Eventually, barnacles and coral would cover the glass, starting a new existence as part of an ecological system rather than housing liquor to poison my mind and liver.
Unable to return inside just yet, I leaned on the balustrade and sighed. The pretty view sparkled and glitzed. Snatches of music made its way over the water, revealing the never-ending party Monte Carlo encouraged. The rich playground that never slept.
A few years ago, I’d partaken in the all-night affairs. I’d drunk and seduced and stolen.
Now, the thought of dancing with sweaty strangers, of sex in alleyways because libidos were jacked and morals were torn, appalled and intrigued me. I’d never been comfortable in crowds, but the allure of being no one for a while—of pretending to be someone other than myself—held more weight than normal.
What would it be like to be different? To have no sins or regrets? To have no blood beneath my nails or transgressions chasing me constantly? What would it be like to meet Pim across a crowded dance floor? To see a strong, untouched, unbroken woman and ask to share a drink with her? What would it be like to writhe together in song beat, jostled by other strangers, slowly getting more and more turned on, her body against my body. Her legs brushing my legs. Her eyes inviting me to take her.
What would it be like to take her to a private corner and fuck her with no baggage, no issues, no old pains to overcome? To just be us with no bullshit or history to ruin it all?
I knew what it would be like. It would be fucking heaven. Utmost bliss to sink inside her, knowing exactly what she wanted as she moaned in ecstasy.
I could finally switch off and let go. To no longer fight who I was. To be free…just for a second.
My head hung, wanting that more than anything. More than cellos or weed or forgiveness. My cock grew hard, locked on the fantasy of being inside Pimlico with her as a full participant. To feel something other than physical connection; to finally let whatever emotions I had toward her manifest into something I could label and not something I wanted to run the fuck away from.
I hated how weak I was where she was concerned. How angry she made me. How messed up. I’d refused to talk to her or even look in her direction since my mother threw me from my home.
The entire drive back to port, on the short speedboat ride, and boarding of my super yacht, I hadn’t touched, spoken, or looked at her.
I couldn’t.
I was so fucking embarrassed.
How could I look at her when she’d seen how unwanted I was? How I had everything society said we needed to be happy, yet I was miserable?
I knew what I would’ve seen in her eyes if I had looked at her.
Pity.
Motherfucking pity and I refused to see that.
I’d rather see her hatred and accusation like before.
She’d gone to her quarters, and I’d gone to mine, and I had no desire to seek her out. Yet here I was hard for her and deliberating taking a shower to give in to the desire in my blood. Of making myself come with a fist and then numbing my mind with a joint.
“Elder?”
My head shot upright as I spun to face an unwanted intruder.
I rubbed my eyes, wondering for a second if the vodka had affected me, after all. But no, she was still there. Still watching me with concern that pissed me right off.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
She flinched but held her ground. She’d changed into a grey dress with black cranes flying over the fabric. It made her seem wiser, braver, ready to fight rather than wanting to flee.
“I-I was worried about you.” She stepped out of my suite, her bare feet silent on the polished deck. The breeze snatched the bottom of her dress, flashing me glimpses of calves and ankles.
My cock twitched as lust drenched my system. Two innocuous places on a woman, yet on Pim, I’d never seen anything sexier. I wanted to run my fingers up her legs. I wanted to nip at her ankles. I wanted to touch every inch.
“I expected to hear music.” Her eyes glowed in the moonlight. “I almost didn’t come as I didn’t want to interrupt. But…you’re not playing your cello.” Her voice softened. “Why?”
Why?
Because if I did, I wouldn’t be able to stop.
Because if I did, I’d probably do something I regret.
“Doesn’t matter. Don’t concern yourself.” My back stiffened as she stepped closer.
“It does concern me. You brought me into your life, and now your life concerns me. Do you want to talk about what happened today?”
I barked with displeasure. “Talk?” I backed away, putting space between us for my sake and hers. “No, I don’t want to talk.”
“But I’m worried—”
“Don’t be worried about me, little mouse. Be worried for yourself.”
Her face scrunched up, somehow making her even more beautiful. Her eyes narrowed in question, her lips tilted in curiosity. Her shiny brown hair licked around her shoulders, tempting me so fucking much to fist and yank her to me. To kiss her. To take her. To forget every rule and requirement.
She didn’t come closer, but she didn’t back away either. A few weeks ago, the girl I’d saved from horror would’ve dropped her gaze and probably buckled to her knees while shedding her dress for her master’s use of her body. Now, she held her ground; the slight tremor in her limbs was the only sign her stoic bravery was only borrowed and not common-place.
“Talk or not, I couldn’t sleep unless I came to see you.” She paused as if searching for words she’d long since ignored in favour of silence. “You didn’t have dinner. No one knew where you were. Selix told me you might have left.”
“You were asking about me?” My body tensed, not because she’d pried into my privacy but because she’d willingly spoken to others all because she was thinking about me.
My heart raced faster. “Why do you care? You should be grateful to be left alone. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
She frowned. “Why would I be grateful to be ignored?”
“Grateful to be unharassed.”
“That’s wrong.” She linked her fingers together like some seer about to reveal my future or the date of my death. “Your friendship has never been a harassment.”
I chuckled low. “Friendship? You call what we have a friendship?”
“You were the first to call me a friend.” Her neck rippled as she swallowed. “I’d like to be yours in return.”
I should’ve accepted her answer. I should’ve nodded and bid her good night. I should’ve done a lot of things.
But I did none of them.
Stalking forward, I didn’t stop until I towered over her; infiltrating her space, I made her gasp and shiver. “You’d like to be my friend? After everything I’ve done?”
She sucked in a breath; her eyes dancing over my face before settling on my lips. The one fucking place she should never look because it made me hard and angry and horny and so many fucking things I should never be around her. It reminded me that I wanted this woman. I’d wanted her for weeks, and I still hadn’t had her, and now I never would because I refused to let the awful things my mother said come true.