Ocean Of Need

💛 32 🗡️🔥 Baptism

6th May Cont...

I can't just sit here pretending to be OK. But I'm too scared to do anything else. All the time he's sitting at his easel painting, I know he's thinking about the video he just watched of me playing around with two other people less than twenty-four hours ago.

What was I thinking? But I wasn't thinking, that's the whole point, and it was Roxy who gave me that last blue pill. My legs did turn to jelly. I did feel like my mind was floating away. All the things that he described, are all the things my body felt.

Did Roxy do that deliberately? Give me something so that I wouldn't make decisions in the way I would normally make decisions? Would I have done what I did in the cage if I hadn't taken that pill? Or would I have remembered Mac's face, heard his words in my head telling me, "You're mine"?

If I hadn't taken that little blue pill, would I have panicked in the cage and backed back out? Walked down the stairs and got myself into a cab home? Or would I have done exactly what I did?

Is falling into the vibration of desire, with two other people I hardly know something I would normally do? Actually, it's not. Threesomes have never been my thing. All that mixed chemistry of emotions. I can just about handle one other person's emotions. That's why I've always had a Daddy or a Sir. I crave is intense intimacy. Intense emotion. Being the favourite, the chosen one, and choosing one other to adore, even as they destroy me, even as I am left to build myself anew.

I don't do multiples. I want a relationship where I am the sub and my partner is the dom, and nothing and no one can shake us. Where we have each other's backs, where we protect each other. I kind of had it with Jameson, but it was different to this, to me and Mac. In some ways Jameson's the father I never had. Caring, nurturing, proud. He can dominate a situation when he wants to, but he was happy for me to fly free. Never jealous and always proud .

But Mac, he needs me to be his and I am needy to be his. This constant ache I have for him when he's not here, that's all part of it. Part of my desperate desire for him. He does own every part of me now. I should be running in the other direction because he's from the same criminal underworld as me. But I am not. Even though there is a tiny possibility that under the exact right pressure he could rat me out. Yet, still I am here.

I put down my pencil and push my typewriter off the side of the desk. It's hits the floor with an almighty crash. I stand from the chair. The chair falls behind me. I do not turn around to look at him.

'Lilah?' His voice has a warning tone. I pick up a pencil from my pot, snap it in half, then pick up another, and another, and another, until all eleven pencils are snapped.

I hear his chair scrape on the floor boards, see his reflection in the window as he stands. His hands stay still at his sides.

I pick up a pot of ink, unscrew the lid, hold the pot in the air and pour it over my desk, and then another, and then another, this one I pour over my head.

The ink drips down my face, mixing with my tears.

'Turn around, Little Pet.' His voice is deeper than I've ever heard it, a thick syrup of command.

I turned to him, black ink dripping down my face. I am as brittle as a candy cane.

'Knees. Now,' he says. Still not moving. Still standing beside the easel.

I drop to my knees, head, lowered, eyes on his feet.

'Are you submitting to me?' He asks. His tone is Vanta black.

'Yes, Sir.' As dark as his tone is, mine matches it.

'And are you going to listen to me, do as I say, let me protect you?'

'Yes, Sir.'

His breath, deepens and slows. I dare to look up. His eyes are soft.

'Crawl to me,' he says.

I crawl to him, as the ink makes my vision cloudy. I kneel at his feet blinking up at him towering over me like he's a god.

He leans down to me, wipes the ink from under my eyes with his thumbs, and says, 'Good girl.'

I can hardly breathe. The relief of those two words, and of being at his feet with him looking down at me. A look that is indescribable. Fire and air, earth and water, all contained in his expression, along with some other element I have no words for. He is impossible to read.

'Thank you, Sir.'

He groans, and an involuntary, 'Fuckkkkk,' comes out of his mouth.

I know not to celebrate – I know there is still work to be done to secure this thing we have. But secure it, I will. I'm not going to lose him because of some little blue pill and a fair weather friend.

'I decide on you. I place my trust in you. I put myself in your hands,' I say.

To hell with everyone else. Roxy. Freya. The not-hot-barman. Roxy's exes. I have no idea who any of those people are, or what any of last night meant and I don't care. I want Mac and I'll burn down every other thing in order to have him, so I say, 'It was Roxy that gave me the pill, Roxy that pulled me into the cage. Without that pill, I don't think I'd have done it, but I still don't want you to go after her.'

If Roxy is part of something, some bigger plan than splitting up me and Mac, and he goes after her, wheels will be put into motion that no one can stop. Those wheels could lead to me being found by my family. 'You have my trust, you have my submission, now I'm asking you to please trust me on this. Leave Roxy alone. There are things in play that I can't tell you about.'

He rocks back on his feet. I can see him desperately trying to contain his monsters and then he drops to his knees facing me, and says, 'I won't put anything into motion that can't be stopped. I promise. But that means it's you and me now. Do you understand?'

Is he telling me to ditch Roxy, and Freya, or does he know about Jameson?

'It's just me and you now,' I say softly.

'For me to trust you, you have to let him go. Otherwise I will have to step down.'

My heart thunders in my mouth. He knows about Jameson.

'I understand,' I say, knowing I'm breaking a promise I feel like I've held forever. Knowing Jameson is now on the outside. He is no longer my Daddy. 'I promise it's me and you.'

He looks me in the eye and I feel the connection of him all the way through to my core. 'I think we are caught on opposite sides of a game we've been forced to play. Until I can find a way to get us out we play along with everyone else, but not each other. For now, we both stay where we are, but whatever happens, we stand together and if we fall, we fall together.'

'Yes, Sir.'

He pushes my hair from my face, and says, 'I'm not going to let anyone hurt you.'

I nod, and say, 'Except you, Sir.'

A smile kicks at his lips, as he says, 'Except me, Little Pet. But only if you deserve it, and only if you want it.'

'I want it,' I whisper. 'Please, I need it.'

His eyes flare, his monsters ripple across his skin as he twists my hair around his hand, raises himself to standing, and says, 'Be careful what you wish for, Little Pet....'