Education of Simon Lane Page 4
“I have to go, Simon.” Her voice quivered, and Simon figured she was crying, too. Good. He found a semblance of satisfaction in the sound, a small gauge of happiness, and a miniscule measure of hope.
“One more minute, please, Lilly. Just give me a minute.” He cleared his throat and waited for the dreaded sound of dead air in his ear. But it didn’t come. She was holding on just as he was. Then it happened, the sight he dreaded - the old bastard’s image flashed before Simon’s eyes, sobering him instantly. The evil, ugly, decomposing image of his father was always with him.
You’re going to fuck her over again, you little shit?
“Life has a way of throwing you curve balls.” Simon’s eyelids dropped.
“Oh yeah; I chose Indianapolis because it’s close to the places I think of as home. I was tired of running from…from everything. I never thought being brave would cause such pain.”
“I shouldn’t have called. I never meant to cause you heartache.”
“Simon, you’re not hurting me.” And there it was. Lilly was crying softly, he heard it in her voice. He sat up in his seat. He had to end this, hang up, walk away, and leave her alone. He would not be the catalyst for any more of her tears.
“Can I tell you something, Lilly?”
She was silent for a moment, sans the occasional sniffling. Finally, she murmured a response. “What?”
“I loved you right from the start, Lilly. From the very beginning, the first time I saw you. I wanted to be in your heart. I didn’t think anything could break us apart, nothing, ever. But…I did it, Lilly. I fucked up so bad. I did it, Lilly.”
“Simon —”
“No…listen to me baby. Please. I tore us up. I…I fucked up so bad, and I made you suffer because of a stupid, stupid decision and a reprehensible action. I know that. And Lilly…” He expelled a breath and steadied himself, felt the need and urge to slam his fist into the dashboard.
“I’m listening, Simon.”
“I won’t bother you again. I want you so badly…I will always, always want you, Lilly. I learned my lesson, and I know what I have to do. It kills me, but I know. Millicent…it’s not the same as you and I. I love you Lilly. I always will. So…I won’t hurt you again, because I love you that much. I can’t and I won’t bother you again. I won’t bother you again. I promise.”
“Oh, Simon,” Lilly moaned.
“Thank you for listening. Thank you baby, thank you.”
“Simon —”
“Good bye, baby, and be happy.” Simon pressed end and pitched the cell phone aside. He flung his head forward, connecting with the steering wheel, and cried. He couldn’t give a fuck about any passing car that might see him; he couldn’t give a fuck about anything or anyone at that moment.
He was dead inside.
Lilly tossed the phone aside and lay back on her bed. She drew her legs up and clasped her hands around her knees. Of all the things he’d said, of all the things she’d said, one phrase came to mind, shot through her like a rocket: Who would have thought being brave would cause such pain?
“I was talking about your pain, baby, I wasn’t thinking about me.” She curled into a fetal position and cried for the second time in her short life for the man she loved, a man she loved to hate, because he could not bring himself to do one simple thing—trust in her love for him.
Simon would always refuse to trust her love.
Chapter Four
Ten years earlier
“God, Simon… more…please, Simon.” She was breathless as he ran his fingers along the crevice of her need, his thumb pressed against the engorged bud. She moaned, and her body shuddered, just as he knew it would when his tongue replaced his fingers and lapped at the juices that flowed like honey. He was in heaven.
“Untie me Simon, please,” she begged. “I need to touch you, too.”
He paused and looked up at her. He contemplated untying her, teetering between the image of fucking that gorgeous mouth of hers or ramming his rock-hard dick in her ass and not stopping until he had spilled every single drop of his seed into her.
He leaned back on his haunches and took in the beauty of his Lilly, bound. For Simon, it was always one of the greatest visual pleasures. Her arms were trussed with a specially made rope that hung from the ceiling in their bedroom—their playroom. This particular morning, Simon and Lilly decided not only would her hands be bound, but one foot as well. Only one of her stilettos barely touched the ultra plush carpet covering the huge room. This was done not only for her pleasure, but for Simon’s safety.
“Sorry baby, I have to protect myself.”
“I thought we agreed to never mention that unfortunate accident.”
“Accident!” He laughed as he worked frantically securing her foot. “The last time you hung from the ceiling with those fuck-me shoes, I nearly lost an eye when you came.” He stood slowly, enticing her senses with his touch. He murmured low against her ear, “I went to work sporting a bruise that was hard to explain.”
Her scent was an aphrodisiac and mixed perfectly with the aroma from the ocean that breezed in through the opened sliding glass doors. To him, the vision before him, the smells, and the sound of sea gulls that gathered every morning on the beach were better than front row seats to a Beatles reunion, with John Lennon raised from the dead.
Lilly was the perfect submissive. She was always in tune to her own needs, always willing and ready to fulfill his. He reached up, stroked her flawlessly formed abdomen, and slowly ran his rough calloused fingers toward the beauty of her breast, lingering on the most exquisite nipples known to man. No matter where they were, what they were doing, who they were with, all Simon had to do was focus on that part of her anatomy, and like now, her nipples would poke out, begging to be loved, to be tasted.
He pinched one and then the other, watching her squirm from his touch. He pulled the emerald nipple ring he had presented to her to mark their six months together. The matching necklace—his version of a collar—lay nestled between her breasts. She was in all ways his perfect woman, mate, and companion. He couldn’t fathom anyone other than her by his side.
He stroked his member slowly, drawing out the experience, heightening his arousal to a pitch that would be explosive when released. Squeezing his shaft painfully hard, Simon gritted his teeth as he watched her head loll from side to side in ecstasy. The pale pink silk scarf he’d covered her eyes with earlier slid along her unmarred, beautiful brown skin.
He loved the way her flesh glistened in the early morning light. He loved the way his pale body came to life just from looking at her. He loved her, period. As his need amplified and demanded release, Simon carefully considered his next move. What devilish, pleasure-pain action he would deliver to his more-than-willing slave? He wanted to fuck her as desperately as Lilly’s movements conveyed her urgency to be fucked. But he knew he couldn’t. Not yet.
She had made a grievous error.
Intentionally, he was sure—she enjoyed a firm spanking—but an error nonetheless, and he had to address it first. If not, he’d be remiss in his obligation to her as Master. And under no circumstances would he ever disappoint Lilly, fall short of her expectations, or leave her wanting for anything.
Lilly was Simon’s life.
“Simon, please baby…let me loose. Please, Simon,” she moaned. He smiled at the pout on her face. It was a ruse. Oh yeah, she had deliberately neglected her duties as his slave. He knew what Lilly wanted, what Lilly needed.
“You didn’t say, ‘Sir.’” He enunciated each word deliberately; then, bringing the point home, Simon slapped one of her ass cheeks while gently palming and caressing the other.
“Twice,” he uttered harshly; then he delivered a second and a third stinging blow to her buttocks. Her head fell back and she exhaled a low, bewitching, guttural sound that caused his balls to draw up.
Turning her ninety degrees, he massaged her burning cheeks and pressed his lips against the warm flesh before embedding his teeth in the p
lump, ripe skin. This time there was no doubt to the pleasure her body was feeling. The words she uttered shot his control all to hell.
“Please, Simon…Please!” she purred. His Lilly actually purred, and with her free foot, she planted that three-inch heel into the flesh of his trembling thigh.
“Dangerous girl,” Simon said. He grabbed her foot and flung it back. “Lucky you’re attached to the ceiling, or I imagine I’d be wearing claw marks on my back. Simmer down, baby. Simon’s going to give you what we both want.”
She called out his name several times, her body tensed and her back arched as he swirled her once more, mindful of the restraint at her ankle. His mouth descended, covering her hairless mound. This time there was no moan, only a mindless, wail that rang through the room. His fingers dug into her ass cheeks, forcing her more firmly onto his tongue. His mouth fed; his teeth nipped.
The orgasm that ripped through her was so fierce, Simon was forced to release her. The palm of his hand landed flat on the floor to maintain his balance. His fingers snaked around her free ankle, and with the one hand, he delivered a smack to her backside.
“I did not tell you to come.” He smacked her ass again. “You come when I say and only when I say. Understand?” Simon was a master at delivering such exquisite pain, such undeniable pleasure. Her orgasm continued—he recognized the signs. Her pleasure mounted, spurred to frenzy by the spankings. It was so intense, so completely enthralling that she was not aware of him releasing her bound ankle or the sudden movement of him standing. With expert precision, he released her from the restraints. Before she had a chance to protest, his month descended on hers, invading, taking all she had with one single pounding kiss.
“Arms and legs around me, now. Right fucking now, Lilly.” He instructed in a strained voice and she complied readily with greediness and a hunger that he had grown addicted to.
He backed her against the bedroom wall and drove into her without hesitation. Simon knew the force of his entry, coupled with the rigidness of the wall, simply added to her pleasure. Damn she was tight, and wet, and she swallowed him whole.
Balls deep, he drove forward, slamming into her, ignoring the pain that sliced into his hands that held her steadily against him. She held on for dear life with her arms locked around his shoulders, her long legs clasped firmly about his waist. To hell with being politically correct, he liked a woman with a little body—not anorexia thin, but small and fucking bendable in all the right places.
She had bemoaned the years she was forced by her parents to participate in gymnastics, but Simon secretly thanked them. She could take on the most shocking and difficult of positions described in the Kama Sutra and had even created some crazy ones of her own.
She was a freak, and she was all his—no way in hell would he let her go, he thought as he steadily drove into her with the mindset of a Cro-Magnon man. He teetered on the brink of coming with a mind-shattering eruption he’d grown used to, but never got enough of. Simon moved Lilly and allowed her the freedom to be herself in and out of bed. In their playroom, he encouraged her masochistic tendencies, her submissive personality, and all around freaky-in-the-bedroom demands. He knew he would kill to keep her and would defy heaven and hell to make her one hundred percent his—nothing short of a legally binding marriage would do.
She had curves in the right places. Breasts that fit perfectly in the palms of his hand, a tight little fuck-me-and-lay-me-to-rest ass, and those strong, endlessly long legs were all Nirvana to Simon. Especially those legs; they could break a fucking stallion. More than anything else, Simon enjoyed long legs wrapped around his midsection squeezing him until he begged for mercy.
“Fuck yeah, baby…Break my back, love. Fuck yeah…tighter, Lilly baby…tighter. Baby, you’re so wet, and you feel so damn fucking good, Lilly.”
“Shut up and just fuck me, Simon.”
So he did.
He fucked her as if his life depended on it—which it did. Lilly was his life.
He fucked her because it made her happy. From day one, she told him that the only thing she liked vanilla was her men and ice cream.
He fucked her to give her pleasure. The few times he attempted to make sweet, romantic hearts-and-flowers love to her had ended in unmitigated disaster—she did not come, and neither did he.
He fucked her because at that moment, and every moment for the rest of his life, his one and only desire, the key to his happiness, was giving her everything he had and every part of him.
So he fucked her, and eventually, they both came.
Several days later, Simon arrived home with a determination to finalize one of many changes he set into motion regarding his Lilly. She had given so much to him. Simon’s goal was to make sure everything Lilly wanted, he provided. He smiled at his reflection in the hall mirror and loosened his tie. A momentary feeling of panic stabbed him.
“Murphy’s Law…” he spoke softly and then shrugged it off. “Not this time. No way. Everything is going to work out this time.”
What could go wrong? Tonight was special, and nothing would interfere with his plans. Things were finally falling into place, and for once, he had the world in the palm of his hand. He tossed the tie aside and felt in his pocket for the small, gift-wrapped box, squeezed it for luck, and called out to Lilly.
“In here,” she answered, turning to meet his gaze. Simon paused in the doorway and stared at her. The picture of absolute perfection sent a shiver down his spine. Moving across their living room, he returned her smile. He knelt over her, claiming her parted lips with his own, hungry for her taste.
“Hi,” Lilly whispered between kisses. Simon towered above her, gently pressing kisses on her face before he released her and eased down onto the carpet beside her. She had a fire going and a glass of white wine in her hand.
“Hi yourself,” he said. This was the life he had fantasized about, and she was the saint he had prayed for as a boy.
“Do you want one?” She reached for the bottle of wine and a glass she had strategically placed not far from her reach. “Here you go.” She handed him the drink.
“Thanks.” He took a sip.
“Did you have a hard day, baby?” Lilly snuggled against him.
“Not at all; it was productive, actually.” Simon sat his glass down and turned to her. “What about you, anything interesting happen with you today?’
“Mary Davidson of Mary Davidson Architecture and Design called me. I have an interview with her, Simon!”
“Who?” Simon looked at her blankly, feigning ignorance.
“I’ve only talked about working for her company for weeks, now.” She playfully slapped his shoulder. “Or weren’t you paying attention?”
“Oh, I remember now. That’s wonderful. And you did it without my help. Of course, I knew you would. Congratulations baby. But now that your foot is in the front door, let me give you a nudge. You know Parker was married to Mary’s daughter. If you like, I can have him put in a word —”
“Absolutely not,” she exclaimed. “What I said before still stands. I need to do this on my own. I grew up having everyone take care of me as if I were brainless. You believe in me Simon, and that is just one of the reasons I love you. You let me spread my wings and fly. You have no idea what that means to me.”
“Okay, okay,” Simon raised his hands in surrender. “I’ll stay out of it.” He tugged her compliant body against his broad chest and stroked her arm. Again, he thought about the plans he had set into motion. The best-laid plans sometimes backfired. His secret maneuverings to get Lilly the job of her dreams had better remain secret, or he’d suffer the consequences.
He reached into his pocket and retrieved the little gold box he had picked up from the jeweler’s on his way home. Simon held it out to her, carefully gauging her reactions and quelling the fear of possible rejection. The look of utter shock in her eyes spurred him into action.
“Marry me, Lilly,” he demanded. Regretting the severity and harshness of proposal, he h
urriedly added, “Please, Lilly Rouilard, please say yes and be my wife. I need you always, Lilly.”
“Oh my God, Simon,” she whispered.
“Will you?”
“Oh my God!” Her fingers snaked out and grabbed the box, and she stared down at the contents.
“Does that mean yes?”
“Are you kidding? Of course it means yes. Oh my God!” Lilly flung her arms around Simon and then pulled back quickly.
Thrusting the ring at him she said, “Put it on me.”
“I want to do this quickly, sooner rather than later.” He placed the giant rock on her finger and watched her. She reminded him of a child on Christmas morning admiring a coveted gift.
“I didn’t think it was possible for this day to get better! Oh Simon, it fits perfectly.” Lilly stretched her arm and flexed her ring finger to in awe of the giant bauble. The stone glittered in the glow of the fireplace.
“We fit perfectly, Lilly. Thank you for not giving up on me.” He caressed her cheek.
“You’re a good person, Simon. I wish you could see what I see, how wonderful you are, and how much happiness you really give me.”
“Hold me,” he asked. Without waiting, Simon gathered her in his arms and relaxed slightly in her grasp, never wanting to let her go. Despite her firm grip, a part of him was fearful that she might.
“I’ve dreamed of this from the first moment I saw you. You’re sexy, smart, and handsome. Of all the women, you chose me. I am unequivocally the luckiest and happiest woman in the world.”
“You make me happy, Lilly,” he said. “I didn’t have that until I met you.” Simon burrowed closer, deeper into her embrace, and inhaled her scent, letting it wash over him, relaxing his body and his mind.
“Don’t do this Simon. Don’t get all melancholy on me tonight. Let the past go, baby. I wish you believed me…I wish there were some way I could make you understand your happiness is not predicated on my feelings for you, but rests in your ability to love yourself. I learned that lesson in life the hard way. I wish you’d let go of your demons, Simon and just love me for me and not for what I do for you or how I make you feel.”