CONTAINS CONTENT:
Mild language, sensuality, sensual dialogue.
{{Unedited}}
When Marielle woke up, she wasn’t as peaceful as she’d been when she’d ended the night. Not because she’d changed her mind – she smiled softly at the ring as it glittered on her finger – but because she knew that she had to tell Austin that she’d said yes to being Vincent’s wife and she didn’t know how he’d take it.
She dragged herself from the mattress, turned Austin’s gift off, put it back under the bed, and got ready for the day. Her phone buzzed immediately. “May I come home, love? I miss you so much. Room ten is lonely without you and your creamy legs on my bed. And I was so cold without you.”
She blushed, remembering the first time that she took her pants off in front of him, and biting her lip, she lifted her phone to her ear and hit call. It rang only once before his strong, baritone voice answered. “Masin.”
Her face reddened further, “I miss you,” she whispered, huskily.
“Do you? Or do you miss what I do to you?”
She fell back against the bed again. “Can I have both?” she purred.
He chuckled. “I’m just out of the shower, love… I thought about you in there.”
“Oh?” She could hardly breathe; her heart was beating so wildly.
“Oui… can I come to you? I’ll gladly shower a second time if it means that I can be with you… I’ll even help you to clean.”
“Oh, Vincent,” she heaved, needing to cool off. “Yes, please come to me. I need you.”
“I’m already gone,” he whispered. “Adieu.” He hung up.
She went to the bathroom and decided to shower before he came home, but realizing that there was no food in the house, she threw some clothes on and ran to the store, quickly buying eggs, milk, some produce, bread, butter, and a few other things before running back, putting it all away, and getting into the shower.
When she got out, and wrapped a towel around her middle, she went to the hall to see him sitting in the living room. He was painting again, and he looked up at her sadly, and gave her a cracked smile. “We should probably talk first,” he whispered. She nodded, and came closer, but hung back from the painting. “Yesterday was hard.” He ran the tip of a brush over the canvas. “One of your problems, Masin is that you don’t know when to quit… not even me. Everything that I’ve done? You should have quit me a long time ago.”
“Should I have?” she asked in a tone that told him that she already knew the answer.
“Oui.” He swirled the brush in some water. “So, why don’t you?”
She thought about how to word what she was about to say. “Curious? Hopeful?” She shrugged a single shoulder and twisted her hands together in thought. She tried to careen her head a little to see what he was painting, but he noted this and leaned a bit one way so she could see nothing. All that she knew was the colors that he was using and she found them odd… black, red. Again, she imagined a painting of herself in that dress that she only wore for Austin. “I can be happy with you. I love you,” she whispered sadly, and when she said it, her tone was more genuine than he’d ever heard it, before and fear flickered across his expression before it died.
He pulled back, and eyed the picture for a moment like it was the devil. Whatever he was painting had somehow shifted in his mind and now she was nervous… lots of red paint, was he painting the devil? For a wedding gift? She shuddered.
She went to the couch and put her hand on her knee and as the sun came through the window behind him, it flashed over her hand and he saw the glittering.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, he glanced down at her fingers. There was the engagement ring twinkling.
He got up from the painting and came to sit by her, his eyes wide and fluctuating between uncertainty, and excitement. “Ar…” he couldn’t get the words out. Licking his dry lips, he gave her a soft, hopeful smile and combed the hair back behind her ear gently before he pinched her chin and gave her a soft, tender kiss.
Taking up her left hand, he threaded their fingers together before he glanced down at their hands intwined together and looked at the ring on her finger as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
She leaned in, and unexpectedly began to press her mouth to his neck. He took in a ragged breath and closed his eyes, letting her soft lips glide across his skin and the spot under his jawline. Then she moved lower to his collar bone and nipped at his shoulder a little before she began to move lower, kissing over his heart, her fingertips following the trail.
He watched her intently as she slipped down between his knees onto the floor, eyes fixated on her form in anticipation. She slipped her hand up onto his knee, where the ring glowed and gleamed.
His breath hitched, again. “Masin… are you saying yes?” He breathed.
She smiled and nodded. “Yes, Vincent,” she replied. Then she reached up and started to undo his belt. He grabbed her wrist, pulling her up against him for a hungry kiss, devouring her mouth with his. She pulled away, but rested her forehead against his. “Please, love…” she begged. “Let me have control this time,” she said. He stared at her; eyes full of tears. She slipped back to the ground, and continued to undo his belt. His mouth was a tad ajar in stunned silence as she kissed the inside of his left knee. “Please let me show you how much I love you, Vincent.”
***
–The most frightening words. Austin thought after she’d invited him into her office and said, “we need to talk.”
She tried to keep her thoughts distant… secure, so that she could tell this to him without him reading all of it first.
She took in a deep breath and slowly let it out. He closed his eyes, seeming to know what was coming, but praying that he was wrong as he twisted his fingers between his knees. He glanced at her hand, which confirmed everything anyway.
“I said yes to Vincent,” she stated, simply. He blinked once or twice, then immediately looked off, trying to force himself not to register what she’d just said but she saw his jaw loosen and tremble and his eyes glitter. “I’m going to marry him.” More silence. “I have to finish what I started here, Austin, and I want to go away for a while. I want to get away from Valorant and from this life,” she explained. She realized that her words seemed an awful lot like they could have been said about him, too. “And I love him,” she added.
He closed his eyes – forcing himself not to scoff – for a moment. Then opened them again, eyeing her bookshelf with his fingertips to his lips as if trying to make sure that nothing passed between them and he remained silent after taking in a deep breath and letting it back out raggedly. “No protests?” He finally met eyes with her, they were distant.
“No point in voicing my thoughts, you already know them,” he said flatly, quietly. In truth… what she heard inside of him? Was screaming. Not screaming exactly, it sounded like a storm at sea; but under the water there was something like thunder and lightning and roars from above. She felt it; the unease, the seesawing upon the torrential waves, the disorientation that he was drowning in; she felt it all. “When’s the wedding?” he said, tightly.
“We’re looking at the end of March. His birthday is the 19th, so we thought somewhere around the twenty fifth.” He swallowed hard and smoothed his fingertips over his mouth again. “You really have nothing to say.”
He looked so lost that her stomach twisted with pangs of anxiety. “What did you want me to do, darling? Get on my knees and beg?” he breathed. “You know that I don’t get on my knees for anybody,” he growled, darkly.
She looked down quietly assessing his response. He was in shock; this would slap him across the face later and he’d react in some way that she wouldn’t be able to see or hear. Her thoughts were loud and that word slap caused both to enter the same memory.
Okay, I get it…
SLAP
No…you…don’t!
He chuckled silently at himself, and met rimmed eyes with her again, “Okay,” he whispered. “I get it,” he added even more quietly. Except this time, he did. He nodded, accepting this as fact, but his body language and eyes – now welled with tears – told her that he was going to quietly accept it and fall completely apart at some later time. “Congratulations,” he whispered. He nodded once and shakily. “It’s what you want,” he lied. His eyes even flashed left.
-False.
He glared at her. -I’m not going to debate you right now. You’ve made your decision. Be happy in it.
-I’m going to be.
-Good. I… on the other hand… will always secretly, and I guess distantly, now… love you more than I love breathing.
She bit back tears. “You’ll find someone, Austin,” she spoke.
He scoffed as he jerked his head to one side, chuckling ironically. Then his hubris completely fell. “Yeah,” was all that he said.
“Who knows, maybe you’ll even find someone with telepathy or something.”
He practically cut her off, “I loved you long before we began the telepathic connection that we have, I just didn’t know how to interpret it as love, and I didn’t want it at the time for fear of what it would do to me,” he growled, flicking his gaze up to hers. “Hazal doesn’t need to grab the sides of my head anymore to show me my worst fear…”
All that she offered him was, “I’m sorry, Austin.” She shook her head. “You always knew that this was a possibility.” Barbara’s words to him in the elevator burned brightly in both of their minds.
He blinked a few times, eyes fixated on the floor. She was right. He’d always known this. “Yeah.” He stood, pulling the right side of his coat in and buttoning it. “I’ll excuse myself. I’m sure you understand.”
“I do.”
He nodded and promptly left.
He handled that better than I thought that he would. She thought quietly and that frightened her because she was afraid that he was going to rage, rail, and who knew what else later in private.
Once he shut the door to his office, he leaned on it for a moment and stared up at the ceiling telling himself that he was dreaming… but the icy chill in the room reminded him quickly that he wasn’t.
Vincent… she’d chosen Vincent. Barbara had been right.
She’s the only one who can ever truly know Austin Michael Rancor… and the only one that truly accepts you, isn’t she? You’ve never once known that in your life, or love…And you’re terrified to lose it. You have no idea how close to Tundra you really are… And you’re afraid that she’s just going to keep choosing Vincent, aren’t you? Let me spoil it for you… she is. And if not Vincent… Chamber.
He couldn’t breathe. Where was there air? Where? He could do it now… he could rush back into her office, throw some ice at her so she was frozen in place, grab her, throw her over his shoulder, drag her to his car, take off, and disappear. He was good at disappearing, no one would ever know.
No, no… what the hell? No.
His blood was stomping on his chest, threatening to spin the world around in fifty circles in the next two minutes.
He pressed both hands to his face and dug, rubbing as if he thought that he could remove the expression that he was sure that he was making. He couldn’t, and no amount of pulling or pushing his fingers into his eyes was going to change the fact that burning, silent tears were streaming down his face.
He needed her, he couldn’t have her. He needed her. What did he do? For a moment the old demons started to resurface.
Just go out. Just find that surrogate and use her. It’ll help, you know it will.
He looked down at his wedding ring like it had just come to life and was beginning to shrink in size until it would cut his finger off.
He tore the ring from his finger and tossed it into the trash, then whirled, mind set on getting into his car and going to the corner where a pretty girl with dark hair always seemed to proposition him.
Austin started for the door, rage burning in his mind. He knew that the moment that he got a girl home that he was going to take all that rage out on her. He was going to be rough, and difficult, and cuss her out and maybe even…
He stopped. Why had he used his left hand to reach for the door handle? He didn’t know… but he’d glanced down at it and was frozen now as he looked at his hand. There it was across the top of his finger. Her name. Not just her name, a declaration. “Marielle’s…”
What am I doing? If I go find a girl right now… I’ll kill her.
He wasn’t actually sure that he would kill a woman right now… but it wouldn’t be pleasant. His rage was outstanding, red spots were starting to freckle his vision.
He collapsed on the couch and sat for a moment, counting to ten and trying to rearrange his thoughts. Then remembering that Marielle could probably hear all of this. Also, that if she could, she wasn’t responding at all. He was on his own, here.
Austin tried to bury his thoughts more deeply into his subconscious, and breathe deeply, and calmly.
How he wished that he could be like Vincent in this regard. He wanted to be able to just breathe through anything that was happening. Wife taken? Just breathe, and plan. Someone was rude? Just breathe and don’t respond. A hurricane surrounding you on all sides? Ride the tidal wave that was sure to follow like a pro surfer. He envied him in this.
Why don’t you try it? A voice said, and he had to admit to himself that he wasn’t sure whether that voice was his own, Marielle, or satan at this point. Heck, maybe the Loch Ness monster was in there somewhere; he was feeling just about that crazy.
He flipped his left hand over, “good boy,” the thought finished.
“Marielle’s good boy.” He smiled softly, wiping away a tear as he remembered when he’d first had that thought. She was spoon-feeding him chocolate ice cream after he’d dreamt that he was in hell. She smiled brightly at him. –Good boy.
-I’ll always be your good boy.
He went to the trash can on his knees and fished the ring out from the bottom of crumpled papers and a candy bar wrapper before leaning back, relief washing over him that he hadn’t lost it, yet as he slipped it back over his finger, and kissed it. “It was a promise,” he whispered. “I’ll always be your good boy.”
He fell back against the couch and a surge of rage moved through his body that was so intense that it blasted from him, creating a snow flurry in the small space that dissipated quickly, but left the room looking like winter.
Once he’d let it out, he felt a little better. He kissed the ring again. He wasn’t ready to let go. He’d let her go. But he wasn’t ready to let the idea of them go. Something could still happen. He wasn’t counting on it, but he decided that he wouldn’t be rid of the ring or her until after he was in China for a few weeks. Somehow that thought comforted him.
It was over, but not yet…
***
Vincent was slow dancing with Marielle in his arms and he pulled back enough to smile down at her, his brown eyes sparkling. She grinned back and the two kissed. “I love you, Masin.”
“I love you, too.”
He rocked her, squeezing her tightly as if he’d never let her go. She pressed into him, wishing, hoping, praying that she could pass in. It didn’t happen, but that didn’t stop her from wanting it, and now more than ever.
She mentally distanced herself from Austin, tucking away everything that had anything to do with him until the time was right. She didn’t know when that was going to be, but certainly after he had gone to China, she would dispose of it all. The dress, the bear, the jewelry… the gift. No memories. She’d just let him go and remove him from everything.
She wondered in vain if that connection would survive. Would he come near to her someday and suddenly she’d hear his thoughts when she least expected it? Or would the time and distance actually cause it to sever? Maybe she’d never know. She told herself that she wouldn’t be contacting him ever again unless there was some sort of emergency after he left for China. Goodbye would be final. She wouldn’t have his number or location anyways.
Vincent gave her a deep, adoring smile that shone through his eyes, and spirit. “I understand,” he whispered tightening his arms around her.
“What do you understand?” she asked.
“That you so desperately want to create that bond with me now. Maybe someday you will be able to.”
“Did we try? In your world?”
“We tried, but we never pushed it. I let you guide most of our trials. I didn’t want you to feel impotent or-” he fought for a word, “-I won’t ever make you, or be mad at you that it didn’t happen. We never knew why it happened for you and Austin, but that doesn’t mean that it can only ever be with Austin.”
She bit her lip and looked away, “I know.” She played with the ring. “You remember what happened a few weeks ago,” she reminded.
He sighed and slipped to his knees, placing his cheek against her stomach below her breasts. “You do know that I don’t even a little bit deserve you, right?”
“I do. I’m trusting you when you say that you’re leaving this life behind to be with me.”
“I am, Masin. You are everything to me.” He turned his mouth to her abdomen and lifted her shirt a little, exposing her flesh where he began to place gentle kisses. “Tell me to dance, I’ll dance. Tell me to sing, I’ll sing. I’m yours, Masin.”
“Oh?” She purred, running her fingers through his brown hair, gently scratching his scalp. “We should talk… about – about how I’ve changed a little.” He narrowed his eyes at her curiously, but there was obvious interest. “I – Okay, I always thought that I wanted to be controlled in the bedroom, and I do… mostly. But…”
“You want to have control sometimes,” he finished for her.
She tried to hide a grin in her tucked lips. “Yeah.”
“I understand.” He stood and leaned into her face a little, gently kissing her temple, then breathing near her ear. His hot breath fanned against her skin. “Do you want to tie me up, Masin?” He whispered.
Her heart pounded. “Yeah,” she peeped. “Is that weird?” She cringed.
“Not at all,” he said with a smile against her ear. “It’s actually quite sexy.”
“So, you’d let me?”
He pulled back and feigned considering this notion. “Would I let the love of my life tie me up for purposes of pleasure…hmmm, let me think about this…” he teased. Her face turned red, and she avoided his gaze. “I don’t see a downside.” He grinned, and leaned in again. “You do know that those ropes will have to be very tight, though… I’m not exactly weak, love.” She knew this for a fact; his upper arms and chest were well sculpted. He teased and bit her lip between his. “And I have a difficult time controlling myself, when it comes to you.”
She smiled at him coyly, then straightened, “Shhhh,” she purred. “Be silent until I tell you to.” He lifted a challenging brow at you. “Oh, don’t like your own medicine?”
He raised a finger as if to say I’ll speak, but listen in a moment, “My love… I hush you so you can fully hear me. You are mine, and your thoughts are mine as well. It’s not because I want you to be quiet. I want to hear you…especially when you moan my name,” he groaned, pressing his lower half against her. “But since you request it, I will now be silent,” he purred, his body smashed against hers.
“You can say my name, only,” she said, and turning, she curled a finger, leading him to the bedroom.