Alice looked at him, then at me. This was turning her on, I could see it in her gaze. She was willing, perhaps even enjoying the attention. She trusted me to engineer the scene, to make everything okay. She was fine.
But I wasn’t fine. My fists clenched at my sides.
Fort appeared, jolting me from my frozen moment of fury. He touched Alice—barely—running a hand along her side. “She looks beautiful, man,” he said in a quiet voice. “How’s everything going?”
I forced my gritted teeth to part. “Not so good.”
“Juliet and I could join you two if you like, and shoulder out some of the others. Or would you rather go?”
I stared at Fort a moment, thought about the cane I wanted to fetch, the way I wanted to hurt Alice and then hold her close to me. In my mind’s eye, it was just her and me. I didn’t want anyone else to touch her.
I couldn’t let anyone else touch her.
“I don’t think I can do this.” My voice sounded hoarse.
“Hey, man, it’s okay. I’ll help you unbind her.”
“No, I can do it.”
“Great.” He turned away, looking toward the small group that had gathered. He didn’t say anything; his expression was sufficient to make them back off. He left too, so it was just me and Alice, and my trembling fingers unbinding her.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Why are we stopping?”
Her eyes looked a little shiny, and her voice wavered. Please don’t cry. Don’t be upset. I’m the one who can’t do this.
“Let’s go back down to my place,” I said. “I’d rather play there.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Rene made no comment when we emerged from the ivory door a mere fifteen minutes after we’d entered it. He got my coat and then Alice’s coat, and chose not to react when I snatched it from his fingers, unwilling to let even him approach my woman. I knew I was being ridiculous. The Gallery was a place for sharing. That was why a lot of people joined up here, when they could have just played at home. It was a place for reveling jointly in shared, perverse sexuality.
But not with Alice. Nope. I thought I could handle sharing her, but it wasn’t going to work.
Chapter Eighteen: Alice
The look on Milo’s face worried me. That fact that he wouldn’t look at me scared me to my soul. We rode down on the elevator without words. I wanted to reach for his hand, but I didn’t know if he’d take it or push it away. It wasn’t until we entered his apartment that he turned to me and let out a sigh.
“I’m sorry, baby. I know you wanted to play there.”
I studied him, trying to understand his mood. He was like an alarm about to go off. I took a step closer, holding his gaze. “Well, why can’t we? What did Fort say? What happened up there?”
“What happened?” His gaze darted around the room before it fixed back on me. “What happened is that I’m in love with you. Not friendship love. Not new relationship love in the blush of spring. Not kinky love, where I can take you to The Gallery and share you. I’m hardcore, freaked-out in love with you. I’m in love with you to the point that it’s…it’s changing who I am.”
He forced out the last words. My heart beat fast and hard with excitement—he was really in love with me—but he didn’t seem like he was handling it very well. “What do you mean, it’s changing who you are? You seem the same to me, Milo.”
“No, I’m changing.” He stalked away from me, took off his suit jacket and threw it over the couch with enough force to wake Blue from his lazy-dog slumber. He looked up at us, his liquid eyes curious. Milo gave him a quick pat, then turned back to me. “I’ve always been a man unto myself, Alice. I loved you from far away, and nothing had to change. Now I can’t sleep without you beside me. I can’t let you play any violin but the one I made for you. I can’t let anyone else touch you. When that guy touched you…” His voice had been rising, but now it fell to a near whisper. “Jesus, I wanted to break his neck. And I’m not like that. With me, it’s always been share and share alike.” His gaze pinned me with hot fervor. “But I can’t share you.”
“You don’t have to share me. There’s nothing wrong with that. And there’s nothing wrong with changing.” I crossed to Blue’s bed and crouched to stroke his ears. “Look at Blue here. He used to run around a track while people bet on him. Now he only wakes up to eat or be petted. He’s still a wonderful boy, even though he’s changed a lot.” I leaned down and touched my nose to his. “Aren’t you, Bluebeard? You’re still our sweet little villain, killing all your wives.”
“Huh?”
I glanced at Milo. “Didn’t you look up the legend of Bluebeard after you adopted him? It’s pretty grisly. There’s a secret dungeon in the story, and lots of dead wives. Not sure I’d accept a marriage proposal from you,” I joked, addressing the dog again. But Blue was easy to face, and to joke with. Milo, not so much.
“Are you angry?” I asked, still uncertain of his mood.
“No, I’m not angry. I’m just unsettled.”
“Unsettled. That’s a good word.” I stood and drew my coat closer around me, pulling at the tie that held it closed. “I just want to be what you want, Milo. I was interested in playing at The Gallery, but if you don’t want to…”
“It’s not that I don’t want to. I want to be there with you, to teach you things and show you off to everyone, but I can’t, because I can’t follow the rules anymore. I can’t stand for you to be communal property.” He reached behind my neck to unbuckle my collar, and showed me the lock. “I designed this Property of the Gallery shit, but with you and me, it’s not going to work.”
“Well, what does that mean for us?” I took his hand before he wrenched off the lock. “What do you want more? Being with me, or keeping your life the way it was before? Loving me…” It hurt to say the next words. “Or loving me from a distance? I’m the one who pressed you for this relationship, but if you truly don’t want it, that’s also okay.”
He stared at me like I was speaking some other language. “I could never go back to loving you from a distance, not now that you’ve been so close.”
“Good.” I ran my fingers down the front of his tie. “Because as long as you want me, I’ll be here, even if you have to…well…change a little bit.” I looked up at him from beneath my lashes. “But will you still hurt me? Can you still make me cry so you can kiss it better? Cause there’s a dungeon right here,” I reminded him, gesturing toward the hall. “Maybe we can go there, and you can bind me up again with my legs spread wide, because I love that side of you, Milo Fierro, and I always will.”
He seemed to snap out of whatever dread or anxiety held him. He reached out to me, pulling at the coat’s sash. “Yes. Let’s go to the dungeon. Let’s pick up where we left off.”
“I’d like that,” I said, happiness filling my voice.
We went down the hall to his L-shaped chamber, which wasn’t as large or busy as The Gallery, but every bit as thrilling, because he was there. As we paused inside the door, his dark gaze roved my body like a caress.
“I want to hurt you so much,” he said, and I knew what he really meant was I love you so much. Now that we were here, alone, the nervous edge had left his movements. He crossed back and forth, gathering what he needed and placing it beside a rack that was very similar in design to the one he’d put me on at The Gallery. Cuffs, clover clamps, spreader bar, lube, and a thin rattan cane. It didn’t look like much equipment, but I knew what he could do with them.
“Let’s get you in the right headspace before we begin. Kneel down,” he said in his commanding Dom voice.
As he undid his pants, I fell to my knees, opening my lips to accept his already-hardening cock. Since we’d gotten STD tests done, we didn’t use condoms for oral anymore. I loved having the warm, natural taste of him in my mouth, rather than the chemical taste of latex. When he shoved deep, making me gag, it didn’t seem quite so bad.
I still cried, though. I was working on my deep throating skills,
but I wasn’t the best at it yet. Milo made encouraging sounds when I choked, and kept me at my task by grasping my crown of braids. After a few minutes, my hair started coming down, and he released me so I could catch my breath. He took off his pants and fisted his scary-hard cock, as I collected the hairpins from the floor.
“Give them to me,” he said, then looked at one a little too closely. “I wonder how this would feel attached to your clit?”
I wiped at the tears his hard facefucking had dislodged, and clamped my legs together. I didn’t think it would feel good at all. I watched in dismay as he inspected the bobby pin’s edges. “These are coated, so they don’t have sharp edges. Lie back for me, Alice, and open your legs.”
Shit, shit, shit. He knelt between my legs and ran his hands up my silken stockings, then down to my stilettos.