Chapter 11 Florian
Florian
With a groan, I toss the crumpled sheets off my body, instantly feeling the weight of exhaustion in my limbs as I rub the tiredness from my eyes. With each passing day, sleep seems to slip further away, and I cherish the couple of hours I’ve been able to get.
As I gaze at Adahlia, her blonde locks cascading onto my black satin sheets, any remnants of contentment from the few hours of sleep I had evaporate, leaving behind a sour mood.
I’ll never understand why I put myself through the agony of sleeping with other women, knowing deep down that no one can truly fulfill me. Nobody can replace her. There’s only one person who possesses my black heart, and her presence consumes my soul.
“Fuck!” I groan when I stand and sway.
The unending pounding in my head serves as a constant reminder of the fleeting nature of sleep and the ceaseless stress that plagues my existence.
The migraines can be debilitating at times, but I manage them, determined to keep my weakness a secret.
Adahlia’s presence only amplifies the fucking pressure, making the pounding in my head unbearable.
But I have no one to blame but myself because when she calls and begs for me to fuck her, I can never say no.
I love it when she begs.
I lazily make my way toward my balcony, not bothering to put on any clothes.
I gaze through the tinted panes of glass, wondering what she’s up to today.
According to Hugo, Arabelle visited her lawyer, but I haven’t received the contract yet.
Her time off is nearly up before she goes back to work.
It’s not nearly enough time to rest for the amount of work she does, but who am I to judge?
Like I said, I may get a couple of hours of sleep myself.
I know how it is to work yourself too hard to where your life becomes consumed by your work and nothing else.
I can’t wait to change that.
I wish I could catch a glimpse of her. It’s been weeks since I’ve been able to see her beautiful face.
Of course, I get daily updates on where she’s been and who she’s with, but nothing ever changes where she’s concerned.
Outside of her job, she has no life. While I pity her sometimes because she’s alone, and that can’t be easy for anyone, I’m grateful all the same.
I’m a bastard.
The last time Arabelle’s schedule changed, she ended up being attacked in a grimy alley behind a bar.
It was through no fault of her own, of course, but he paid for it with his life.
I did what needed to be done. However, they discovered Pierre Gaultier’s lifeless body only because I was driven by emotion.
I had done a piss-poor job disposing of the body, but I’ll make sure Arabelle and myself will be protected.
I have a lot of people in my pocket, and they are always looking to get their pockets lined.
No man will ever share her space and breathe the same air she breathes. Not while I’m alive, especially someone she didn’t give consent to. No one deserves to have even the smallest piece of her. Not even me.
I make my way back toward my bed, each step filled with a growing sense of dread for when Adahlia wakes up.
I open my nightstand and pull out the pack of cigarettes inside.
I promised my mother when she was alive that I would quit, but like everything else I promised her, I haven’t been able to do it.
At the click of the lighter, Adahlia’s beautiful blue eyes peer up at me through long lashes. A small smile graces her face. In her mind, she’s convinced herself she’s in love with me, but in reality, she’s not. She’s in love with my cock and the idea of us.
Throughout the years we’ve been intimate, we’ve had this conversation countless times: she believes it’s love, while I always emphasize it’s purely physical. It will never go beyond us having sex. I will never open my heart up to her.
She props up on her elbow, and the silk sheets fall, showcasing her palm-sized breasts and pink nipples. “Come back to bed, Florian,” Adahlia says, her husky voice going straight to my cock. “It’s still early.”
It’s time to walk away. It’s been time to end this.
“We can’t do this anymore, Addie.” I sit at the end of the bed, pull on the cigarette, and blow the smoke into the air. “It’s gone on long enough.”
Adahlia Karlsson, the daughter of Andreas Karlsson, was born into one of the most influential Uppsala families.
There are six families who possess an equal share of power, all with their own territories.
Some alliances are stronger than others, and most of the alliances are made through marriage.
At one point, I saw an opportunity to solidify my power by marrying Adahlia after taking over the Larsson Syndicate.
However, everything changed that fateful night I attended the ballet and saw Arabelle.
That night, I met the other half of my soul, although I don’t think she even remembers me.
Adahlia scoots up next to me, her hand finding its way to my semi-hard cock. With just a few strokes, she elicits a low groan from me, and I can’t help but revel in the exquisite pressure and friction of her smooth hand.
Naturally, she goes back to relying on sex.
It’s what has always worked in the past because I’m a man who loves a beautiful woman.
However, it won’t work this time. The Larsson and Karlsson Syndicates have already formed an alliance.
Therefore, there’s no longer a necessity for a marriage with her.
She’s not the person I want anyway and definitely not the woman I’ll call my wife.
“I think you just need to let me take care of you, Florian.” She slides off the bed, and her beautiful, lithe body settles between my knees. “You’ve been so stressed lately.”
She’s completely clueless about the amount of stress I’ve been under. Shit never stops when you’re at the top, and I don’t complain because it’s where I want to be.
Although I know I need to stop her, Adahlia’s so fucking talented with her mouth, it’s hard to say no. My silence she takes as her cue to go ahead.
With her painted nails, she traces a tantalizing path down my chest and over my abdomen, igniting a surge of desire. I embrace it all—the heat, the slickness, the pressure. One more time won’t hurt, I convince myself.
After I stub out the cigarette in the ashtray on the nightstand, my fingers tangling in her golden locks, pulling them hard as she moans in ecstasy.
However, in my mind, it’s not Adahlia pleasuring me but Arabelle—the one who captivates me.
Instead of blonde hair and thin lips, it’s Arabelle’s dark curls and plump lips bringing me pleasure, filling me with an intoxicating desire.
As she moves up and down my firm length, a surge of adrenaline floods my senses, amplifying every sensation as she plunges me deeper into her warm, wet mouth.
“Damn, that feels good, Beauty,” I praise as she hums, rejoicing in the attention I’m giving her. The sensation sends a surge of electricity moving through me.
Using her tongue, she traces a path along the length of my shaft before engulfing me once again. I tighten my grip on her golden strands, lifting my hips and guiding her head down to meet my thrusts.
“Fucking take all of me like a good girl,” I order, speeding up my movements. “You know how long I wanted those fucking lips around my cock? Hmm? I’m going to fuck that pretty mouth of yours until I come down your throat, and you choke on my cum.”
The sight was absolutely breathtaking. Tears welled in her eyes, spilling over and staining her cheeks. Her skin is adorned with scattered splotches of vibrant red. The way her tongue dances across the head of my shaft is pure bliss, edging me closer to the point of no return.
With a groan, I apply even more pressure and force her head down further, craving the sight of those tears.
Needing to feel her throat close around the head of my cock.
She gags when the reddened mushroom tip hits the back of her throat over and over, but she doesn’t try to push me away.
She takes everything I’m giving her like the good girl I know she is.
I’m in heaven as my orgasm barrels through me.
I throw my head back and close my eyes. “Fuck! Belle,” I shout as my orgasm barrels through me like a freight train. “That’s it, Beauty, swallow all of it. Don’t lose one single drop.”
I maintain my grip on her until I completely empty myself into her mouth. I open my eyes, and my dick slips from her mouth when I let go of her hair, then she jerks to her feet.
“Who the fuck is Belle, Florian?” Adahlia shouts with her hands on her hips.
I can’t help but admire her body. With her slender hips, flat stomach, perky breasts, and flawless skin, her beauty is undeniable. However, the sight of her ruins my perfect fantasy. She’s all wrong.
“What the fuck are you talking about, Adahlia?”
I reach for the cigarette in the ashtray and light it again, relishing the flavor as it envelops my mouth and coats my tongue. After shooting your load, there’s nothing quite like the satisfying taste of tobacco.
“You called me Belle, you fucking asshole.”
In a hurry, she snatches her clothes from the floor and dresses.
This isn’t the first time I’ve imagined Belle while fucking her or someone else, but I don’t think I’ve ever said her name out loud.
That’s a new one. Or if I have, no one has ever called me on it.
Do I care that I called out her name? Not really.
The person whose name echoes from my mouth is the one who occupies my thoughts and heart.
The woman I’m with at the time doesn’t matter to me.
They never matter to me. They are only there to serve one purpose.
“Is that why you don’t want to be with me anymore?” she asks as she slips on her heels. “You’ve found someone else?”
Adahlia doesn’t deserve an answer because, although we fuck each other often, we aren’t exclusive.
I’ve never told her this goes beyond what we do in the bedroom.
Belle is my secret. The object of my relentless fixation.
And it will remain that way until I’m ready to introduce her to the world as my better half, which may be never if she doesn’t sign the contract.
“It was always going to be this way, Adahlia,” I say, ignoring her questions. “That’s something I’ve never hidden from you. I’ve never said we were exclusive. That’s why you’re not the only woman I fuck, and I know I’m not the only man you fuck.”
I shrug, indifferent to who she sleeps with, but she winces, unable to escape the sting of the truth.
I’m a powerful man in this city. Whenever I attend functions, Adahlia is usually perched on my arm.
Because of that, people think we’re in a relationship.
So, it’s not uncommon for men who are looking to impress the Beast to inform me when she’s with other men. Not that it matters to me.
“Fuck you, Florian!” she screeches instead of acknowledging the truth.
Maybe she’s embarrassed that I know what she does with other men, but she shouldn’t be because I couldn’t care less.
She’s a piece of ass to me and most likely to them too.
A very nice piece of ass, but not special, which I’ve told her many times.
It may make me a bastard, but I would never lie to her, no matter the situation.
“You think you can just get rid of me? Just wait until my father hears about this.”
She storms out of my bedroom, then out of my penthouse, the door slamming behind her.
I’m not worried. I’ve already spoken to her father, and I let him know there is no chance of me marrying his daughter. He understood, and we forged an alliance because he can’t stand my father. He’d rather deal with me and give the middle finger to my father, even if I’m not married to Adahlia.
“One thing off my plate.”