Lily and the Beast 2 (6 page)

“To think what?”

“It doesn’t matter.  The point is, you don’t have to be a part of it anymore.  I’m setting you free.” 

“What if I want to be a part of it?”  I willed him to look at me, to see my sincerity, but instead all I heard was a scowl in his voice.

“I don’t want your fucking pity.”

“It’s not pity.” 

“What is it then, Lily?” 

It was love.  Holy shit, I loved him.  And he didn’t give two shits about me.  Well, maybe one shit, or a half a shit.  He cared, in his own fucked up way.  But it wasn’t enough, especially when he was doing his best to shove me away.  Why was I even pushing for this when he so clearly wanted to be left alone? 

Because I was
his
. 

Even if he didn’t want me to be anymore, I could recognize that a part of me would always be his. 

“That’s what I thought,” he muttered in disgust.

“What?”  Shit, I’d been so blown over by the realization of love, I’d taken too long to answer him.

“Just leave.  For both of our sakes,” he said, his voice heavy with resignation. 

I licked my lips, planting my feet firmly on the ground.  “I don’t want to.” 

“I don’t give a damn what you want.  This is my house, there is only one master here, remember?”

“That sounds pretty lonely when you’re the master of no one.”

“Thanks for twisting the knife.  Now get the fuck out.”  He rose from the chair, brushing past me in the process and nearly knocking me off my feet. 

“I wasn’t trying to…”  Fuck, why did he have to be so prickly?  “Why are you doing this?  What did you mean before when you said you earned this?  Why do you think you have to hide out here all alone?”

“Because of this…”  Aidan whipped around, yanking my blindfold off and grabbing my elbows harshly as he loomed above me.  “This is my punishment, and my penance.  Take a good long look, Lily.”  He leaned close, making sure I had an excellent view of his ruined face.   I recoiled, not from the scarred wound, but from the roiling anger and anguish radiating off of him in waves.  “Now do you understand?  This is what happens when you take something sweet and innocent and try to corrupt it.  Now get the hell out before I drag you down into the darkness with me too.”

As much as his words pushed me away, he didn’t lessen his hold on me, and I had to hope that part of him still wanted me there.  I couldn’t understand the anger and frustration in his voice and the utter self loathing.  What sin did he think he had to pay for?  And then it came to me. 

Felice. 

He blamed himself for her death.  “Is this because of the accident?” I asked softly, and his eyes flared wide with pain. 

“I’m not doing this.” Aidan pushed away from me and stalked out of the room, slamming doors in his wake.

It took me a few moments to recover, still processing what had been said, and what hadn’t.  Eventually, I wandered downstairs, to be met by Mrs. Fisk.  I fully expected her to usher me to the car, and in that state, I probably wouldn’t have argued with her.  Instead, she wrapped an arm around my shoulder.   

“Would you like a cup of tea, dear?”

Nodding numbly, I followed her into the kitchen while she put the kettle on.  The rest of the servants were conspicuously absent, probably cowering from the beast’s ranting. 

I sat there, watching her go through the preparations for tea, ignoring the lemony cookies that Cook knew I liked so much, to wrap my hands around the teacup, letting the warmth seep into my bones. 

“What happened the night of the accident?” I asked finally.  “Does he blame himself for Felice’s death?”

For a moment, I thought she wouldn’t answer me, but then she took a sip of tea and replied.  “I can only tell you what I heard later, that they quarreled and Miss Felice drove out of here in a terrible state.” 

“What were they arguing about?”

“I couldn’t say.  But the master chased after her in his car.”

“He wasn’t in the car with her?”  For some reason, I’d thought he was in the crash himself.  How else would he be on the scene so quickly?

“No, thank the Lord, or he might’ve died as well.  He reached her just after the crash though, that’s when it happened.”

“What?”

“The dreadful blow to his face, of course.  A falling beam cleaved him straight to the bone as he was dragging her out of the wreckage, but he never let go of her for one instant.  In fact, they had to pry her body out of his arms.  He wouldn’t leave her, even to let them see to his own dreadful wound.”

I gasped over that mental image, picturing him with blood streaming down his face, holding onto his dead fiancée and shouting with rage when they tried to take her from him.  Christ, no wonder he was so fucked up over it.  “The news report said he only sustained minor injuries.”

“Oh yes, the senior Mr. Pierce hushed it all up, not wanting to add to Aidan’s suffering.” 

“And that’s the best they could do to sew him back together again?”  The scar had healed all jagged and puffy, it was hard to imagine a competent plastic surgeon couldn’t have minimized it considerably.

“The master wouldn’t let anyone near him with a needle and thread.  Said he’d only gotten as he deserved.”  Her voice lowered as she picked up her teacup again.  “His father threatened to have him sedated and attended to properly, but Aidan vowed to cut himself again if anyone came near him.  We thought for sure he’d end up having Master Aidan committed, but he sent him to Switzerland to a private sanatorium to recover.  We didn’t hear a peep from him for a few years after that, but when old Mr. Pierce died, Aidan came home to stay.” 

“And he fired everyone except for you.” 

Mrs. Fisk nodded sadly. 

“And none of you are ever allowed to look at him?  Even you?”

“No, not a one of us.  I’ve seen him, of course, poor dear.  But I’ve worked hard not to meet his gaze these past years.” 

“Then he could let me stay, as long as I didn’t look directly at him.”  I didn’t realize I’d said that aloud until she replied.

“I’m afraid his pride wouldn’t let that happen.  That and…”

“What?”

Mrs. Fisk blew across the top of her tea, taking another careful sip before she answered.  “I’m afraid he doesn’t want you here, because he doesn’t think he deserves to be happy.” 

I was starting to get a clearer picture of his talk about fate and what he deserved.  “Because he blames himself for the fight before Felice crashed her car?”

She nodded again.  We sat in companionable silence, each lost to our own thoughts as we finished the tea, until she glanced at the clock and took my empty cup.  “Shall I have the driver ready the car?”

“No.  Have my things brought back into the house,” I decided on the spot.   

“You’re not leaving?” she gaped.  “But the master…”

“If he wants me to go, he’ll have to toss me out of here himself.”   I wasn’t about to let his misguided sense of pride and shame chase me away without a fight. 

And then I totally chickened out until after dark.

I kept telling myself I wanted to let him cool off and start to really miss me before I went to him.  I’d gotten Mrs. Fisk to agree to make sure the rest of the household staff kept mum that I hadn’t been in the car after she sent it away.  For all he knew, I’d left, just as ordered, and I wasn’t coming back.  Hiding out in my room for the rest of the day, I kept imagining I’d hear him in the house, but it was my imagination.  Mrs. F told me later he hadn’t left his bedroom since our fight, and he hadn’t touched his lunch. 

Not too hungry myself, I picked at my food, eating enough to make sure I didn’t pass out from hunger in the middle of my plan.  No, if I passed out again, hopefully it’d be from something far more pleasant, like last time.  Later, Mrs. Fisk reported that he’d gone back to his office to get some work done and sent for a sandwich, and I wasn’t sure if that meant he was already over me or trying to distract himself from his complete and total misery.  My ego decided to go with the second one. 

When the update came that he’d gone back to his bedroom and asked not to be disturbed, I knew it was time to mobilize.  But still, I didn’t leave the bedroom until the rest of the house settled down for the night.  This was either going to go exactly as planned, or I’d end up thrown out on my ass, and the fewer witnesses to my humiliation, the better. 

Wearing only my white, satin robe, I tiptoed to his office, breathing through my mouth to be as silent as possible, while my heart sounded like it was banging a conga drum in my ears.  I couldn’t manage the leather corset on my own, and I thought it might have negative connotations for him now, so I chose another costume from the wardrobe in the playroom. 

A black, patent leather, demi-bra pushed my boobs up high.  Not quite as high as the corset, but much more comfortable, and I could get it on myself.  Matching shorts, that laced in front, clung to my ass like a shiny second skin.  Black fishnet stockings with the garter belt completed the look, but I didn’t dare wear heels, afraid of the noise they’d make on the marble floors.  I found the wrist and ankle cuffs without too much trouble, using my teeth to help buckle the last one in place.  The collar was the last thing I slipped on before I replaced the short robe, and it gave me an extra notch of confidence, knowing Aidan liked to see me in the stiff leather. 

Stopping in his deserted office, I helped myself to a steadying drink of whiskey, breathing past the burn.

I was really doing this. 

All kinds of doubts surfaced, thinking how badly this could go, but I shoved them away.  After all, what did I have to lose?  Only my pride, and he was worth it.  We were worth it. 

Pulse pounding in my ears, I padded down the hall to his bedroom, pressing my ear against the door to see if I could hear anything, but the thick wood defeated me.  Fully expecting to be caught at any moment, I wrapped my hand around the cool doorknob, turning so slowly, it didn’t make a sound.  When it wouldn’t turn any more, I let out the breath I’d been holding and pushed it gently open. 

The bedroom was dimly lit by the fireplace and a lamp at his bedside table.  Aidan lay stretched out atop the covers, reading a thick, hardcover book.  For a heart stopping moment, I watched him, waiting to see if he noticed the door opening, but he was fully engrossed in the book.  Even with the scar, he was a magnificent specimen of man, all sinew and strength, and I loved to look at him after being denied it for so long.  His dark blonde hair gleamed dully in the light, tangling around his shoulders that were barely covered by the black wife-beater he wore. 

The room’s décor was heavy and dark, like his study, with darkly paneled wood on the walls, and ornate, masculine furniture that had probably been handed down from generation to generation.  The bed was even bigger than the one in his playroom, probably custom made, bigger than king size, and the canopy above the four posts was draped in burgundy velvet to match the bedding.  A leather recliner sat in front of the fireplace, opposite a much more feminine chair in a pale green brocade.  His mother’s chair maybe?  It didn’t look like it’d seen much use for a while, if ever. 

I shut the door behind me, freezing for another few seconds to make sure he didn’t see me, before I crossed to the soft rug in front of the fireplace.  So far, so good.  He hadn’t even looked up once.  I slipped off my robe and draped it over the green chair, kneeling before the fire.  Closing my eyes, I sank back on my heels and brought my wrists together behind my back in the most submissive position I could manage. 

I felt it the instant he noticed me there, his sharp intake of breath telling me I’d managed to surprise him, but I couldn’t judge if he was happy or angry to see me.

My chest rose as I sucked in a breath, little more than a whisper escaping me as I broke the silence, but I knew he heard my words.  “I’m ready for my punishment, Aidan.”

There was a creak on the bed and the snap of a book being closed, and my heart leapt as I felt him come closer, but his voice was cold when he spoke.  “Get up.  I didn’t ask you to do this.”

“But you want me to.”  I could feel his need radiating off of him in waves, drawing him closer.

“You think you know me?”  The sneer came through loud and clear in his tone, but I didn’t let it shake me.  I knew the truth.

“I know you,” I insisted softly, and he didn’t contradict me this time. The silence stretched between us, and I felt the heat of his fingers a microsecond before they touched my cheek.  I nuzzled into that touch, craving it more than I’d ever wanted anything before. 

“You don’t have to do this,” he said, his voice pleading – was it for me to say yes or no?  As I felt him kneel behind me, my heart beat faster, anticipation crackling over my skin like electricity. 

“I want to.”  I wanted to reach out and touch him, but I understood that he needed to feel in control for this to work.  Eyes still tightly shut, I kept my head down, my head tilting to one side.  “Blindfold me if you have to, but I want this.  I want you, Aidan.”

Long seconds ticked by, and I started to wonder if I’d been wrong.  Maybe he couldn’t get past this?  Maybe he didn’t want me the way I wanted him?  And then his mouth closed over that spot on my neck and his tongue swirled against my skin, sucking lightly.  My lips parted in relief even as desire shot through me from that single point of contact.  Aidan laid worship to that one spot with his lips and tongue and the scrape of teeth until I ached to feel the rest of his body pressed against mine. 

Unable to stop myself, I swayed and leaned back, rewarded by the press of his cock against my spine, already hard and straining for release against his soft, stretchy pants.  His mouth released my neck, hot breath fanning over my moist skin as his lips dragged up to my ear. 

“Keep your eyes closed,” he whispered, teeth catching my earlobe for a single, sharp bite.