Chapter 17

I turned to the mirror and leaned my head in my arms as he practically muttered my name, "Olivier."

"No..." He started fondling me once more as soon as I uttered a very low whisper.

I was so fucking wet because I felt his firm dick behind me. I simply... I had no idea what had happened. He was moving his fingers in circles while he touched my nipples at the tops of them, causing them to swing together. I was struggling to breathe, but I understood what he wanted from me. I refrained from quitting so quickly. But his taunting... Fuck... I didn't give up even though I was a little bit stumbling and bending beneath his fondling.

He pulled me to him and said, "Look how swollen they are. You can see them under your satin blouse," as I looked in the mirror and saw the swollen grains on my own body. "Your nipples are now plainly visible through the fabric. They might hurt a little, and you want to cover them with something warm and moist, like a mouth."

When he muttered, "mouth," I almost felt his tongue touch my nipples, which made me shudder.

"N-no..." I replied, trying to hide my excitement with a shaky voice.

He said in a quiet, forceful, but calm voice, "Yes."

I had a feeling he'd get what he wanted. But not as fast as he expected. I felt the chill of the mirror on my bare scapulas. He removed the shirt from my shoulders but left it on my body. He leaned in toward me, and I tried to stop him by placing my hands on his shoulders, but all I managed to do was make a vulgar grunt before he grabbed me by the thighs and sucked my nipple with his mouth.

"Stop... I beg you." We both felt how hot and wet my body was even though I was groaning and wriggling around like I didn't like it at all.

His voice grew suddenly closer as he said, "Olivier."

His touching made me tremble, and I felt his hot breath on my neck. My nerves were frayed. I couldn't even count how many times I came in my pants since my insides were twitching. He was also panting heavily. I could feel his small shiver beneath my fingers. He wanted it as well, I knew. He needed more, I knew. I felt it throughout my entire body. And so, I gave up.

With my palm on his neck and my eyes slightly closed, I spoke the barely audible words, "Ranold."

I felt as though every defense I had established deep inside me had been breached once more. I had no idea why that happened at that precise moment. There were many things I couldn't explain at the time, but the only thing I knew for sure was that Ranold Hamilton was my husband and that he wanted me to be his husband as well. I knew there was a place for me even if it was all just a game or a chess match with real humans. I could remain near enough to the King even if I were a pawn.

***

Ranold Hamilton had been gone for a week since then. I had a lot of alone time at home to reflect on what had happened. I was upset with myself and chastised myself for being weak. The following weekend, I saw my mother and sister again. Ethan did not attend university, but he wrote to me a few days later to let me know everything was fine. I was delighted for him. He said he'd show up on Monday. He was in full bloom and smelling as though he had just experienced the happiest days of his life when we met on Monday.

I remarked to Ethan in the canteen, "You are dispersing the sunshine of joy everywhere. As though your heat were truly a blessing."

He responded, "It truly was. "My brother got me a perfume containing alpha pheromones. You know, I used it day and night. I'm very pleased since that was a crazy time."

He glanced at me while biting his lip and raising his chin.

"Have you forgotten that only a week ago, you were the same?" He snickered.

"No, I wasn't," I declined because I found it hard to believe I could have been this way.

"Of course, you were. Despite the fact that you didn't act in that way, the aura around you remained the same. Your lover has a very obstinate boyfriend," I flushed as Ethan smiled.

As I chewed on my salad, I mumbled, "No."

We were discussing some of the campus lads while making plans for the following day to determine what discipline would be best to prepare for. Nilan was really interested in me, Ethan told me. He learned that via Brian, who asked my Facebook page for his friend. If only I had known that the following day, in my shorts, pajamas, and T-shirt, I would be in Illinois with my "loving" husband, who wouldn't even return home but would simply text me to walk out to the parking lot.

"Olivier?" Jane asked, surprised, as she sat in her flight seat, tightening her seat belts. "Ranold grabbed you from the bathroom?"

I said grudgingly, "Almost," gazing out the window at the lush grassy field.

"We're going to Chicago, so don't pout like a little baby. You'll enjoy it, "My husband remarked as he draped a blanket over me.

I mumbled, "Pshaw," in response.

"Olivier," my spouse said sternly, and I merely wrapped myself in the blanket.

"Perhaps you guys need some time to have a heart-to-heart conversation?" Jane asked.

Jane merely laughed a little as we both sharply replied, "No." She said then in a low voice, "Newlyweds dilemma."

Ranold uttered "Jane. What about...?"

They started talking about their own businesses. I won't lie; I didn't really want to comprehend much. I was attempting to take in the scenery outside the window. The sun shone brightly above the clouds, despite the fact that it was cloudy below, and I appreciated it. I picked up my phone and attempted to focus on my studies, but I found it to be really difficult due to the two annoyingly chattering individuals in front of me. Next, I attempted to fall asleep, but that proved to be just as difficult. When we arrived at our destination and it was almost midnight, I was too exhausted. I went to bed right away after checking into the hotel instead of waiting for my husband to finish using the restroom.

I was alone myself in my bed the following morning. I shivered a little before turning around and abruptly opening my eyes. Nobody was on the opposite side of the bed. My husband might not even have been in our bed, I wasn't sure. I felt alone. As if...

'What am I thinking about?' I chastised myself once more. 'As if it were of any concern to me.'

In order to leave the room, I got to my feet. Jane was on the couch in the living room talking on the phone. I entered the dining room after she waved to me. There were a few sweet snacks, a few salads, and freshly made sandwiches. I made tea and took a sandwich.

"Ranold got out of bed early. He appears to be in a hurry "Jane said as she entered the kitchen and took a snack off the table. "Why didn't you two talk earlier? There appears to be some sort of tension."

I replied quickly, "Nowt."

"Ranold is one of the few people you can truly trust," Jane said as she ate a cookie. "Just let him do everything. Place the burden on him and believe him. The only guidelines are those."

I chose not to respond. What else could I say? I couldn't even understand myself. I was struggling to control and assimilate the variety of emotions I was feeling. The emotion I experienced came from the depths of my soul and was unaffected by the situation, thus I was unsure of what to feel or what specific emotion was right.

It was a peaceful and pleasant day. After checking out the hotel restaurant, I spent almost the entire day watching TV while resting in bed. There were numerous channels and interesting serials to choose from. I had a great time and even watched Netflix. Ranold wrote to me and inquired about my needs, which was strange. I told him I wanted a huge bucket of ice cream, and the governess soon delivered it to me. Chocolate and strawberry jam, just like I wanted. That was my favorite part of my life.

We traveled somewhere that evening, as was planned. Jane simply entered my room to inform me that we were leaving. She got me a sports outfit, so I put my serial on hold and put it on. Nike sneakers, athletic pants, and a blouse made up the outfit. I wasn't too sure about exposing my bare stomach after eating ice cream, but I didn't care. And the fact that I wasn't as perfect as my husband made me even happier. I was taking a little payback.

I was surprised when we arrived at the closed store. It turned out that only regular clients were barred from entering. There was a large hall inside that was entirely made of marble. The interior was appealing, so I was pleasantly delighted. There was only one woman, and she assisted us with the outfits. I was further shocked to learn that the outfit I was wearing for my costume was something we had tried on the day before in New Orleans. At first, I refused to wear them. Then, however, I pondered whether I would be able to make up for lost time with those. I wore them as well. Just to take retribution.

Chicago felt a little cool. And it was raining. We arrived at a really tall skyscraper. On the porch of it, I noticed my husband surrounded by reporters. He was smiling and talking to them. We went by and showed up in the subterranean parking garage. Jane had open shoulders and a light silver dress with no side slits. It was lengthy. She also had a shawl on.

We entered the elevator and rode it up. There was a lovely restaurant on the top floor. There were a few people seated at the tables, and there was nice light music playing. The tables were all circular and had eight to ten exquisite chairs.

"Wait here for Ranold," Jane said, leaving me in the foyer.

I crossed my hands as I sat in the chair. Ranold Hamilton was the pivotal figure in my entire life. Is there anything I can do on my own, at least? I was listening to many people speak courteously to one another. I had the impression that I didn't want to go there at all. As a result, I was content to sit there, away from that ostentation, and engage in civil conversation with others. If only the elevator doors hadn't opened and Ranold Hamilton hadn't left, I would be content to stay seated there for the rest of my life. He was talking to someone else and didn't seem to notice me.

'And that's good!' I scowled a little and thought irately. 'Don't even look at me.'

Why was I so enraged with him? Because he once again foiled my plans and brought me somewhere I didn't want to go? Or was it because of that time in the dressing room that we never got to the end? I felt irritated. To express my anger to the fullest, I crossed my legs and started swinging one.

I couldn't help but turn to look at him when I heard him say, "Olivier," so close to me.

I instantly wanted to cry at that precise time. A s well as to forget everything. And all that was left was for me to enter his tight, warm grip. Why was that so? I didn't get it. I was still furious with him. I kept my hands up because I was still upset and annoyed. The moment he gently pulled me to himself, though, I abruptly got up, furious with myself. I eventually sighed, feeling a little better. He had his heated hand on my waist. I could feel it. I got chills everywhere but where his hand was since it was so close to my delicate stomach.

'Fuck... I don't understand!' I nearly let out a dejected cry as I thought that.

Ranold greeted the guests at the table as we sat down. I gave a small nod, grinned, and said something like, "Good evening." Jane was not at our table. We received a ton of fantastic food from the servers. The main courses came after the appetizers. Everything was divinely excellent. Every time I took a bite of that wonderful dish, my taste receptors had little orgasms, and I ate everything.

I was enjoying the dinner and a glass of sparkling wine as Ranold was chatting with the guests when I felt his hot hand slide down the table and land on my knee. I felt a little shiver when I looked at the guests, but they didn't seem to notice me or my shame at all because they seemed to be quite engaged in the talk. He raised his hand, then lowered it once more. In front of other people, he was touching me underneath the table. I gave him a glance. With his free hand, Ranold Hamilton supported his chin while he listened to the conversation from across the room, grinning. I realized immediately to whom that grin was intended.

I pretended like nothing was happening. I grew accustomed to his gentle petting, and I didn't even notice how it appeared to be right next to my groin. What the hell are you doing, holy crap, I asked my husband with all my glances. But he didn't even bother looking at me! I breathed in through my nose and carried on enjoying the most delectable cake ever. I was furious with him. Thank heavens the tablecloth covered my thighs and crotch, and I was not too fat to sit back to back.

When his hand began petting my dick through my trousers, I slightly coughed. I could feel his fingers running up my dickhead and down to my testicles. I shuddered a little when I felt his fingers encroaching on my groin in several places. I was hard. And that was just the beginning.