon had found another sweet girl or if he was bleeding in the blur too. Perhaps he was taking his pleasure with the women on his team, no strings attached. Fucking those tough army girls who were everything she was not. Making them moan with slow, heavy torture.
She wanted him to hurt. And then again, she did not. She wanted him to be safe, and for the first time in her life, she prayed even though she had never believed in God.
That forgotten oversized hoodie was her temple, and she wasn't sure who she was even praying to before falling asleep inside that black cotton. But she asked for Simon to stay safe, to not do anything stupid. She even prayed for his happiness, but then the prayers turned more selfish, and she asked that he would come back to her.
Just come back to her.
Her prayers were answered sooner than she would've thought. It was a frightening invocation, because when she finally caught him as a black, massive shadow against the darkness of the club, it was clear that he was in an even worse shape than she was.
He was still big, still menacing, a powerhouse of a man, but she saw that he had lost weight, the shade under his eyes was even darker than when they had first met. He was looking at her dance like he was attending a funeral: there was no smile, no hunger, only suffering in his eyes that followed her from inside a black hood.
She wanted to jump from the stage in the middle of her show, climb onto his lap, cry all the tears still uncried, although she had done nothing but bawled every night since he had left. Sweat made the pole slick, and she closed her eyes as she spun, hoping to be somewhere else entirely so he wouldn't see the hurt in her eyes. But the lights were pointing at the stage, and her face must've been a pale mask of fear and longing, and the dance turned into the ending act of her own personal Swan Lake.
It had been almost a month, and he barged back into her life like he would barge through a door into a room full of prisoners. The game was on again, and he was the fucking worst, and the relief and longing turned into red, blazing rage.
How dare he show up here? Still without warning, without a single message, when he knew how much it meant to her. Especially after what had gone down.
When she was done, she didn't go to him; she left the stage before the applause had even died, rushed to get her things, and stormed out the back door, half fearing that she would bump into him. He wasn't there, but when she walked past the entrance to get home, there was a man smoking outside. She wouldn't shed a look his way but knew from the aura of darkness and hellfire and silent leadership that it was him. There was no sound of footsteps, but she knew he was walking behind her, could almost smell the smoke, could feel his stare on her back as she rushed down the street like she was being hunted by a ravager.
And hadn't he, in a way, promised to haunt her, dead or alive?
She cried the whole way home while being followed by his ghost – silent tears of anger and relief and sorrow, jaw trembling and hiccups tickling her throat.
When she reached her apartment, she opened the door as quickly as possible, then slammed it shut behind her.
Would he use the key and force himself in? Would he take the closed door as a sign not to trespass? She almost went to open it to let him know that this area was actually a No Man's Land, not a threshold to her personal space, much less a fortress he needed to conquer.
But he had decided to pursue her, and a clear-cut knock sent her heart up her throat.
She had a choice not to open that door. Return to her old life without this fuckery. He wouldn't use the key she had given him, he was gentleman enough not to. Or perhaps not a gentleman: he simply knew when he was not welcome and would be too proud to force a connection.
But the decision had really been made a long time ago. It was made when she asked for that drink, when she accepted his flowers, when he pushed inside her the first time. Perhaps even on the moment she first laid eyes on him.
So, without having a grain of rational thought behind it, her heart walked her to that door and opened it.
He was leaning on the frame with one hand, and the hooded head rose from a heavy hang. He looked defeated for a moment, and she realized she had taken a while to come to the door… But then he squared his shoulders and raised his chin, bounced away from the frame, and the tiniest little smile played on his lips.
A look of I win.
It was something so Simon that it burned her heart, and the love returned – as if it had ever gone anywhere – and she was so angry that she slapped him to wipe off that stupid look that told her he could drop her like a toy and then come back and pick her up again.
Her palm met his chin, and it hurt her too: to hear that slap and know he allowed it to happen.
He allowed her to slap him. Again.
He reduced her to someone who hit people, like this was some trailer park romance where physical abuse was ok.
It was his fault, not hers.
It was his fault. It was.
His head was turned to the side from the force of her palm, the eyebrows rose in muted surprise. Then he slowly turned to look at her, and couldn't hide his smile anymore. He fucking got off on this.
Which was why she slapped him again – only, this time he caught her hand and finally forced himself inside, like it was an invitation that she tried to hit him. Her other hand shot out, rather impassively, and he caught that, too.
"That's quite enough."
That gruff, dark voice was probably what she had missed the most. Or those big, brown eyes full of promise. Or all that muscle wrapping around her in a crushing hug, those lips that smashed against hers in a starved kiss.
The door slammed shut behind him as he devoured her. The moment his hands let go of hers and enveloped her into that secure embrace, she dissolved and let him crush her mouth, her ribs, her everything — her hands reached for the hood and tore it down, clutched his back, his jacket, threatening to tear the clothes apart from how much she had missed him.
Tears gathered up her throat, and her eyes burned and squeezed shut, she held the black fabric in her fists and pulled, trying to get closer even when there was not a breath of air between them. His scent brought back so many memories that she threatened to drown in the flood.
The kiss left them both breathless and huffing when he drew her against him. She felt like a hostage when he closed one heavy palm around her head and simply forced her cheek to meet his chest. He had never closed her in a hug quite like this — like he was afraid that she would disappear into thin air if he didn't hold on tightly enough.
"Sweetheart." It was a rumble in her hair, a deep vibration in the solid wall she was smashed against.
"Don't you dare," she whispered through tears, but her hands told a different story as she clung to him like a drowning person.
"Sarah…" He only squeezed her harder, so hard that she feared he would soon break bones. "Love. I'm sorry that it took so long."
Her fingers flexed, then wrapped around that jet-black cotton again. The tears disappeared in his shirt, and she was glad he always wore black; otherwise, the mascara would've made a visible mess.
He smelled so good. She inhaled him like a drug — even after the desertion, his scent meant safety and home to her.
"What the fuck happened?" She sniffed, trying not to wail like a child against that firm wall of chest. "I thought you only went for a smoke."
He stroked her hair so gently that the shirt was soon soaked from her tears.
"I thought it would be best if I left you in peace," he muttered, sounding almost guilty. Her hand twitched in the folds of the hood from the utter folly of it all. She thanked the heavens that he hadn't. She had never exactly found peace with him, but being without him was even worse.
"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," she retorted.
"Yeah. I used to be a better man. But if ya think I'm cocky… Hah, you should've seen me back then. Feared nothing."
She had expected him to share a reason for leaving her like that, but she hadn't envisioned it to start with those words. The world was quaking again in her hallway, lit by a single, lone lamp.
"It didn't work. It got people killed. Even my brother's little kid." He was still talking to the crown of her head as if exposing the darkest of secrets, fearing that the walls were wired.
"I'm not really… alive, you know? Died with them about ten years ago."
From any other man's mouth, that trace of information, an explanation for his handicaps, would've felt melodramatic. When it came from Simon, it felt like a void was yawning before her.
"Swore that day I would never let it happen again."
How could she always forget that her judgment concerning Simon was flawed – no – distorted as hell? She knew he had lost everybody but didn't know how exactly. Of course there had been violence. She had never really understood just how important it was for him to protect people from getting too close.
I didn't mean for things to go this far suddenly stood for something completely different.
He wasn't playing or toying with her. He was being absolutely, vehemently, utterly serious.
Even… intimidated.
She felt even worse about not being there for him when he had been thin with his skin. She had made it all about her when he tried to share a deep fear.
"I tried to keep my hands off you as long as I could." He hummed, a sound of a distant, pleasant memory. "You were so… fuckin' graceful. Felt like you were dancing just for me."
The tears kept flowing, the world kept quaking.
"I was," she whispered. "Even when you weren't there."
"Thought you was just teasin' me. Seemed such a tough girl." He gave her one of those short laughs, a cynical scoff that said he wasn't easily caught off balance. "'N then you turned out to be sweet as a pie. So bloody sweet. Swept me right off my feet."
She pulled back a little and saw that his eyes were liquid too, the pale lashes fluttered over bloodshot, melted chocolate, but no tears came out. It was like he didn't quite know how to cry, like that skill had been tortured out of him, never to return.
"Nothing lasts. Especially if it's something good and pure." He ran a thumb over her cheek, catching a tear, like he was soothed by seeing someone crying the tears he could not. "Really wanted this to last."
Her lower lip trembled at that, and she had to fight back a whole bawl that threatened to erupt. He was stupidly eloquent when he wanted to. But he was also blind if he couldn't see that no one else but him had tried to end things this time. How could a man so mature and smart be so stupid?
"You're the one who walked out the door, Simon."
He blinked a few times. Yeah… He was that stupid, even if he was sharp and trained and brave. But it was also stupid of her to think there wouldn't be problems. He had built a wall, five-foot thick, since childhood. She had tried to penetrate it with a needle and had had a fit when it wouldn't budge.
"Look... You can't just come into my life and fuck around and fuck with my head — and fuck me… and then leave and say Darling, it's dangerous."
He huffed a laugh at her imitation of him. "You make me sound like a jerk."
"That's because you are."
A sigh. "Right."
She had expected him to return the quip, make some clever comeback, but their love had been on ice for weeks and weeks. Even if the warmth was there, and he was close, so close… Something was still wrong.
She pulled herself back to the solace of his chest. There were broken things inside, and she was a brittle vase herself, barely able to hold all the sorrow in.
"Why do you always have to be so dramatic?"
"Comes with the job."
"I hate your job," she mumbled in his shirt, and he chuckled humourlessly.
"Me too."
"No you don't. You love it." She sent another accusation in the air, and the penalty was an open prison, a slackening muscle around her.
"Guilty as charged."
"Why are you here, Simon?"
There was a pause, one, two breaths…
"Can't fuckin' live without you."
He had no doubt tried, tried to veritably leave her from fear of setting her in danger. Only Simon could leave a woman for fear of losing them…
"Even if I only get scraps and slaps. Phone's full of look at me's but you never call."
Her eyes flared wide open, her lungs ceased working for a second. Five months flashed backward, then forward, their shared moments twisting and turning, words finding new meanings.
Scraps…
You never call.
Jesus Christ.
It was bitter, and it was true. She had guarded her heart like a prisoner of war during a time of peace. Sent him thirsty selfies like they were the only thing he wanted from her, refused to call in fear of losing some game.
He wasn't the only one who was proud and dramatic. She had had a whole month in her hands. She could've called him, sent him those texts. She could've made it known that she hadn't meant her last words as a command for him to get out. But she had done none of those things. Instead, she slammed the door in his face and slapped him when he finally came back with his tail between his legs.
It was never about his job. She could deal with that. It was about the game.
They were both boneheaded, proud little creatures, and she realized she was the one who had been playing, playing for far too long…
"You said you'd rather call me," she whimpered, voice barely even a whisper.
He pulled her away by the shoulders and took a quick scan. There was patronization and pity, and she wondered whether he would take the blame for her failings too. But the pain was more profound than that.
"Sarah. Do ya even like me?"
Of all the things said that night, said ever, that was probably what hurt her the most.
"Yes," was all she managed to say to the man who was, in truth, the love of her life.
"Alright. Then I don't see what the problem is."
He was being reasonable, but there seemed to be a whole other problem she had never acknowledged. Had never even known existed.
And it was a rare, rare thing, that he chose to break first.
"Sarah, bloody fucking-... It kills me to imagine you with someone else."
All in.
As if she could ever find a man like him. As if she could even see other men. They had ceased to exist five months ago.
Just say it.
"I don't want someone else," she said, knowing that games like these should be illegal. But she was not playing anymore. "I only want you. Remember?"
The wall cracked, crumbled a little, exposed some softness in those chocolate eyes.
"Now that's what I like to hear."
Annoying, lovable, cocky bastard. This time, it was her turn to pull him in for a kiss.
He let her take some of his clothes off but then seized the reins from her again by hauling her to the bedroom like a doll. Everything happened right according to a script: she was undressed, tossed on the bed, and he was climbing on top of her before she could even say his name.
He just wouldn't allow her to touch him. She had given him one and a half blowjobs, one handjob, and slapped him two times. They cuddled every now and then. That was basically it.
He was always on top, had fucked her against this and that wall, fucked her with his clothes on half the time. He initiated everything, made her feel good, and so, so subtly prevented her from touching him. Did he even know he was doing it, or was it subconscious?
This would have to change.
Past torture or not, it would change now.
"Simon," she placed a hand on his chest when he was already inserting himself inside her.
"Hm?"
"Can I be on top?"
Something akin to worry flickered in his eyes, but it was only a brief glitch that soon changed into an intrigued look.
"Why not," he tried to hide the remnants of his bafflement, then crashed to the bed beside her. She flicked the table light on as if making it clear that this was the dawn of a new era. He gave it a hasty side eye, then turned his attention back to her.
"Have you ever heard of Adam's first wife?" She asked when she climbed on top of him. God, but he was wide, even though men were supposed to have narrower hips. Simon was a man in his prime, threatening, even when lying under her in a seemingly vulnerable position.
"You givin' me a history lesson too?"
"She was banished from Eden because she wanted to be on top during sex." She tried to seek support from his chest, knowing it would be of minimal help. If he would get too enthusiastic, she might be bucked off.
"I won't be so cruel," he said with a soft smile as he ran hands over her thighs, then up to her waist, hesitantly. Simon never hesitated.
From what she understood, he was far from a footsoldier. The people he killed never even heard he was coming for them with a thick, ugly blade. Perhaps he preferred to fuck like that, too: stealthy and intimate, in the darkness, keep his victim in a sturdy embrace so he could feel how they bled to death.
That light was a threat. Her stare was piercing awareness: also, a threat.
And it was only now, from this position, that she finally caught the wounds. Fresh, ugly holes that should've probably been under bandage still.
"What's this?"
There were not one, but two cavities surrounded by discolored skin, bruised dark purple, virtually black — gunshot wounds that had barely missed his liver. Had the bullets reached the internals, they would've likely been the end of him.
"That's the reason why it took so long."
Shallow breathing was a stupid response from a body already feeling faint. But the next few breaths were just that: an attempt to sustain the flow of oxygen and allow reality to sink in.
The last time Simon had gotten hit was years and years ago: a bullet to the arm, not nearly as severe as an abdominal wound. She thought they used bullet vests at work. Unless he had chosen not to wear it. Her brain was a horrid thing, pushing a clinical sentence out of a psychology journal to her mind.
"The root cause of self-destructive behavior can stem from a mental health condition such as depression: overwhelming sadness and loss of interest."
She had drowned herself in self-pity in her cozy little apartment and taken revenge on a shower gel bottle while Simon had gotten himself wounded, nearly killed. Probably spent the last few weeks in a hospital after the operation in whatever medical facility he had been brought to from the field. Without telling her, stubborn and proud as he was. Lying there, with no visitors, thinking it was better to leave her alone…
She knew he had a death wish, but this… This crushed her soul.
"Soap said I should ask you to marry me instead of trying to prove something by killin' myself."
Shit…
More edgy, dark humour — but her insides shuddered.
The axis of melancholia turned and turned. She hadn't told anyone about them, but Simon had. So that someone could deliver the message if need be. Even the thought of a Scottish jarhead appearing at her door and telling her how Lieutenant Simon Riley had been killed in action made her eyes sting.
Soap was a clever man. Much more intelligent than the one between her thighs.
"What am I to do with you," she whispered while placing the lightest, faintest touch on the stretched skin around the injury. The muscles rippled underneath her fingertips, and a soft hiss drew her attention back to his face, but the discomfort was hidden from view before she could decide whether it was caused by her words or her touch.
"A few ideas come to mind," he spoke with his everlasting cheek, even when healing from both gunshot wounds and a broken heart. "Wanna hear?"
"How about you shut your mouth for a change," she offered, gently enough to make it clear that some things should be fixed with another kind of communication.
When she reached to guide him inside her, he was uncommonly solemn. The dry spell had ended at the door already, but that drowsy, flaming rust of a stare caused the cup to overflow. She was slippery as hell, but he was patient, mostly having a ball watching how she went through trial and error to get him in. The intimacy made her flustered, and that stern expression soon turned into a smug one as she fucked up guiding him in smoothly and with finesse.
And it was wishful thinking that Simon would keep his mouth shut.
"Ya need help with that?"
"Shush," she said, knowing it was futile, a laugh bubbling in her chest as she tried to sound convincing with the command. As if she could order someone like Simon around.
He broke again when the thick of him finally pushed in, slow and steady like a reverie.
"Always so fuckin' tight 'n wet for me…"
"You can't just shut it for one minute, can you," she breathed while gliding down the cock that spread her wide — and God, she had longed for that familiar invasion.
"Not with you, sweetheart."
She had barely even started when she saw how his throat worked, then felt him tighten the grip on her waist.
"Did ya have others while I was away?"
"Don't be ridiculous."
The muscles on his jaw tensed, then unwound with a sigh, the heavy-lidded eyes making him look like a man about to pass out.
"Neither did I. Seat's already taken."
The jesting, his laugh, their togetherness — she had missed it so much that it physically hurt.
But at the same time, it felt like they were meeting for the first time. This time with more than just their clothes off. Everything was…amplified, and not just because the lights were on. This was not a lazy Sunday morning fuck under the sheets.
She had been squashed against his chest, but she had never traced the muscles with the tips of her fingers, watched how his nipples grew hard at the contact. She had never quite seen how his jaw clenched, how his abs pulled taut just from a slow roll of her hips. Her hands looked tiny, dainty, when they swept over him – a man made weapon – all corded muscle and uneven skin, tone changing with the map of old and new scars, fresh scratches here and there, ill-healed burn marks and whatnot coating a skin that had seen more than just rough weather. He didn't treat his body like a living, breathing thing; it was simply a tool.
Her past boyfriends had been just that. Boys compared to him. It wasn't just his size, that he was older than her. It wasn't even the map of scars spread over muscles built to withstand and wage war. It was just something so inherently him, a maturity, ripe survival, toughness that came from another age entirely.
She tried to be worthy of him, make love to him in return for all the favors he had so generously given her.
He appeared to enjoy it with the most laid-back attitude she had yet seen on him. She had prepared for intensity, as always, a bit of devilry, but not for that daydreamy stare. That absorbed, blissful look could only be compared to someone easing down on a divan, waiting to be served wine and grapes like they were some Roman deity. Or, in his case, on a lush sofa, waiting for his girl to bring him a scotch after a long day. Maybe take his boots off, and his pants too, kneel and take him in a warm, wet mouth…
God, she was fantasizing about blowing Simon while riding him. But she'd be damned if she didn't serve him that back rub with a happy ending as soon as she had ridden him to the finish line.
"Should do this more often," he noted evenly, echoing her thoughts – and trying to grasp some sliver of control by telling her he liked this. Liked being served.
"Enjoying yourself?"
"Can't complain."
And she realized now that she wasn't the one in charge, no. He was looking at her much in the same way as he did when she was up on that stage. Only, he was now both the stage and the pole… and the audience.
Fuck.
Every time she tried to get in control, he did that rear choke on her. Even this turned out to be another counter technique. He was simply enjoying her take her pleasure.
The notion didn't cause fires anymore, other than a flare of licking heat down to where they were joined. Her inner walls had decided that he was a keeper too, gripping him so violently that the tendons on his neck became visible. The callous of his hands traveled upwards to her ribs, and she caught a thought of how he could easily crush her if he wanted to — but he only proceeded to hug her waist with an iron grip to join in the show.
"Keep doin' that and there's gonna be a real mess," he said, voice thick, sending more heat trickle down her spine.
"Isn't that always the case with you?" She was on the brink of laughter now, because it felt stupid that it had taken her so long to enjoy this man to the full.
"Yeah… But you love it. Admit it." He wasn't bulldozing now. Just enticing, eyes glimmering from seeing her so evidently happy.
And she did admit it. She didn't hold back at all. She allowed him to see exactly how much she wanted and admired him, how good he made her feel.
The account started as a steaming, almost pissed-off checklist, a confession rather than a declaration of love. It contained pent-up love and hate, from how he fucked her in the dark to how he drove knives to a wall she didn't even own. But then it turned into a hymn. Nevermind ego; she wanted to stroke his heart and soul. He fucking deserved it.
She told him he was a good man, the best man she had ever known. How she had never loved anyone like this. How she was his, had been from the moment he came to that club. She even told him how big he was and how she had trouble concentrating in class because of it. That she had trouble focusing pretty much anywhere.
How she had cried herself to sleep in his sweatshirt every night after he had left… How she wanted him to never leave again — how she wanted to solve every argument they would have from now on with a hatefuck instead.
At first, he looked at her curiously, probably thinking she was joking. Then his expression turned to a choked-up stun.
“Sarah– Fuckin’ hell…"
Every secret thought from the past five months was laid out before them; every little thing she admired about him from body to soul.
It seemed to be a shock treatment, a little too much all at once, but he was true to his word and didn't complain.
"You're gonna make a grown man cry 'ere."
He didn't cry, but if there was still some invisible wall between them, every last brick was blown apart at this point.
The poker game was finally over, the whole table was cleared of cards and chips and bets.
"Do you even like me… Unbelievable, Simon," she said as a final notion. There was a soft smile, but it wasn't arrogant or vain in her eyes anymore. Just proud, pleased.
God, had she been stupid.
She descended to celebrate, to seal it all with a kiss. He welcomed her with fast allegiance: arms went around her as soon as her breasts pressed against his chest. It was all hunger, but ten times more tender than the starvation at the door. Slow, deliberate, and it went straight to her cunt, gripping him — and of course he responded with a groan, straight into her mouth.
His hips jerked up to meet her, and had she not been in the safe custody of freakishly strong arms, she would've fallen off her ride. And it was high time to investigate whether he had a vulnerable spot in his neck as well.
A sluggish, flat-tongued lick up the column of his throat and some open-mouthed, sloppy kisses sent him contracting from the middle, pushing in, balls deep. She risked a nib, even a soft bite, and eventually, went a bit feral on that neck. It was another jackpot for the both of them.
"I need-.. need you on your back," he had never stuttered like that, out of breath, trying to be polite with a raspy throat. But he wasn't really asking, and it wasn't really mannerly. It was actually a demand.
"Wanna fuck you hard," his voice was so low that it was almost a growl.
Yes.
Yes. Yes, please.
And she knew just the trick that would ensure that he did.
"Hmh. Denied," she said to his neck, and waited for the punishment that was brief and thorough.
"The hell it is."
He rolled over and switched their roles without even pulling out, and just like that, her feeble attempts to be the rebellious first woman turned to dust. But she didn't really mourn the loss. Her Eden resided right here.
"You're such an asshole," she was laughing from mirth and love and the joy of being pressed under that safe weight again.
"Would like to fuck that too someday."
Oh my God..-
She wasn't a blushing lady from Victorian times, but this was a little unexpected, even from him.
"Bet you're even tighter down there… I might just pass out."
Her jaw must've fallen an inch or two, her eyes no doubt shot full of shimmering glee because nothing, absolutely nothing escaped him, and her face was now more than that of a stupefied goldfish.
"I suggest you close that pretty mouth before I-"
She cut him short by sinking nails in his skin — more precisely, his ass. He arched his back with the following thrust, even exposed his throat with a satisfied grunt.
"Lil' wildcat… I could do this all night." It was a pleased chuckle, and her heart hurt — she was constantly calling him annoying, an asshole, a jerk, and he told her she was beautiful, sweet, his girl, or a little wildcat in return…
"Would ya like that?"
She could only nod, time and again, and the sex turned messy, noisy and unhinged, weeks and weeks of frustration and longing dissipating with fucking that spread her thighs wide and made the whole bed wail. Her head hit the frame once or twice before he moved her with an annoyed grunt while she was having a laugh about it, but then she remembered he was injured and that this was a bad idea.
"Your wounds-" she tried to stutter amidst a pounding that had certainly been held back for longer than five months, not to talk of a few weeks.
"I'll live."
She was close, but so was he, and it seemed it was the most difficult decision he had ever made: to choose whether to slow down and grit his teeth or just give into the temptation and spill. A split second, and he chose the latter, and she must've been gawking: all that muscle towering over her went tense, the halved slant between his pecs sheened with sweat.
He came with a long groan and a head rolled back, the tension leaving him in shivers before his head fell back down, chin to the chest. The stare behind those heavy lids was unfocused, heady, drugged.
"Fuck, you're a glorious sight," he said while sweeping a hand over her sternum and closing the giant palm around her throat — nothing brutal or rough, just a little bit of fun that probably shouldn't have made her tighten around him as furiously as it did. It felt like she was one of his victims, held in place by one hand only, as his gaze dropped down to marvel at how his cock disappeared in her and came out all wet. The thrusts were erratic and desperate, the ending throes of ecstasy — must've been a glorious sight indeed.
He wouldn't even pause to enjoy the trip back to earth to the full. He left her, eyes both determined and drunk, cock still half hard, so abruptly that a sad little whimper fled her. But he wasn't gone for long, just settled next to her and gathered her in his arms, wracked with purpose.
She gasped when not one, but two fingers dipped inside, then drove deep to the knuckle.
"Fuck…"
"Will do."
It was a scant substitute for his cock, even with two thick fingers. But he was good, so damn good that it didn't matter.
He did everything right, perfect, precise. Made a mess of the cum that joined the wreckage, played with it, slathered it all over her until she was sticky and wet and the noise was well-nigh filthy.
But even more unbearable was the intimacy, the way her hand found him, the bunching muscles on the forearm, the thumb brushing her clit, his fingers curling in a loose fist while two of them curled inside her…
She wanted to participate, feel the fierce connection that had gained a whole new level. There was a sense of belonging, merging — did he feel it too?
Yeah, he definitely did.
Their gazes were locked, but the depth in his eyes wasn't hunger or will to dominate or even meant for fishing cues, it was pure surrender, actually, it was… love.
"Please," she whispered while he made love to her with both his hand and those eyes, not knowing why she even said that. But he had told her he loved it when she begged, so that's what she did. She would give him every fucking thing he wanted.
The sweltering bronze of his eyes broke a little, his brow gave a minimal tug.
"Simon - Please," the words were a mouthed prayer rather than an audible whisper, and she knew her own gaze was fractured because the warmth in his eyes only spread.
"I got ya," he crushed her in a devout hug while spreading her open, breathed into her ear, all joking gone. It was a solemn pledge, a guarantee.
"Promise I got ya."
This wasn't affection anymore; it was bonding.
She came with a strained whimper in his neck, curled into the hug with thighs trembling and hands grabbing whatever she could: a sheet, a tight muscle. He was an absolute genius for not moving, just stayed inside as her muscles sucked him in with a long, hungry pull that turned into a shudder that went through her whole body.
"Uh, fuh-…" She was cursing, sobbing, coming apart by the seams, and he took it all in, breathing high and wide from witnessing what he was doing to her.
It was a slow and tense shattering but turned messier after: into sloppy writhing and moaning, and he moved gracefully to ride it out with her. An absolute ace at what he did.
He might've said something, cheering her on with That's it or Fuckin' beautiful or something like that. She couldn't hear it, and it didn't really matter anyway. The looting was sweet, and he was the perfect fit, so fulfilling, still inside her after the waves had passed. They were breathing into each other, holding the space, sustaining the present moment just by being entangled together, all limbs and breath and sweat on sweat. When he ultimately pulled out, the hand joined the one wrapped around her, holding her like the most precious thing in the universe.
Her depression was gone, the man supporting her being a better cure for her condition than any kind of antidepressant ever invented by Western medical professionals could ever be. There was no fear, only a terrible will to live, a hunger for love and life.
It felt too lame a thing to say: I love you, in that kind of a moment. But something needed to be said. It wanted to come out like a wild thing from a cage.
"You brought me back to life," she whispered to the pulse on his neck, tasting both their salt, feeling like crying again, but this time for a different reason. "When we met. And every day after."
He was calm and still, frozen in time, but she could feel his heart thundering underneath that chest. Fast and overwhelmed.
"You're good at so much more than just killing people. I hope you know that."
The world could use another flood, but he chose to be the floodgate, chose to fight back mass destruction and death and darkness while looking like it. A hero, if there ever was one.
Simon didn't just take lives. He saved them.
"You saved my life, Simon." She stirred a little to look at him, wholly stripped of all his masks.
"There.. Finally shut you up."
He swallowed, and a steady hand brushed the nape of her neck, dissolving the tension if there still was any left.
"Yeah."
The soft silence covered them like a blanket until he bore even deeper.
"I'm glad you could finally join us."
And she realized he was talking about the Game. Their game. The poker game.
She had been a player while he had been here all along with palms facing upwards, with no cards at all. Just waiting for her to catch on.
"Yeah. I'm here."
"'Atta girl."
The kiss was gentle and slow. He grunted in her mouth, and when she withdrew to look at what was wrong, he opened and closed his jaw, then rubbed the side of his chin that had begun to swell a little.
"You hit hard for a historian."
Oh God.
She felt bad, but not bad enough to suppress a chortle.
"Remarkably hard for a woman. Almost dislocated a jaw," he continued when he saw she was laughing at the whole situation.
"I hope it swells real bad," she chuckled. He cast her a look that said So much for sweetness.
"You're ruthless."
"Do you need ice?"
"A kiss'll do."
She didn't deny him that kiss. She wasn't that ruthless. But after that soft peck, she turned to whisper in his ear.
"You deserved it."
He scoffed lightly, gave her a squeeze. It was the middle of the night, but it felt like the midsummer sun was shining.
"You deserve the best."
"And you're the best?" She asked, while they both already knew he was.
"I try to be."
That was probably the most humble thing she had ever heard him say, but then again, when had his arrogance ever been ego? He had always delivered. He was a soldier, but he was not a killer. He was a protector.
But if he would protect her by leaving her in peace, she would start a war of her own.
"Then don't leave me."
"Never."
Her heart skipped a beat, then fluttered flush against her ribs like an overjoyed bird.
"Is that a promise?"
She caught a smile, cocky, but only because he knew he was the best man for the job. He was best at what he did, and it had nothing to do with games.
"It's a vow."
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