My wife will need rules. A schedule. Something to occupy her time until she is round with my child. I should be working on that now. Night and day, until I have made her mine in every sense of the word. But the longer she remains in the house, the more difficult it becomes to remember my control.
I don't know what I'm trying to prove by my absence. Is it for her benefit or mine?
I drown myself in my work, staring at the wall of monitors in my office, picking apart the data and scrutinizing it to death. Mercedes comes to me often, trying to wear me down with her questions.
Sleep doesn't come for me. Instead, I wander the halls of The Manor at night, pausing outside Ivy's door. More than once, I have stood there with my palm on the wood, considering our last conversation. I showed her my hand, and now she understands what I want.
Will she run the moment my back is turned? Will she stay and fight?
I truly don't know.
Tonight, finally, I give in and curve my fingers over the knob on her door. When I open it, I find her sitting in the chair by the fireplace, curled up into herself as she flips through the pages of a book. Upon hearing me enter, she glances up, her eyebrows pinching together when she sees me on the threshold. She’s pale, dark shadows cast beneath the fringe of her lower lashes. In place of her normally smooth hair, there is an unruliness that screams of her desperation. She is already unraveling in her captivity.
It feels as though it has been an eternity since our eyes last met. Does she feel it too?
She studies me, folding the book into her lap and waiting for me to announce my purpose.
"Starting tomorrow, you have my permission to access The Manor. Everywhere except the staff quarters, my office, and my bedroom."
She sits up slightly, the strap of her black nightgown falling down over the curve of her shoulder. "And what about the pool?"
"The pool is off-limits until your tattoo is healed. Two weeks at least."
She frowns at this but nods anyway.
"You'll need to get settled in here. Soon, we will be required to attend events together. Mercedes will be here to teach you what is expected of you. She will go over your schedule with you and show you around The Manor.”
Her eyes narrow. "And if I say no?"
"You know what happens if you say no." My fingers itch to reach out and grab her, and my cock is already hardening at the mere suggestion of her defiance.
She seems to consider my words carefully before shaking her head in frustration. "And what about school?"
"That part of your life is in the past. You're my wife now. You’ll spend your time doing something productive for The Society."
"Such as?"
"Such as bearing my children. Offering your assistance where it's required. And most importantly, pleasing me."
An expression of horror flashes across her face as she echoes those words. "Children?"
"Don't tell me you haven't even considered it," I mock her.
"But you said you wanted me dead."
Those words sound bitter repeated back to me. "Well, there is time for both."
She falls quiet, and I don't like it. I need her words, her thoughts.
"When can I see my sister?" she asks. "My father? When will I be able to visit my family?"
"If you behave this week, then you will be granted those privileges accordingly."
She stiffens as my unspoken threat settles over her, but after some consideration, she seems to come to a silent conclusion as determination steels her eyes.
"Fine. I'll do what you ask as long as I can see my father and Evangeline this week."
Her insistence on seeing that scum grates at me. But a deal is a deal. If she wants it, she will have to earn it.
"Come here."
She rises from the chair slowly, her legs stiff as she takes her first step. I shake my head and point at the floor.
"On your knees."
Her jaw hardens, and she hesitates, silently considering if it's worth it. Then she lowers herself to her knees and begins to crawl.
The sight of her submission is so enticing, it takes more restraint than necessary to wait until she's before me to wrap my fingers in her hair and tug her face up. I rub the erection in my slacks against her cheek, and she closes her eyes with an agonized sound in her throat.
"I hope your visit will be worth it." I slide the delicate straps of her nightgown down until it slips over her arms and bares her breasts to me.
Nothing would please me more than to watch her struggle to take my cock in her mouth. But that will have to wait for another time.
Unzipping my slacks, I tug my length free, and she peeks up at the monstrosity bobbing in front of her face with wide eyes.
"Stroke it," I command, my fingers tightening in her hair. "Stroke it until my come covers your breasts. And if I am satisfied, then I will consider your request."
She reaches up and wraps her palm around me, and I shut my eyes, relaxing into her touch. I told her she would have to earn it, and she does. With every firm slide of her hand, she earns another piece of my shattered restraint.
Gripping and sliding, she indulges me with her palm unlike anyone ever has before. In my mind, I know women have done this for me. But I can’t seem to recall another time, another face. Only hers. And when I explode across her chest, the undeniable evidence of my pleasure dripping down over her tits, the deal is done. But the humiliation does not feel adequate when she looks up at me with soft, hooded eyes. So, I drag my fingers through the liquid adorning her skin and smear it across her lips, forcing her to lick my fingers clean. Only then do I concede in granting her what she wants.
"One visit to start," I tell her as I tuck my cock back into my trousers. “The rest we will determine based on your performance.”
22
Ivy
The next morning, I’m already dressed when Antonia arrives with my breakfast. She’s been the only thing keeping me from going mad in this room the past few days. I only know how long it’s been because I am marking days on a piece of paper inside the desk. I started the second day when she brought me breakfast. It’s silly maybe but keeping me locked up in here, even for just these three days, is taking its toll.
I need to swim. To move. I need to see sunshine. Open a window. That little square of light isn’t doing it, and besides, it’s been raining. I swear it feels like it always rains at this house.
But he said I’d get to see my dad today. And I feel like Santiago is a man who keeps his word.
I close the tube of salve I’ve been instructed to put on my tattoo and am up as soon as the door opens, the pain on the bottoms of my feet finally gone. That was two strokes. How had he taken more? What had he said when his back had been crisscrossed? When his feet opened up when he walked?
God. Is that how his father punished him? What a horrible man. Yet he has a photograph of him on the chapel altar.
I don’t understand my husband. He’s a complete mystery.
“Good morning, dear,” Antonia says cheerily, although I always notice that little bit of concern when she comes in here in the mornings and shifts her gaze nervously around the room, looking me over. I wonder what she’s looking for. A noose maybe. After only three days, I’m ready to hang myself, but I don’t need rope for that. I’m pretty sure I could hang myself on the end of this rosary that’s nestled against my bare skin. I’ve got it tucked under my sweater, and I’ve only taken it off to shower and sleep.