Finding Lily

CHAPTER 3

Heart of Glass

No. And yes, Dorian. Yes, please.

He kissed just below my ear, trailed his lips lower, but stopped at my shoulder, waiting. There was a tenderness about him which seemed out of character, and I begged myself not to over-think the moment.

For once.

Just be here. Can you just be here, Lily?

‘See?’ Dorian licked his wet fingers, sighed, then circled my clit again.

And, of course, he stopped.

Because that’s how he rolls.

Rolled.

Out of nowhere, my MIA best frenemy Gwen’s words came back to me, echoing in my memory.

Go find your playroom, Lily. Go have your fantasy.

Ah.

Suddenly, instead of the magical bowl of fantasy Dorian had created, I was only a nude girl standing in a room of metallic, angry gym equipment, pink flesh exaggerated by a bunch of mirrored tiles. Naked as a plucked jaybird, with some hotshot billionaire breathing everything I wanted to hear through layers of my hair.

A ripple of fear waved through me, and that part of me wanted to go back to the safe, predictable place I was in before he began taking me to this amazing elsewhere. But Dorian Holder had smashed my dream of what ‘safety’ might be, without a second thought.

There was no second thought now, because Dorian Holder already pictured it, me, us in this room. He had chosen to put me there, as though I were a creature who appeared for his amusement. Hoping to see begging, and maybe some tears. Us, shining back at him, in a thousand different places. Dorian knew what he could do to me from the get-go, how he would make my body awaken, make me freeze, make me die, then awaken me again.

Reflecting now, I want to give him a hearty handshake. Good job, Mr Holder. I am more or less dead and frozen. But I’m still hoping desperately to wake up and love again, to shake him off me. Smarter, next time. I will wake up.

But that wasn’t the time. It was time for me to get fucked, hard.

‘Keep going,’ I said, staring at the two of us. ‘Please, Dorian.’

‘Wait for it,’ he growled, releasing me. ‘I love, no enjoy, you much better when you’re waiting. When you’re hurting, aching. When you beg me to do what I cannot wait to do to you.’

‘Enough.’ I shook my head. ‘Just, please—’

‘If it makes you feel any better, Lily, I’m fighting even harder than you.’

‘Liar,’ I whispered.

‘Liar? I want that wet cunt so much right now it hurts. While I may be owning you at the moment? Ultimately, you have imprisoned me. And I love – I mean, I like that about you. At the same time, I hate it about you. Why won’t you ever tell me to stop? I will keep pushing. You’ll reach your limit, some time. And you will break harder than you could imagine. And I will watch it happen, and hate myself, and …’ He halted.

I remained frozen, my eyes watering.

‘Why?’ I whispered.

‘You know the answer by now, Lily.’

‘My answer scares me.’

‘So breathe slowly, Lily Dewitt. Deep breaths. I’m going to walk you to the barre, and you’re going to hang on to it until I allow you to let go. Then, with your permission, I’m going to hold you captive here, and have my way with you as we both intended. Isn’t that what you wish?’

No idea.

But yes, I wished for nothing more. At the time.

‘Permission granted, Mr Holder.’

‘I beg you to make me wait, Mr Holder,’ he corrected me. ‘Ms Dewitt, please remind me what you want, the way you know I want to hear it.’

‘I beg you to make me wait,’ I repeated, entranced.

‘When you come back to fuck me, Mr Holder, I will be crying because I want your cock so badly.’ Dorian pulled his hand away and smacked me hard on the ass. ‘Is that what you mean to say?’

‘When you come back and fuck me, sir, I’ll cry how bad I want that cock shoved deep in my pussy,’ I babbled, since the renewed aching in my clit, and the wetness already beginning to trickle down my thighs, made his words sound so very far away.

‘Close enough. Lovely, in fact. I’m going to go shower up and start jerking off, picturing you out here, writhing and squirming. Maybe I’ll go ahead and come myself, leaving you alone to suffer as long as I like. Or maybe, just maybe, I’ll come back and ravish you like you deserve.’ He tugged my hair. ‘Do you hear me, do you understand, and is this what you want?’

‘Understood.’ I coughed as he yanked my hair harder. ‘I hear.’

‘And?’ He bit my earlobe, hard enough that I yelped.

‘I want.’ I winced. ‘Yes, please, Mr Holder.’

When he pinched my nipples again, I yelped, my head turned, and my reverie was broken further. Because it was then that I saw the shattered panel. One of the mirrors was smashed, shattered, spread, resembling a giant spiderweb.

Dorian followed my gaze, and frowned. ‘Oh, that.’

Breaking all the unspoken rules, I pulled away, ran my fingers through my hair and watched the reflection of his face, a tragic mosaic of a broken man.

‘What happened, Dorian?’

He shoved me away, walked over to the mirror and looked at the silvery shattered glass in disgust. ‘I got angry the other night.’

‘At me? When I sent you away?’ Goosebumps cropped up on my arms. If he did this to the wall when he was having a rough night, what would he have done to me if I had been there?

‘There was far more to it than that. No, Lily. It wasn’t you at all.’ He looked askance. ‘Sometimes … I just have a very bad temper.’

When I was silent, he prompted, ‘Go ahead, say something.’

‘And so then you take it out on me? When we fuck.’ My voice was flat.

‘God, no, Lily. You are where I find my peace of mind, my centre. My version of normal. And I hope you find that in me, because if not …’ He reached forward toward his fragmented image, then drew his hand back. ‘I take it out on myself, Lily. Then my business minions, then my sycophants, and then the rest of as much of the world as I can fucking touch, my stupid—’

‘I understand,’ I said. Interrupting him was not my M.O., but it seemed like the kind thing to do. Plus, I wasn’t ready to hear anything more. If Dorian showed me further vulnerability, any weakness? Whatever we were could come to an end, since feeling in control and powerful was, I believed, the glue holding us together. I couldn’t risk that happening. I wouldn’t let it.

Not yet.

‘So just fucking run, Lily.’ He looked at me, and I prayed that my poker-face was on. But I never played poker, not once in my life.

‘Dorian—’

‘Go downstairs, Lily, to your little apartment, and play house. Go dance around like it means something. Go – just go.’ He was shaking. ‘And if you ever want to see me again, you’ll leave. Now.’

I want to see you cry. I want to see you beg. His words from the other night echoed in my ears, and I began to understand. For a moment, I considered doing what my master told me, but no. Because, right now, he was no longer my master. He was just a man, a damaged, beautiful man; surrounded by everything, owning anything, but left with nothing.

Except for me, Lily Dewitt.

For now, I could be his Goddess, and I would call the shots. While I honoured Dorian’s pain, while the sweeter part of me ached to comfort him, he had given me the same heartbreak, and I knew damn well he would do it again. And again, and again. Once he mentioned that he was open to losing control, and letting himself be dominated.

Maybe I should have obeyed orders and run. Perhaps I could have been kinder to Dorian, when he needed me to either be his lover or leave. If I had chosen to follow my heart, I’d have run to him, embraced him, kissed him, told him Mr Holder, go to bed. Let’s just lie down and hurt together.

Which, in my unexpected five seconds of clarity, I did not.

Instead, I walked over to him, reached up and stroked his cheek. He started, surprised at my audacity. Cupping his chin, I turned his head so he was forced to look into my eyes.

‘Make me,’ I said.

CHAPTER 4

The Weighting Game

‘As you wish.’ He turned from the sparkling mosaic of himself, reached into a large velvet bag on the floor, pulled out my handcuffs from the other night, two bungee cords and two carabiners. The bag still bulged with mysterious items, but I knew better than to ask what was inside.

‘Where’d you get all this stuff?’

‘More samples from those companies who heard about troubles at poor Apollyon. And other assorted items, which I may or may not share with you. How do you feel, Lily?’ He wandered around the room, the machinery, the dangling ropes, metal tubes, weights, kicked at an exercise ball, and laughed mirthlessly. ‘Name your poison.’

‘I can’t quite—’

‘You liked the climbing wall, didn’t you, you dirty little thing. Oh, that yoga swing? Pushing the antigravity effect, perfect, while the prices are still up and people are buying. Your idea, and a good one. Expect to be fucked fifty different ways, forwards, backwards, sideways, and upside-down. You’ll be mine.’ He grabbed a fistful of the red swing’s cloth, and spun it. ‘Are you in?’

‘Yes, Mr Holder.’

‘Lovely.’ Dorian strode closer to the mirror, while I continued to squeeze the bar, and he gripped my bicep. ‘Does this hurt?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Good. You see that scared, hurting girl? Does she want her man to remind her who owns this space?’

I stared at my worried face, nodding, but ‘Does she want her man’ echoed in my head. Her man? Had to be a slip-up. He must’ve meant, ‘Does she want her master . . .’

‘Good.’ Without further ado, Dorian shackled me to the bar. ‘Kneel, bitch.’

Master it was.

I dropped to my knees, while Dorian grasped two fifty-pound dumbbells as though they weighed nothing. With a few deft moves he placed them on the floor and strapped them to my ankles, using the bungee cords as bindings, and the metal carabiners to keep me from escaping.

Like I would have tried.

‘Can you move, Lily?’

I shook my head.

‘Didn’t hear that. Can you move, Lily?’

‘No, Mr Holder.’

‘Perfect.’ Dorian Holder stepped back, taking in the vision of me, weighted and frozen in place. ‘Stay. Don’t move a muscle.’

‘I can’t. I mean, I won’t.’

‘Excellent. Promise to wait.’

‘Do I have a choice, Mr Holder?’

‘No,’ he replied, and stepped back, admiring the spectacle he created. ‘At this point in our relationship, Lily, I’d say you have no choice about anything whatsoever. But if it makes you feel any better, neither do I.’

I was silent.

Dorian let out a breath. ‘Here’s another moment where you can say “Mercy”, if that’s what you need to do.’

‘Here’s another moment where I don’t say anything, Mr Holder.’ My voice sounded far away. ‘This is another moment where I do as my Master says, and thank him when he’s through with me.’

There was a pause.

‘That is exactly what Mr Holder likes to hear.’ Our eyes met in the mirror again, and he raised his left brow.

‘Aiming to please you always, Mr Holder.’ Though I meant for sarcasm to enter my tone, there was none. I did want to please him.

And to please myself.

And it seemed that both things were possible, and that we should at least try. And yet something was dreadfully wrong here, wronger than the wrongness of the whole situation to which we had committed, though neither of us understood this at the time.

We thought all along that we had been talking things through. It always goes that way, I guess.

Come to find out we were both wrong.

And right, in some ways. Perfect moments were just that.

Perfect.

Moments.

So when Dorian turned to leave the room, I cried out, ‘Are you really leaving me here?’

‘Oh, Lily.’ He stopped in his tracks, and looked over his shoulder, stone-faced yet again. ‘You should know by now that our games have only just begun.’

So I closed my eyes and began my yoga breathing. I wriggled my wrists and tried to move my ankles, but Dorian had effectively immobilised me. My only choice was complete surrender. If I wanted, I could yell ‘Mercy’ at the top of my lungs, and my Master would have to come running to my aid, according to our agreement. But I’ve never been one to give up easily. And I was beyond curious to see just how he would take me this time. So there I was, on my knees, shackled and bound.

But what if he didn’t come running? I wondered. Should I test him? What if he couldn’t hear me shouting over the sounds of the shower? What if he never came back? Suppose he left me here and did not return?

I did not know Dorian Holder after all. We had had a turbulent, erotic week of mind games, sex games and thrilling power struggles. Did I ever come out on top? Other than that time in the hot tub, I mean. Even then, he shaved me, regained control.

Or so you think. Glancing over at the shattered mirror panel, I wondered just how much in control of himself he was. Was his domination of me truly a land of escape, of make-believe, of bonding over binding? Or was he deep-down dangerous?

You’re the one in control, Lily. You’re stronger than you think. You can stop at any time.

But wasn’t that the mantra of an addict?

Empty your mind, I reminded myself. Or go back to a memory, lose yourself in history, recall how and why there’s nothing more exciting than this journey I had taken many times before with lesser men.

But now my heart had gone and gotten involved with Dorian as well. What about him? Beyond his not-so-humble request to have me as his ready, willing servant, after he went back to his everyday life of … whatever his real life was.

Face it, Lily. You don’t even know him. How can you love what you don’t know?

I thought about God, in Whom I still believed, despite utter lack of evidence. Just because we can’t see something, that doesn’t mean it’s not there. Dorian had a heart, and somewhere along his own journey it had been broken. By whom? By what?

The silvery slivers of glass on the floor by the cracked mirror caught my eye. Glittered like diamonds in the rough.

Then there was music. ‘Playground Love’.

Try not to overthink it, Lily. It’s just Air.

CHAPTER 5

The Iron Horse

A loud slam of the door broke my reverie. Dorian had returned sooner than I’d expected. He wore the same loose, black drawstring trousers he’d had on the other night at the hotel, and I wish to God it hadn’t occurred to me that they were total sexy yogi-ninja-man-pants, because it’s hard to take your Master seriously when you wonder if he secretly has a collection of nunchucks or ninja stars stashed somewhere.

‘Something funny?’ His voice was cold. ‘Wipe that smirk off your face, or I’ll wipe it off for you.’

‘No, sir.’

‘Very good.’ He crouched down, reached into the bag and pulled out a flogger.

Ruh-roh, Shaggy. Braided lashes. I’d only been disciplined with flat.

‘If I see you smile one more time until I tell you so, you’ll be a very sorry girl. Are we clear?’

‘Crystal.’

With a slow and steady touch, he brushed the long, stiff leather lashes against the length of my back, as I shivered from anticipation and the chilliness of the air.

‘How are you?’ he whispered, and I was surprised by the compassion in his voice, not to mention the fact that he asked me at all.

‘Scared, Mr Holder.’

‘You should be,’ he said. ‘You’ve done this before?’

‘Not with such a scary-looking piece.’

‘Relax as much as you can, Lily. My aim is true.’ Mr Holder continued waking the skin of my back with soft steadiness, then stood, ever-so-regal. A king in his palace of pain, firmly gripping the handle in one hand and clutching the lashes in his other. He studied my back, looking detached, mapping out the landscape. ‘Are you ready?’

‘Sort of.’ I took a deep breath.

‘Hold your breath like that, Ms Dewitt, and this’ll hurt a lot worse.’ He leaned over and stroked my skin with a steady palm. ‘You’ll feel it here. And here. And here. And here. No shoulders. Nowhere near your kidneys. Safe as houses.’

‘Keep going,’ I said, then corrected myself. ‘Green.’

Snip! The smack on my right bum-cheek was biting enough that my eyes watered, but I could feel myself grinning. Not so bad.

‘Something funny, Lily?’

‘No, sir.’ I shook my head. ‘It just tickles a bit.’

‘Of course it does. We’re just warming up.’ He was back to stroking me with the lashes, a featherlight touch. ‘Let’s try that again, Ms Dewitt. Should I see you smiling one more time before I tell you to, you’ll be a very sorry girl. Are we clear?’

‘Yes.’

Crack. OK.

Jeepers, that hurt.

‘Yes, what?’ He held the flogger high in the air, his bicep bulging. If I pissed him off one more time, that would hurt a little too much.

‘And stop looking at me. I did not give you permission to look at me.’

‘Yes, Mr Holder,’ I said, lowering my eyes from the mirror.

On and on he punished. The smarting became stinging, then burning, then what felt like blistering. At last I wept and whimpered, ‘Mercy.’

‘Good. You lasted longer than I’d anticipated.’

How was it that I felt so proud of myself, and how long had he worked me over? Ten minutes? An hour? Endorphins pumped through my system. There would be welts, later, I was sure. But for now, only peace.

Dorian knelt, dropped his weapon and I heard clicking sounds behind me. He ran his palm ever so slightly over my ass, right where he had striped me up, and there was something icy cold and slick. I startled, expecting more pain, but let out a breath of gratitude as I felt immediate relief.

‘You may speak, now, Lily.’

‘What is that stuff?’ I asked, keeping my eyes downcast. ‘Mr Holder.’

‘Arnica. I always keep a tube in the fridge.’ His voice was lighter. ‘You have permission to look at me again.’

When I raised my head and looked at him behind me in the mirror, the beauty of his shadowed face and tenseness of his muscles took my breath away.

‘Are you all right, Lily?’ he croaked. The energy emanating from him as he battled himself for control was unmistakable.

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Yes, Mr Holder. Though my ass is still kind of on fire.’

‘So hard to hold back with a girl like you.’ Pretty sure that was supposed to be a compliment. He smoothed on more gel. ‘I need to fuck, and fuck hard.’

‘So what’s stopping you?’ I asked.

‘What, indeed?’ he replied, and he tugged down his pants and plunged inside me from behind. As our pelvises moved in rhythm, the pain vanished, and then there was a tightening beneath my navel, right as I was about to …

‘Come for me, Lily,’ he growled in my ear, just as I climaxed. Ha. One step ahead of him, I was.

Dorian thrust with abandon, wrapped his arms around me and squeezed my tits hard while driving every inch of his cock into my contracting pussy. At last he knelt, pulled out and stroked himself, while I watched in the mirror. He shot his cum all over my burning ass, then smoothed his hands along the length of my back, panting. ‘Jesus.’

‘I need you to hold me, now, Dorian,’ I told him, as our scene had come to its inevitable, satisfying conclusion. ‘And I’m so thirsty.’

Our ragged breath, the pounding of my heart in my ears, and French electronica rushed in waves, a cocoon of sound.

‘Of course you do.’ He leaned over, and trailed his lips the length of my spine. ‘Of course you are.’

We were silent as he unfettered me, and I slumped against him, spent and satiated, licking at my dry lips.

‘Time for bed, Lily. You’ve been a very good girl.’

CHAPTER 6

Just Desserts

Moonlight and streetlamps illuminated Dorian’s white bedroom, and I took in the starkness. He pulled the black curtains shut, and the sudden, cave-like darkness was utter and complete.

I wonder if Dorian ever goes spelunking. Bet he does. Oh, well. I’ll never know, now.

‘“In the white room … ,”’ I sang.

‘Hush.’ There was a soft rustling as he turned back the sheets. ‘Lie down, Lily. I would recommend on your stomach. I’ll be right back.’

The sheets were cool, soft and smelled sweetly of lavender. Mmn. I could get used to this. Well, don’t get used to it, dumbass.

Dorian returned with two bottles of water, two popsicles and two Advil.

‘Are you planning to put your popsicle on my butt cheek?’ I asked him. ‘Because I sure could use a little ice, there, cowboy.’

‘You do vex me, Lily,’ he said, hurriedly setting down his little care package. ‘Here. Take these, and I’ll bring you a cold pack.’

I propped my head up on my fist, and washed down the Advil with nearly an entire bottle of Fuji. ‘Yikes!’ I squealed, as Dorian pressed a cold pack against my right butt cheek. It was wrapped in soft cloth, and his touch was gentle.

‘Is that helping?’

‘Totally.’ I shivered. ‘Pass me a popsicle?’

‘What’s the magic word?’

‘Please.’

‘Close your eyes.’ There was a crackle as Dorian tore off the wrapper. ‘Now you’ll have to guess the colour.’

‘Already know. Luigis only makes lemon and lime, right?’

‘These aren’t “Italian ice”. They’re trashy popsicles, and they’re delicious.’

‘Hmn.’ I took a long suck. ‘Orange. You?’

‘I’m cooling your bottom right now. No time for oral fixation.’

‘Oh, you don’t have to keep holding it. Lie next to me. Hold me. Eat a popsicle.’

‘Demanding little thing, aren’t you?’ But he followed my directions and lay down beside me. There was a light note in his voice to which I was unaccustomed.

‘Whatcha got?’

‘Mmn. Red. Never knew if it was supposed to be raspberry or strawberry.’ Though it was dark, I could hear that he was smiling. ‘Let’s eat the whole box.’

I took another slurp. ‘We could have some fun with a box of popsicles, Mr Holder.’

‘Give me a few minutes, love.’ He laughed, and pulled me closer. ‘Why don’t you tell me your brilliant plans?’

‘You know …’ This was different. And he’d just called me ‘love’. ‘We shouldn’t ruin your sheets.’

‘I have others, you know.’

‘You change your own sheets?’

‘Touché. Open your mouth.’ Dorian slid the popsicle between my lips. His eyelashes were so long that I could even see them in his silhouette. They were fluttering like butterfly wings. Did I make him nervous? ‘Damn, that’s hot.’

‘Fruit punch. Neither strawberry nor raspberry.’

‘Right.’ He took a breath. ‘So, how do you feel about staying here with me tonight?’

‘For realz?’ I asked. ‘I don’t know. My lens stuff’s downstairs.’

Though I was trying to play it oh-so-cool, goosebumps prickled down my neck with excitement. Well, the icepack on my butt played no small role, but I didn’t expect the invitation, especially since my own bed was a mere few floors down.

‘You’ll find supplies in the drawer of your bedside table.’

‘OK, stalker-boy. I’ll stay the course.’ I nursed my frozen treat, mulling this over. ‘You know, Dorian, the only thing I actually wish you would replace is my glasses. The first time you kissed me, you stepped on them. And they were expensive. Or my version of expensive, anyway.’

‘You’re right, I did. I could replace them, or …’ He sucked on his popsicle. ‘If you want, I could buy you Lasik surgery. You’d never have to bother with them again. Or your lenses. I’m connected to the best—’