Faithless (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (33 page)

I watch Ezra’s dress shoes get closer to me as I listen to the door being shut and locked. The whisper of fabric causes goosebumps to erupt on my arms. I shiver from the roots of my hair to my toenails.

Gray shoes interrupt my line of sight- not Ezra’s. Ez’s shoes are expensive black, shiny leather with a buckle closure. These are well-worn gray suede with frayed laces. Warm, slim fingers curl underneath my chin and gently lift my face until my gaze meets Grant’s.

Grant doesn’t speak, he just looks into my eyes- a small, sad smile curls his lips. His blue eyes are rimmed in red as if he’s been crying. “Mitchell will not watch- I promise,” he vows. “I have to watch, but I want you to know that I will not enjoy it nor judge you. It is what it is. I know you hate this. Ezra and I hate this
and feel ashamed. Please try to relax and just block everything out but your friend,” Grant lends the only advice that will offer me sanity. His fingers linger for a moment and then slip away. I watch his shoes until he is sitting in a chair opposite the sofa.

Ezra doesn’t speak to me. He slowly tugs on my arm to unfurl my body until I’m lying
on my side on the leather sofa. For the rest of my life, I will despise this piece of furniture. The leather is cold where my cheek rests. I wrap my arms over my chest and cross my thighs. I whimper, not wanting to do this- this isn’t the front seat of a car or in a tent with my friends- this is with an audience- this is with a purpose- this is forced. This is something I will never heal from.

Ezra lies next to me, curling around my body as if we are going to take a nap on this sofa, not make a living, breathing human being that will walk this Earth- a person with feelings, aspirations, and a desti
ny. A person that this game will destroy. A person they will degrade and control- this person will have my lifeblood flowing through their veins.

A whimper fills the air- mine.

Ezra sighs into my ear, the warm breath leaves me cold- I shiver and whimper again. He embraces me, wrapping his arms around my back; his heavy thigh weighs down my hip. Movement has me flinching- Grant, placing a blanket over our bodies, shielding us from his view. My vision goes black as the blanket goes over my head, sealing Ezra and me in an intimate embrace.

I panic.

“Breathe with me,” Ezra murmurs in my ear. His hand slowly slides up my side, beneath the fabric of my clothing- fingers on skin. Ez’s hand settles over my heart, my breasts surrounding his warm palm. “Breathe with me,” he says again, as I struggle not to hyperventilate. When I try to take a deep breath his hand impedes the motion. Long minutes tick by until I’m breathing slowly, matching the pant of breath in my ear.

Fingers on the button of my pants have me clawing at Ezra’s back. My heart beats so hard that it tries to erupt from my chest. “No,” I whimper.

“Yes,” Ezra whispers into my ear. “Yes,” he says again to block out the sound of my zipper lowering. It doesn’t help- the ominous cadence of his voice mixed with the deafening sound of metal on metal makes me panic. “Shh… it’s just me,” he reassures me in a calm voice. “I’ve touched you here… with my mouth, fingers, and my…” he trails off, not saying the word that will have me screaming in agony.

Finding strength from a place I didn’t know existed, I reach down with shaky hands and pull my leather pants off. I push them to the edge of the sofa with my feet, but not outside the blanket. I irrationally fear that if Grant saw my clothes, he’d know what we are doing. That is all the clothes I take off, just my pants- I refuse to take my panties off.
Taking my pants off and refusing to remove my panties offers me comfort- an illogical sense that I control something, even if it means so very little.

Ezra is even more modest than I am. The sound of his zipper has sweat beading on the back of my neck and down the curve of my spine. He takes nothing off, he just reveals himself. I’m thankful for the dark intimacy of the blanket- I don’t know if I could take seeing him- it would kill a part of me if he were aroused. I also fear that he won’t become aroused- I have no doubts that we can’t just play pretend and get away with it without proof.

He touches me. Ez’s smooth, elegant fingers skirt the edge of my panties. He touches me nowhere else. He makes no move to kiss me or take liberties with my breasts or the rest of my body. Just his fingers slowly edging inside my underwear until the pads of his fingertips connect with the dry flesh between my thighs.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Ez says in explanation for trying to turn me on by swirling around the nub of my sex
, trying to get my body to release moisture.

“What about you,” I murmur against his throat.

“Don’t worry,” his hoarse reply has me freezing. Ezra is aroused- Ezra. Ezra is gay.

“What?” I say on a shaky breath.

“Just relax,” he quietly says- and then I hear it- the difference.

“No,” I whimper.

“He can’t know,” is Ezra’s reply. “He can’t know.”

“I won’t tell Cort,” I promise- even forced… this, this is definitely cheating- there is no rationalizing our way out of it.

Ezra and I are faithless.

Ez ignores me as his hand slides down the
back of my thigh and hooks under my knee. He scoots forward until his arousal rests against my sex. He is hot, thick, and pulsing against my flesh. I shiver with trepidation and anticipation.

“No, Cort will never find out,
” Ez grunts out, fisting himself, gliding the bulbous head of his cock along my slit. “But we both know I’m not talking about him,” rumbles deep from his chest. “It was Ez’s choice. He asked me to take over. He couldn’t handle it. There will be no fallout, no aftermath, and no sedation. We agreed. No one forced the other. Ezra is sleeping, so therefore there is no Ez. It’s just you and me, Faith,” Master Ez murmurs into my ear. “And we will never tell a soul what we do beneath this blanket. For the first time in my life, I will do something evil to protect Ez. I will not tell him the truth when he rises- I will commit evil to protect a part of myself,” he vows.

“What?” I shriek- it’s not fear. I don’t fear any of the parts of Ezra. I’ve held conversations with both parts of him while he rested beneath the surface. Not a breakdown, but a way to show me how his mind functions. He is whole ninety percent of the time. It’s that other ten percent that scares me, usually it’s the broken Ezra trying to rule but Master Ez takes control.

Ez glides his sex into me, a pressing inch at a time- I pant against the invasion, feeling nothing but emotional and mental confusion and the hot, stretching pressure of Ezra inside my body.

“He… he had something else planned
, trying to be loyal and honorable,” Ez admits. His breath whistles through his clenched teeth. “I couldn’t allow this to keep happening. It will be monthly until
our
eighteenth birthday. I couldn’t do that- I couldn’t repeatedly hurt you- month after month, Faith. He was going to do anal- and it would have just prolonged this agony. If… if,” Ez presses his lips to my ear and tightly whispers, “If we can’t hide you at Stanton’s home, we would suffer this until it worked. I can’t live with that.”

A grunt is torn from my chest when Ez roughly thrusts. “He can never know- h
e can never know I just lost
our
virginity. I will replay this scene within
our
mind when he awakens, with one change- and afterwards, we will suppress our guilt and shame by taking Cortez to bed- the three of us,” he commands. “We will need you as much as you will need us when this is over- and we will both need Cortez.”

I cry out when he
smoothly presses into me. His arms enfolding me, face pressed into my ear- his breath echoes in my mind- a sound I will never forget. The feel of his flesh between my thighs, invading, impaling, seeking… but no longer unwelcome. My body doesn’t betray me. It simply unfurls and accepts Ezra because I trust him.

My arms go around his body, fingers biting into the small of his back as I open myself up to him. I cry into his neck as his tears dampen the hair near my ear.
We both cry through the give and take of making love, of creating a life.

He whispers prayers into my ear in a language I don’t understand as I pray to God that this doesn’t work- if it doesn’t, it won’t be for nothing. I will seek refuge at Stanton’s. I trust Grant to get me there. I trust myself to know that I will never endure this again- there will be no month after month of forced sex- this is a one-time shot, and I pray to the same God that Ezra is chanting to, that this fails- because if this fails, we win… and they lose.

“I love you, Faith,” Ezra murmurs into my ear. “We may be separate, but a few things we agree on… and you are one of them. You are family- you always will be.”

I don’t tell Ezra that I love him
, even though I do. I say the words that will mean more. “I trust you,” I vow as my body clenches and quivers, taking what his body erupts. I clench my teeth and bite back the sounds of pained pleasure that try to escape- Ezra isn’t as lucky. His guttural moan endlessly echoes around the study as he jerks in my arms.

We lie intertwined on the sofa, listening to our mingled b
reathing. This wouldn’t be bad, like it was after Wil and I had had sex, if it wasn’t for the obvious presences in the room and the labored breath coming from the chair to my right- Grant.

“I need proof,” my grandfather’s deep voice invades our privacy. “Ezra, please see me at the door. Grant will do the honors with Faith.” I freeze as Ezra goes from half-firm to beyond soft from the sinister sound of my grandfather’s voice… and then the words hit me- the impact spreading terror through my system.

“What?” I whimper.

“Mitchell wants to look at my spent cock,” Ezra snidely hisses. “Grant has to do something that neither of you will enjoy,” he says with a shaky voice. “I’m sorry.” Ezra kisses my temple as he pulls from my body and my arms.

I watch Ezra shakily stride towards the sinister presence looming near the door, but he’s thankfully facing away from us. Ez’s pants are undone, his sex hanging out. I swallow as I see the glossy sheen and the slight tinge of pink. It was only the second time I’ve had sex- months in between- and Ezra was larger than Wil. I don’t like seeing a part of me on Ez or knowing that my grandfather will see me on him, too.

Grant gains my attention as he kneels by the side of the couch. “You’re not looking at me down there,” I
hiss in a trembling voice.

“I won’t look,” Grant gravely says as he peels back the side of the blanket. I look to my grandfather and Ezra, both are facing the door. Apparently Ezra had the proof Mitchell sought, as his pants are fastened and they are standing side-by-side.  “I’m sorry,” Grant’s apology shocks me.

“For what?” I scramble to find my pants, but a hand on my shoulder stops me.

Grant captures my gaze, enthralling me, calming me. “I don’t want to do this,” he says to himself. “Please
, forgive me.”

“Ugh!” I garble a grunt as two of Grant’s
long fingers impale me. He goes in deep, but it’s a brief fleeting touch that leaves me stunned, wide-eyed, and breathless. I had been too busy staring into Grant’s eyes to notice the creeping hand invading the blanket. The hand reemerges, covered in a sticky, pinkish fluid- my blood and juices and Ezra’s semen. I feel sick to my stomach as Grant flashes me a sorry half-smile as he walks over to the door to show my grandfather his proof covered hand.

I pull the seat of my panties back in
to place and shimmy into my leather pants- I need clothed. I never want to be exposed to anyone’s sight, least of all right now when I feel extremely violated. My grandfather murmurs something to the men but he never looks or directs a word towards me. He slips out the double doors, leaving me alone with Grant and Ezra.

“I’m sorry,” Grants mumbles as he wipes me off his hand with a linen handkerchief. Shame and mortification slam into me as I see
my family friend diligently wiping my fluids from his hand- a hand that touches Regina and the boys. I feel self-disgust, as if I violated Grant in some perverse manner.

“I’m sorry, too,” I mutter my apology to Grant, my eyes never leaving his hand.

“Faith,” Ezra says, snapping me out of my misery. He’s… he’s whole again. I can tell by the tension lining his face and the stiff way he holds his body and the green tinge to his paper-white skin. Master Ez does what needs done and without regret- I see regret, so Ez is whole inside his mind.

“Ez,” I reply in the name he uses when he’s whole. I want Ezra to know that I knew it was Master Ez and that now he’s gone.

“Cort?” He says, lifting his eyebrows in question. I watch his throat as he painfully swallows whatever he needs to say but is too afraid to voice.

“This never leaves this room,” I warn Ezra and Grant. “Ever,” I snarl. “That includes Cort. He can never know we did this.
It will ruin whatever friendship and love is between us,” I sadly admit as I pull the soiled blanket off of me and toss it to the back of the sofa. I stalk towards the doors, straightening my clothing as I walk. “Our faithless asses have some amends to make to our boyfriend. C’mon,” I growl as I grab for the doorknob.

“Faith,” Grant and Ezra cautiously say at the same time, both reaching out towards me.

“Don’t touch me,” I warn- one comforting touch and I will break. I can’t break, my night isn’t done. I now have to have sex with Cortez to remove this heavy, torturous weight that is compressing my chest. I won’t like it, but it will lessen the guilt I feel over being with Ezra- taking Ezra’s virginity without his consent or knowledge. It’s only fair I take Cort’s innocence as well.