Chapter Eight
Silas stood under the shower in the ensuite of his guest room and amazed himself that he didn’t go back to his room, break the door down, tie her to a chair and whip her ass until she acknowledged he was in charge.
He didn’t because that would mean touching her. Being close enough to her to smell her and have his cock hardened with her stubbornness, the only solution was to bury it so deep inside her, his head touched her cervix, and she would beg him that he couldn’t go any deeper without breaking her but at the same time also exploding from a violent orgasm around his cock.
She would never know that he had without pretense smiled at her little handwritten note stuck to the door of his bedroom when he had got home after eleven that night.
Her boldness in taking him on, aware there could have been painful consequences to follow her disobedient actions, had his blood pumping hot and furious for her.
His cock ached and his suffering hurt his fucking balls. He gripped his heavy erect flesh and pumped, but nothing measured up to the feeling of her textured walls, breathing him in so tightly he lost his mind, holding him there, so wet the tip of his cock could feel her pooling arousal.
He wasn’t a teenager anymore. He didn’t fucking try and masturbate in the bathroom while thinking about a girl he wanted. He was thirty-two years old, a mafia boss, and someone who knew at least ten silent ways to kill a man with his bare hands. He was unafraid, ruthless but stealthy, cunning but quiet. And the girl was his wife, asleep in his bedroom after she had kicked him out with all his clothes.
Had she been anyone else, Silas would have exacted his punishment on her immediately. But then someone else wouldn’t have dared to stand up to him this way. It was almost as if she wasn’t afraid of him when he had made it amply clear she should be. He also didn’t know why he was letting her get away with such an infraction.
It didn’t help that he’d been requested by Everleigh, who had improved a little again since her last turn to bring Arabelle to their house. And what Everleigh wanted Parker made sure happened.
But Arabelle had to know he wasn’t going to let his new sleeping situation last forever. He would give her a few more days, he had that much to spare before he took her again, parted her soft shapely legs, and fucked her pussy until he came so deep inside her, he’d empty his seed far up her enough that her chances of becoming pregnant would be marginally increased.
That was what Davenport wanted.
Silas’ child in her belly, the final obligation before he delivered that one name, then at the same time binding Arabelle to him for all of her eternity and beyond. He would own her in every life, in every universe. The mother of his child. The girl who wanted to hate him. The woman whose body quaked beneath his, opened up to him, flowered for him, and changed his life.
Davenport knew what he was doing. He was protecting his daughter. And as long as she carried his child she would have that protection. Without his seed growing in her belly, Davenport also knew she was as easy collateral as he was if he didn’t deliver on his promise of a name.
~~~***~~~
Arabelle determined to have a normal day, running the errands she normally did on a Wednesday, donned a pair of jeans after her shower then met Alice for breakfast. But nothing prepared her for meeting the over seven-foot gigantic man talking animatedly to Alice.
“Mrs. K. This is Jurgen Bastian and he’s your bodyguard.”
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mrs. K,” the man said jovially and extended his hand. Confused, Arabelle shook his massive hand all she felt was comforting warmth.
“Bodyguard?” she managed to murmur.
“Indeed. Now don’t be fooled by this friendly mug shot here. I’ve known Mr. K since the day he was born and I would give my life to protect anything of his.”
“I’m… not his,” she said then shook her head. That was beside the point. “I don’t think I need a bodyguard although it was so nice to meet you, Mr. Bastion.”
“Just Jurgen, Mrs. K, and don’t worry about me, I can blend into the air, you won’t even know I’m there.”
Arabelle glanced at Alice. “Do I have a choice?”
“Have you met Silas,” she replied, raising her eyebrows but there was a smile on her face.
She insisted that she was going to get a cab to take her home to get her own car and that was the only thing she would be traveling in, not the massive SUV in which Jurgen was meant to drive her around.
She had to admit she was surprised when the bodyguard agreed and they both took the cab together. She insisted on driving herself and Jurgen good-naturedly took the passenger seat next to her. He had to send her seat right back to give him leg space but he didn’t utter a word of complaint.
Once at the house in which she had grown up, she spent some time talking to her father, cleaned out the kitchen, prepared some meals, and added items to a shopping list that she would pick up next week.
She then met her friends for milkshakes and told them bits and pieces. They looked at her suspiciously but she assured them she was going to make it work. What she didn’t tell them was the only way her marriage would work was if they were divorced.
She then went shopping and visited her old friend, Jeanny. Jeanny Smith had been her mother’s oldest friend. She was an eccentric older woman now and loved to hoard things. She was on medication and it cost her savings to maintain. Arabelle tried her best to help her. She made Jeanny promise that the kitchen, her bedroom, and bathroom were non-hoarding areas but she could collect whatever she wanted for the spare room. It’s been five years and Jeanny had kept her promise to her to keep those three areas tidy.
She unpacked the groceries she bought for Jeanny, which she paid for out of her own pocket, prepared a few meals that she froze, and then played a game of chess with Jeanny.
Throughout all her errands, even to the library, Jurgen had remained completely invisible to the point that she had forgotten she had a bodyguard.