Their Tangled Lust by Catherine Tramell

Kelly

 

Her husband? Not Elijah?

I should be relieved that Allyson is not thinking about Elijah, but a fit of jealousy remains in my heart. Tiny beads of sweat form on Allyson's face as her body releases her heat. I can feel it seeping into my pores. Her face glows despite her disrupted climax. Her lips have turned into a darker shade of pink from biting them.

My thighs still throb from the sight of her masturbating before my eyes. Her body is magical. Her skin has a porcelain finish because her slightly dark tone hides her pores. I hate her, but I can’t stop admiring her beauty.

Tatiana told me that I’m playing a risky game. Allyson could have a hidden agenda towards my husband, and she could use it to ruin my marriage. I tried to heed my friend’s advice and asked Delilah to show me other prospects. No one interests me other than Allyson. I want her. I want to punish her. For what? I don't know. But as my slave, I can ruin her, so that she won't think about wanting a man like my husband.

“It seems that you know each other,” Delilah concludes. I look at Allyson and explain that she works for me. One of Delilah’s eyebrows rises while she shows a quirky smile. “Are you sure you would like someone who knows you?”

“I chose her for that reason. She already works for me. I don’t have to create alibis just to meet her,” I explain.

Allyson is still full of disbelief. Why wouldn't she? Who would think that a woman with a loving husband like me would keep a dark secret? Two secrets. One. I enjoy watching people suffer from abuse. Two. I am bisexual.

“I just want to be sure that you will uphold your end of the deal,” I warn Delilah.

The woman smiles confidently at me. There’s something about the way she looks at me – as if she knows another secret other than what I’m keeping. She looks at Allyson and shakes her head a little. Like Delilah has something to be in disbelief of Allyson, too.

"Our popular Allyson has her own personal reasons to keep her end," Delilah turns to me with another quirky smile. She gives Allyson a warning look. "She wouldn't want us to make use of her son as another reason. Isn't that right, Allyson?"

Allyson turns pale at Delilah’s question. Another streak of pity whips my heart. Elijah must be telling the truth when he gave Allyson’s baby a gift. She’s doing all of this for her son. I look at Allyson’s trembling hands. A protective desire possessed me, making me want to hold her in my arms and assure her that no harm will come to her son.

I smile secretly inside. Now I understand what Elijah felt when he met Allyson. The girl possesses some sort of magic. She makes somebody want to erase the pain of her past and shield her from the pain to come.

But I'm not somebody who saves people from pain. I'm the one who inflicts it. Why would I protect somebody when no one did it for me? Even Elijah couldn't do it. I don't blame him for not having the strength and bravery to save me from Nicholas and his goons. But sometimes, I wish he could have.

Allyson chose to be a slave. To feel the pain. Maybe she's like Tatiana and she'll become stronger from the pain. But it's not my problem. My only concern is for her to never get closer to Elijah. My husband has a soft spot for women who need help. And with the magic Allyson possesses, Elijah might do more than just help her.

“You’ll be under her beck and call but only for three hours a day,” Delilah explains to Allyson. “You’ll be her property for 100 days.”

“I will require you to free your Tuesdays and Thursdays,” I add. “But when I want to, I will take you whenever I want. Understand?”

Allyson nods with her eyes quivering. Delilah gives me a key card. “You can take her to any room today. But this is the VIP room reserved for my co-owner.”

I roll my eyes at the older woman. Use their filthy rooms? I look at Allyson’s body. I’ll have a lot of time to play with her curves. “I prefer my own dungeon.”

Delilah gives me a side grin and points me to the door. She turns to Allyson and says, “Poor girl. You’re tangled in your masters’ lusts.”

I stop and look at Delilah upon hearing her words. She looks at me indifferently while Allyson gives her a perplexed one. The old woman shrugs her shoulders and leads me out of the small viewing room. I look back at Allyson, and she catches my eyes. Fear. I never had somebody look at me like that.

My heart stops for a moment when her beauty astounds me. She has a strange beauty that glows better when she’s afraid or on the verge of crying. I hate her. She’s making me crazy. I will enjoy watching her pitiful face when I enslave her, but I begin to worry that I will feel not only pity for her. I might want to protect her – something I’ve failed – no – I’ve never tried before.

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