20 - NAZÁR
20
NAZáR
“W hy do you need this, Nazár?” Leona asks, holding the phone out to me.
“You don’t question me, Leona. That’s not your position in my life,” I say, taking the phone from her hand.
I step off the lanai into the bright afternoon sun.
“Izad, how is the family?”
“We’ve just returned from vacation, and I think we have a sixth baby on the way.”
Laughing, I say, “You weren’t supposed to be making babies, just love.”
I can hear the shrug in his voice when he says, “That’s part of the territory. It seems like my wife becomes pregnant whenever I look at her.”
“So, are congratulations in order?”
“We won’t know just yet, but it’s safe to say that I put in the work, so I’m sure congratulations will be in order a few weeks from now.”
“I’ll be sure to send my finest bottle of rum and some Colombian cigars.”
“I should have told you that I was already successful,” he says, chuckling.
“Well, whether you did the deed or not, I’ll send them to you. A congratulatory present either way. You either have another one on the way or dodged a bullet.”
“You should not be so cynical, my friend.”
“If you’d lived my life, you would understand.”
“Did you forget what I do for a living? I have seen a lot, so I do understand. Eventually, you have to move on and choose to be happy.”
“Which brings me to the point of my call today.”
“What can I do for you, my friend?”
“I need you to investigate someone. I want a thorough background check of their financials, criminal records, family history, and mental and physical health. I need to know who their neighbors are, where they’ve traveled, and who they’ve spent time with over the last three months.”
“The executive package?”
“Yes.”
“You know the drill. Email me the name and any pictures you may have of the person. What’s your desired turnaround time?”
I think back on Camila’s words the day before yesterday. She said she had two weeks, and I’ve spent two days ignoring her, holed up here in my home.
“Your assistant told me you were backed up from that two-week vacation. Five days should be fine if that works for you. Given your backlog, I know it’s a short turnaround time, but you know I’ll reward you handsomely for it.”
“It works perfectly well for me. If I encounter any situations, I will inform you immediately.”
“Great. I’ll send 50 percent, plus expenses, to your account today and the rest when you turn in the results.”
“Sounds good, my friend. As always, it’s a pleasure doing business with you.”
“And you too, Izad. Try not to slip in another baby between now and then, huh?”
Laughing, he replies, “I can’t make any guarantees.”
We end the call, and I turn around to face a scowling Leona with arms crossed over her chest.
“What?”
“I can’t believe you.”
“What?”
“Are you having Camila Martinez investigated?”
“Why?”
“Because you already do a preliminary background check before they’re allowed to come to the resort. You just ordered a full-scale investigation of her. What are you up to, Nazário Sebastian Rivas?”
“Nothing,” I mumble, turning my lips down as I walk back onto the lanai and pluck a handful of grapes from the ones in the bowl.
I pop a few in my mouth and settle into my chair, watching her watch me. We’re in a stare-off, and this isn’t unusual for us.
“You can be so damn stubborn and foolish when you want to be! You’re going to run her away.”
“If she’s meant to be here, Leona, she isn’t going anywhere.”
“And if she leaves because she found out you snooped into her background?”
“Then she wasn’t destined to be here,” I say, picking up my glass of rum and sipping.
“Why can’t you just learn to trust people?”
“You know that I don’t open my life to just anyone. It will be five years since Bella passed away in a couple of months. With all the speculation around her death, I don’t want intruders trying to sneak into my life. At this point, anyone I meet will fall under the same strict scrutiny that she is. For all I know, she could be some reporter trying to get close to me to sniff out a story.”
“You’re supercilious.”
“Leona, it’s not my own self-importance that I’m inflating. Bella was an A-list actress before her downfall. People loved her, and though she wasn’t getting all the stellar parts she once did, they still loved her. They were reminded of that love after her passing. People love to celebrate the anniversaries of tragic incidents more than anything.”
I lean forward and grab another cluster of grapes as Leona tries to snatch them out of my reach.
“Are you saying that people are naturally dismal?”
I grip the edge of the bowl tightly and snatch it back in my direction. She releases it and stands straight, rolling her eyes.
“They are naturally drawn to adversity and calamitous events. Rather than judging me, Leona, I need you, Gary, and Jules to look for anything that seems out of the norm.”
With my free hand, I plop grapes into my mouth and gesture to a chair behind Leona, which she grudgingly takes.
“I’m not judging you, Nazár. And if you’re so skeptical about Ms. Martinez’s motives, why are you spending so much time with her?”
“To weed out her true intentions,” I lie.
“You don’t need to spend time with her to do that. Lately, all your free time has been spent creeping around the grounds with her.”
“I don’t creep. This is my fucking property!” I snarl.
“Well, that’s exactly what you do when you take her through back doors and bring her in and out under cover of night. If you don’t want her in your life, don’t play games with her emotions or have your way with her in your home . . . on a certain ledge, I might add.”
“You’ve been spying again, Leona? I will have to give Gary some pointers for keeping you preoccupied. Clearly, you’re missing me.”
“No! If you’d forgotten, the guest house has a perfect view of that side of the property. I saw you when I returned to drop off the groceries you’d requested.”
Smirking, I pop more grapes into my mouth before leaning forward and grabbing a mango from the same bowl.
Camila’s not a patient woman, and she’s taking things into her own hands. I have a lesson or two to teach her. It doesn’t matter to me that she’s leaving in a couple of weeks. She must learn that I’m the one in charge, not her.
I’m the one who gives the commands, and she’s the one who obeys. I tell her when, where, and how we meet.
To her, this is a game; for me, this is a lifestyle. I prefer a submissive woman because it’s easier for me to protect her. When I fail to protect a woman, especially a self-destructive one like Bella, it causes me to feel defenseless and useless. Remembering that season in my life has the power to plunge me into depression.
I know that my mood swings can be a lot to handle, and the only way to determine if a woman can handle me in my entirety is to see how she submits in our intimate life.
Thus far, I haven’t had luck in that field.
The only thing I’m sure of is that I won’t put more pressure on a woman than she can bear. If it becomes intolerable for her, then she’s not who I need in my life.
I am who I am, and I’m not changing for anyone. Neither do I want a woman to change for me. I just have to find the woman who is mine. The one who wants to belong to me, no questions asked.
“Seriously, Nazár, you could give the wrong impression if you become intimate with her and bring her into your home. Maybe tread lightly with Camila. She seems extremely impressionable; if she falls, she’ll fall hard and won’t easily recover.”
“Good.”
“That’s cruel.”
“No. It’s good that she’s easily impressionable. That means she’s easier to train.”
“She’s not your pet, Nazár!”
“Leona, I need one more thing before you can retire for the evening.”
Sniffing, she remembers her place and stands with her hands primly crossed in front of her crotch. Slowly, I let my eyes drop down to the area her hands cover, and I smirk, biting my bottom lip.
Very intentionally, I allow my gaze to trail up again, slowly over the contours of her breasts that rise heavily with desire, before moving to her lips as I lick my own and stop at her eyes.
“Call the hotel and give them the instructions I gave you earlier. Then send a car for Ms. Martinez. I think that I need a little relief.”
“You bastard,” Leona hisses before she turns on her heel and leaves the room.
She’s right. I am that. Leona is still attracted to me, though she’s moved on. We respectfully keep our distance from each other. She keeps hers because she knows she cannot meet my demands and doesn’t like failing. I keep mine for those same reasons and out of respect for her relationship.
“I thought you were out of town,” Camila says, stepping from the car.
I take her hand in mine to help her up onto the sidewalk. Leaning into the car, I ask Errol, the driver, “Would you please take Ms. Martinez’s bags to the guest house?”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Rivas.”
I tap the car’s hood, turn around, still holding Camila’s hand, and lead her back into my home.
“Have you eaten?”
“Not since lunch,” she says softly.
“Good. I will enjoy feeding you,” I reply with a smile.
“Were you out of town?”
“No.”
“Busy with work?”
“No.”
“Oh . . . I thought I would have heard from you by now, especially with how you left me the other night.”
I can hear the tension in her voice, and I stop in the foyer, turning her around to look at me.
“Princesa, I set the rules, and you obey. Are we going to have a rough time with that before I go any further?”
I tilt her chin slightly.
“No, Dominio.”
I smile.
“Good girl. We will eat, and then I will take you to the guest house, where you will stay for the remainder of your visit.”
She nods. “Where can I wash my hands?”
“Follow me,” I say, leading her down the hallway on the opposite side of the house.
Pushing the third door open, I say, “You may wash and get dressed here.”
“Dressed?”
“Yes. Your attire is laid out on the bed for you, along with your shoes in the box there,” I say, pointing at an orange and crème box.
“When you’re finished, meet me on the lanai. We’ll be serving ourselves. Everyone has the night off.”
She looks happy about that, and I close the door and head back to the lanai to ponder my thoughts a bit longer.
It’s been a while since I’ve developed feelings for any woman. I keep them all at a distance as they only serve one purpose for me: relief. Aside from that, I’ve treated them well and taken good care of them, but I have no further use for them. Yoni was correct, but I didn’t want to give her the wrong impression.
She compared her boyfriend to me, and I didn’t want her to be put off by my thoughts, which may not be the same as his.
Camila Martinez intrigues me in a way that a woman never has, not even my late wife. Not only does she intrigue me, but she makes me want her badly. It’s been hell keeping my dick in my pants the last couple of nights. I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to do so tonight, especially with what I purchased for her to wear.
The only thing that will keep my desire at bay is inflicting punishment on her. Seeing her take the pain that I love to dish out will turn me on, but it will also serve as a deterrent.
I think back to Leona chiding me about getting Camila investigated. My logical side knows I must do this for my peace of mind. If we connect how I believe we can, I need to know everything about her. It’s the only way that I can let her in completely.
Yet, another side of me wants to wade deeper into that water with no questions asked. That side of me responds when Camila steps out onto the lanai with me.
She’s wearing a transparent mesh three-piece set. The bra barely covers her nipples and wraps in a bandage style in the front with three slim bands across her back. The garter belt is a series of
leather straps that hook up to thigh-high stockings. A chain attached to the front of the garter belt travels in two directions, each attaching to the handcuffs on her wrists. The heels she’s wearing tonight are incredibly high, but she can walk in them, as I suspected.
“You’re beautiful, Princesa,” I say, reaching for her hand.
She comes to me and, with a little pressure on her shoulders, kneels before me.
“This, mi amor, is how I love looking at you. You’re beautiful resting on your knees at my cock, ready to serve me whenever I want. Seeing you in this position makes my cock as hard as a rock. I would love to shove my dick down your throat right now and watch you choke on it. Would you like that, Princesa?”
“Yes, Dominio,” she says, bowing her head.
“Princesa, you may look me in the eyes and speak to me whenever you want unless I punish you. And trust me, when you’re punished, you will know it. There will be no doubt in your mind. Are you comfortable?”
Smiling nervously, she says, “It will take some getting used to, but I like this.”
“Can you handle it, Princesa?”
“Yes.”
“How does it make you feel?”
“Sexy. Powerful. The way your eyes lit up when I walked into this room made me feel in control, desired, and beautiful.”
“You’re all those things, Princesa. But remember, even when I’m exacting strict commands from you, you’re still powerful. What makes you even more powerful is when you agree to give that control to me over your body and your will.”
She smiles so beautifully at me that I want to reward her, but I won’t. I explain the expectations of our relationship. I explain what she can expect and inquire about what she wants. We spent an hour negotiating the terms of our relationship and the boundaries. I explained hard and soft limits, and we agreed on hers.
“What do you have planned for tonight?” she asks when we finish.
“Be patient, Princesa. Be patient. If you’re a good girl and can withstand my plans, you will get a reward,” I say, removing the lids from our plates.
Tonight’s meal is cedar-planked salmon, lobster ravioli, risotto, steamed broccoli, and fresh garlic bread. We’ll finish it off with coconut flan.
“Would you like wine, rum, or water, Princesa?”
“How about I serve you, Dominio?”
“You’re a fast learner. Please, go ahead.”
I watch her breasts jiggle while she prepares our drinks at the minibar and then returns to me, kneeling before me and holding my glass.
Tonight, the furniture has been removed from the lanai; the only remaining are palm tree mats for sitting. Soft jazz music is piped into the space from overhead speakers, and when she’s finished preparing our drinks, I move to sit beside her.
“Let me feed you, mi amor.”
She smiles, pleased that I want to serve her.
I take my time feeding her and enjoying how she engages with every bite, showing how sumptuous the food is with sultry moans and licking her lips.
And when I’m finished feeding her, she does the same for me. I shake my head when she forks a piece of salmon for me.
“Take it off the fork and feed it to me.”
She does as I ask, and when her fingers meet my lips, I hold her wrist, slowly sucking the meat from her fingertips. When I’ve consumed it all, still holding her wrist, I lick her fingers clean.
Returning to her index finger, I slowly suck it suggestively until she moans and squirms, and I can smell her heat.
“What do you want, Princesa?”
“You.”
It’s the one thing I’ve known since seeing her on the balcony that night. She wanted me. It was in the sway of her hips, the way she pressed against that railing, and the smile on her lips. Every time we’ve been in contact with each other since, no matter the words on her lips, the desire was in her eyes, and I could always . . . always smell her heat.
My hand grips the back of her neck, and she inhales, holding her breath. Quickly, I loop my fingers in her hair, jerking her head backward. I see the tears smarting her eyes, but she doesn’t utter a sound.
Leaning forward, my mouth closes over hers, and I suck on her lips until she opens for me. Princesa welcomes my tongue, my growl, and my ownership of her mouth as I take control of her tongue and the kiss, leading her where she dares not go.
She’s sweet, warm, and hungry for what I have to offer her. When I release her, she stares breathlessly at me.
“Follow me,” I order, walking into the house from the lanai.
We take the hallway to my suite on the opposite side of the house from all the other rooms. I close and lock the door, although I know everyone has left for the evening.
“Your room is different but nice,” she says.
I never showed her my bedroom when I gave her a tour of my home.
I look casually at the modern furnishings and try to see the black walls and black leather furniture with strategic spotlighting through her eyes. The luxury art pieces displayed on an illuminated shelf are my only concession to color in an otherwise monochromatic bedroom. Even the fireplace is tiled with black tourmaline, and the minibar is crafted from black onyx and framed in black leather.
“Thank you,” I reply, placing my hand over an invisible black plate on the wall to the left of my art shelf.
The shelf begins to slide sideways, and I hear a little gasp behind me, which causes me to smirk just a little.
I step inside the space and turn to face Camila in the bedroom, staring in amazement.
“Don’t be afraid of the dark, Princesa.”
She finally closes her mouth, looks over her shoulder as if considering running, and then back at me.
“I promise. It will hurt just a little unless you want more.”
She inhales, and I see the moment she makes up her mind. She releases her breath, straightens her shoulders and head, and a tiny smile dances on her lips.
I hold my hand out . . . welcoming her into my lair.