It’s a short drive back to The Axis. Elias doesn’t give me any trouble on the way or in the parking garage. He’s calm even as we take the elevator up to the penthouse, where I lead him through to the bedroom. He seems almost happy.
But then he realizes that I’m going to leave him. His eyes widen.
“Stay,” he whispers.
But I can’t possibly stay in this room. So I step out and shut the door and leave him safe inside.
TWENTY-THREE
Elias
I wake in the huge bed when the bedroom door opens and Andre walks in wearing the same black clothes he was wearing yesterday. Morning light is streaming in through the huge windows that are high enough above the city to see the water. I’m surprised to have slept so well, but then I am very comfortable.
I wasn’t at first. After Andre shut me in here last night, I sat on the floor for a long time. Then I did bad things. But Andre never came in. He knows how to punish me.
So I eventually went to bed. And now I don’t want to get out. I’m embarrassed to have Andre see what I’ve done.
He steps over the shattered remains of a vase that had no flowers in it. He doesn’t react to it. He ignores the damaged walls. He comes straight to the bed.
I clutch at the covers, but he rips them from my hands, yanking them away and exposing me. I try to cover my scratched thighs and belly, but Andre grabs my wrists and pins them above my head.
I close my eyes because his are too intense. I hear him breathing angrily above me, and I can’t help it: I get hard.
“You were very bad last night,” he says in low, dangerous voice.
I swallow hard and keep my eyes shut.
“Look at me, Elias.”
I open my eyes and shiver at the searing blue staring down at me.
“You were very bad,” he says again, but he hasn’t even see the worst of it, and as he hovers over me and I start shaking with anticipation andlife, I worry that when he does see it, he’ll punish me like he did last night, that he’ll leave me here again, alone.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
Touch me, I think.Fuck me. Hit me. Hurt me. Just don’t leave me.
Andre lets go of my wrists. I pull my arms in and fold them over my chest as Andre’s hands glide over the scratches on my belly and hips. I arch, pushing my cock up, but his hands slide past it to my scratched thighs.
“This isno,” he says.
Tears spring to my eyes. It’s been a long time since I’ve done this.
Andre grips my thighs, squeezing hard. “Do you hear me?”
I nod.
“Stay here,” he says.
My heart skitters as he releases my legs and straightens, but he doesn’t walk out. He goes into the bathroom and closes the door.
When I hear the shower, I think about darting into the closet to hide the evidence, but there’s nowhere to hide it. Besides, he told me to stay, and I’m afraid that if I disobey him, he’ll leave me.
I occupy my mind with analyzing the sounds from the bathroom. After he showers, he shaves. I know it by the tapping of his razor against the sink. Then he dries his hair. Smaller sounds I can’t discern. I’m eaten up with curiosity. What does he use? I know he doesn’t wear cologne. I’m glad because I love how he smells, though I only got to smell him once, and that was at Lush. He smelled clean and masculine and delicious.
When he emerges from the bathroom, it’s with a white towel wrapped around his waist. My breath catches. Despite all the times he’s fucked me, I’ve never seen any of his body before, and it’s every bit as beautiful as I imagined. He has a carved but fluid look. He’s powerful but not bulky. Muscle moves smoothly in his torso and shoulders and arms. I want to see the rest of him. I want to touch him.
But he walks past me and vanishes into the closet. I hold my breath. I brace myself. But he doesn’t yell at me or call me to him. He walks back out carrying the suit that I peed on. He carries it into the bathroom. I hear the faucet as he washes his hands.
