Marquise

I have no idea how I am going to survive Marquise Roades. Honestly, I don't want to survive if I am being truthful. The need I have to be decimated by him is one I have no idea what it says about me, and I don’t care.Chapter FiveMarquiseDay TwoWhat the fuck am I thinking? I castigate myself mentally as I walk out of the room. My whole life I have worked to be the complete opposite of my birth father, after spending years watching my dad physically handle my mom. Berating her. Talking down to her. Making her feel as beneath him as he thought she was. I made a vow that when I finally fell in love, I would do the opposite. So, why then did my hand end up around her neck? My face in line with her neck, as I sniff the scent that is only her. Why then, did I want to put her on her knees and rub her cheeks and walk around her looking at her eyes, as they beg me to make her feel good? Shit. Who am I kidding? The biggest question is, why did she seem to want it too?

Walking out onto my balcony, I hang my head for a bit as I try to catch my breath and clear my head. “Good morning, Lanissa,” I say, answering my phone. Looking at the time, I can’t help but note how late in the morning it is for me. I forgot I have two phone calls, and I asked Lanissa to orchestrate clothes to be brought here for Chrissy so she can try them on.

“Sir. I am checking in. Did you still need the clothes brought to your place?” she asks, sounding a bit out of breath.

“Yes. Please have them brought as soon as possible. I have more to do. Is Mr. Griegyl ready for our call?”

“Yes, Sir. He is ready and so is his son, Justin. Are you sure you don't want me to come over to the house? I could make sure your… little... project gets what she needs.” It is taking everything inside me right now, not to lose my shit. Who the hell is she calling ‘little project?’

“No, Lanissa. I don’t need you here. Neither does my Goddess. You may clean out your desk and turn in your badge. Lorenzo will escort you out of the building. You have ten minutes.” I have never been one to bullshit and allow disrespect of any kind, and I am not about to start now. Especially when it pertains to the one brightness in the shadows that follows me.

“Sir… I… why... I mean... I didn't mean any…”

“That will be all.” I hang up not bothering with any further words. I find my time is better spent when less needs to be explained.

After hanging up, I find myself rattling my pockets trying to get my cock to go back down. My mind flashes to the look on her face when I had her by the throat. I can’t help but ask myself over and over if this is who I am? Shaking some of the fog off, I walk back into the house needing to check on her and let her know the plans for the next few hours.

I see Chrissy standing off to the side with her arms folded as she looks out the patio. Even from here, I can see something is bothering her. Everything in me wants to grab her, slam her against the wall, and demand she tell me what is wrong. I was put here to fix everything for her or anything threatening to shade her light. She just has to know it.

“What’s wrong, Goddess?” I ask walking closer to her. My hands twitch, calling for her skin to be beneath them. Asking, that I somehow bring them to her face and caress her pale creamy skin. Demanding, I find ways to bruise and mark her silky complexion. Leaving evidence and proof that she is indeed spoken for and tied down. As I take apart and put back together the inside of her pussy, laying my brand on her and most importantly inside of her.

Instead of answering me, her eyes convey sadness for a flicker of a moment before she replaces it with nonchalance. A disposition I am more than fluent in. I use it myself when I am trying to hide my plight. She shrugs and walks into the other room. I feel the desperation rising inside of me, as the need to have her acknowledge me every way possible becomes a virus. Lucky for her my phone rings.

“Mom,” I say, responding to the woman who rescued, nurtured, and taught me that love knows no color and has nothing to do with blood.

“My son. How are you? What have you been up to?” I smile knowing she is asking because I skipped the last dinner a couple of days ago, not willing to leave Chrissy after finally getting my hands on her. Knowing Baron, he probably ran his mouth. He always was a mama’s boy.