Chapter 30 Florian
Florian
Six Weeks Later…
As I walk into our home, the absence of the usual laughter and hustle and bustle of the staff is immediately apparent.
The haunting melody of Michel Fokine’s “The Dying Swan” fills the air, which explains the silence.
When Arabelle dances, everyone stops what they’re doing to watch like they are watching an angel from heaven.
When she dances, she tells a story, and her captivating presence draws you in, making it impossible to look away.
At first, it was hard for both Arabelle and I to come back home after Adahlia kidnapped her and almost killed Hugo.
We stayed at the penthouse for a while before she got the nerve to come back home, which I completely understand.
However, she missed the studio, and after our brief separation, it’s the only thing that has made living here again normal.
Like I’ve done time and time again, I follow the melodic tunes down the hallway toward the addition I had built onto the back of our home.
The moment I step into the studio’s entrance, I stop in my tracks. Hugo, Nero, Asva, Alrick, and a few other staff members are sitting on the floor around the room, their gazes locked on the captivating scene in front of them.
Leaning against the doorframe, I’m mesmerized by her elegant and beautiful movements.
As she moves, it seems like she’s gliding effortlessly, like she’s floating on air.
Her movements are graceful and fluid as she moves around the studio in a light pink leotard, pink spandex shorts, and pointe shoes the color of her ebony skin.
The wall of mirrors reflects every graceful turn and bend of her body, capturing her from every angle, while the recessed lighting and the natural light streaming through the windows illuminate her flawlessly.
So far, she hasn’t noticed anyone watching her, not even me.
She never does. And she’s always shocked when they all praise her when she finishes.
With her performance just a week away, she has dedicated at least two months to perfecting this piece.
For a perfectionist like her, there’s always something that can be tweaked in her mind, but when she dances, everything she does is filled with grace and precision.
Nothing can be more perfect.
When she closes her eyes, I see her swaying to the rhythm, completely lost in the music.
Each note becomes a part of her blood, a part of her soul.
It’s one of the most beautiful and most magnificent things to witness.
It’s something I’ll never get tired of experiencing.
I come here often just to witness something that comes so naturally to her, and it’s hard to reconcile how much effort she puts into it.
The months and long hours she pours into one performance are astounding.
On the final note, she times her ending to perfection.
It’s one section she says she needs to work on.
In the silent room, the sudden eruption of loud bravos and cheers startles her.
She looks around the room, then smiles when she notices everyone.
She stands, straightening her back, then curtseys while they continue to cheer her on.
I step into the room, and a wave of pride washes over me. This is my wife. The thought still boggles my mind often when I see her.
Once everyone notices me, they file out of the room, leaving us alone. As I walk toward my wife, I feel the warmth of her presence drawing me closer to her.
“I’m sweaty,” she mumbles against my chest after I pull her into my arms.
“I don’t care,” I say, then feel the warmth of her skin as I run my tongue along the side of her neck, savoring the subtle saltiness.
Her laughter fills the air, resonating deep within me. “You’re terrible.”
“You have absolutely no idea how terrible I can be when it comes to you.” I kiss the top of her head. “That was absolutely amazing, Beauty. I think Asva even had tears in his eyes.”
Unable to contain herself, she laughs even harder. Asva would be the last person to cry over anything. He’s the most serious person I’ve ever met, but just like the rest of us, anytime we watch her dance, she pulls emotions from us we don’t even know we have.
“My ending is still off.” She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose when she pulls away from me. “So, I have a lot more work to do until I get it right.”
I can hear the disappointment in her voice, but I can also see the determination in her eyes. Even though it looks perfect to me, whatever she feels is off, there is no doubt in my mind that she’ll correct it before her performance.
“It’s absolutely perfect, Arabelle. Ask anyone.”
“You’re supposed to say that because you’re my husband, and they are my friends. All of you are biased.”
She stands on her tiptoes and plants a gentle kiss on my lips. But I have other plans, and I deepen the kiss, then capture her moan with my mouth. Nothing compares to this woman. I’ll burn the world down if it means I get to spend the rest of my days with her.
I pull back, ending our kiss and causing her to grumble. “I say it because it’s the truth, my love.” I brush my fingers down her cheek, causing her eyes to flutter. “Do you know how much I love you?”
I’m sure she thinks she does, but she has no idea.
What I feel for her goes beyond the limitations of the word love.
And to think that there was a time when I believed I could live without this.
That I didn’t need the love of anyone, only the revenge that I had for my father.
However, Arabelle transformed my life in ways I never thought possible.
She’s no longer my unattainable beauty. She captured the attention of the Beast, and she’s captured my heart.
“I do know how much you love me, but I’m sure you’ll tell me I have no idea,” she says, smiling.
“Beauty, you are my world. I would be nothing without you. Never forget that.”
“I love you, too, Beast.”
She steps away from me, and I watch her walk toward the floor-to-ceiling windows of the studio, the sound of her pointe shoes tapping against the hardwood floor. Every step she takes is delicate, like she’s floating on a cloud.
She looks over her shoulder with lust and mischievousness dancing in her eyes.
“You never answered my question.”
My brows furrow in confusion. “What question?”
“When you first showed me this place, I asked could anyone see in here.”
“I don’t remember you asking me that.”
To ensure no one sneaks onto the property, I have men patrolling the perimeter of our home. With her increasing fame, we’ve had multiple incidents of paparazzi attempting to trespass onto our estate, along with enthusiastic fans.
After the first few incidents, I beefed up security even more. While the paparazzi still camp outside the gates and have been caught hiding in trees trying to catch even the smallest glimpse of her, nobody has penetrated the walls.
With a smile on my face, I make my way toward her, my dress shoes echoing off the floor of her studio. She leans against the large panes of glass with a smile on her face. “Why do you want to know?” I ask.
My little ballerina is a total exhibitionist, and I love it. It’s made for some fun nights at the penthouse. It also has me contemplating whether I need to have our bedroom and bathroom remodeled to include a wall of windows just for her.
She shrugs, a naughty smirk playing on her lips. “I just want to know.”
“Hmm,” I murmur, my hands finding her hips as I pull her close to me. “You just want to know, huh?”
She nods her head, her large doe eyes peering into mine.
Her leotard clings to her body like a second skin, accentuating her slender figure as I drag it down to her waist, leaving her breasts exposed.
Under my gaze, her dark brown nipples, slightly darker than her skin, harden like pebbles. With a delicate touch, I run the pads of my thumbs across them before squeezing them between my fingers. With a hiss, she arches her body in response to my touch.
“You would love it if someone saw me pleasuring you.”
Although I’m a possessive bastard, there are ways to give her the illusion of someone watching us fuck, even though no one would ever have the pleasure of seeing her come undone from my touch. That’s for my eyes only.
Swiftly, I turn her body and push her flat against one of the large-pane windows, causing her to yelp from the quick movement. I lean forward, my hard dick pressing against her soft ass.
“Is this what you want, Beauty?” I grind my cock against her harder, causing her to moan. “You want someone to see me fucking this tight body of yours?”
She whimpers, and the sound ignites something primal inside me. I snatch her leotard along with her spandex shorts down her body, undo my slacks, then pull my cock out. I don’t waste any time before surging inside her tight warmth.
“Florian!” she screams at the top of her lungs.
“So fucking tight,” I groan. “So wet. You are made for me, Beauty. This cunt is made for me.”
“Oh god.”
The side of her face is flat against the window, along with her palms and her body, when I see the shadow of one of my men.
“Open your eyes, Beauty,” I say as I plow into her harder and faster. “Nero’s walking by. Let him see me fuck my wife.”
I let her step back to where she’s not plastered against the window so she can watch one of our guards as he walks by the windows.
He looks in our direction, causing her to gasp.
You would think she’s appalled at the possibility of Nero seeing us, but I know that’s not the case.
Her pussy is getting wetter, which tells me all I need to know.
“Dirty, dirty girl,” I whisper in her ear. My cock slides in and out of her wet cunt effortlessly. “That greedy little cunt of yours is weeping. You love how Nero can see how well your cunt takes my cock, don’t you?”
“Florian…please…”
“Please, what, my love?” I nip at her earlobe as my warm breath brushes against her skin, causing goose pimples to rise. “Fuck you harder? Fuck you faster? Make you scream my name?”
My hand grasps one of her breasts from behind, squeezing it hard. That’s another thing about my woman. She loves a little of pain while I fuck her.
“Fuck me! Make me scream!”
I chuckle as I plow into her harder, faster, feeling her body respond to my touch. She’s more verbal during our lovemaking, which I love. She’s a reserved woman, not very vocal about many things that she wants, but during sex, she steps out of her shell, and I fucking love it.
I reach around her waist and play with her clit, causing her to whimper. Fuck, I love the little noises and sounds she makes. They go straight to my cock and work wonders for my ego because I know those sounds are only for me and caused only by me.
Nero’s still standing in front of the window. Even though his gaze is not on us, it doesn’t even matter because I’m pretty sure he can hear us. The room isn’t soundproof.
“He’s listening to you, Beauty.” I moan when her pussy flutters around my dick. “How about you scream my name so he can hear who you belong to? Come for me.”
I pinch her clit, and her body seizes as her pussy clamps around my cock. “Florian!”
I continue to plunge deep into her tight warmth as she pulls me over the edge right along with her. I pump inside her until I’m spent, and she sags against the window.
“That was…”
I turn her around in my arms. “You like that Nero can see and hear us?”
She says nothing, resting her forehead against my chest, and I tighten my embrace.
“No need to be embarrassed about what you like, Beauty. If I had an issue with it, Nero would be dead.”
Her head pops up, and her eyes widen in disbelief as she stares at me like I’ve lost my damn mind.
I respond with a nonchalant shrug because it’s the truth.
I don’t care if he or anyone hears me fuck my wife.
But no one will ever witness the way her body revels in pleasure unless I want them to.
And if they ever did without my permission, I’d gouge their eyes out, then slit their throats.
As she remains pressed against the window, I trail my fingers along her smooth skin, eliciting a breathy moan. I drop to my knees, toss one of her legs over my shoulder, and dive in. Her hands grip my hair, pulling at the strands, and the sting on my scalp causes me to groan.
With every lick, I delve deeper into her wet folds, teasing her entrance before focusing on her swollen clit with gentle circles. As the mixture of my cum and hers coats my mouth, an electrifying surge courses through me, sending my mind and body into a frenzy.
I love the mixture of our cum, and I will never get enough of her. She’s the reason I breathe. She’s the lightness to my darkness. The other half of my soul. She’s my fucking everything, and I will make sure she knows this until the day I take my final breath.
“Oh my god,” she moans as I flick and suck her swollen clit. “That feels so good, baby.”
I hum against her folds, pulling her closer to my mouth so I don’t miss one drop. I suck her clit harder, forcing another deep guttural moan deep from the love of my life.
There isn’t a day that will go by when I will not worship this woman for the goddess she is. Whatever she wants or whatever she needs, I will always go to the ends of the earth to give it to her. No matter what it costs me.
“That’s it, my love,” I murmur against her wet cunt. “Come for me.”
My command is all she needs, and her grasp tightens on my hair, causing a sting to cover my scalp. Her legs tremble as a combination of my cum and her arousal floods my mouth, and I drink up every drop.
I continue to tease her until she comes down from another orgasm. I remove her leg from my shoulder, then rise to my feet. She leans against the window with her eyes closed and a serene look on her face as she waits for her breaths to even out.
When she finally looks at me, I recognize the same look she gave me the first time I met her at the ballet in her dressing room.
It causes the same fire to churn in my stomach.
I realize that our relationship didn’t start out in the most conventional way, but this is the person I’m supposed to be with.
My life would not be complete without her.
As I pull her into my arms, she nestles closer, her arms wrapping around my neck. One of the most beautiful smiles I’ve ever seen graces her face.
“I love you,” she says.
“Say it again.”
She cups my face with one hand, rises onto her tiptoes and kisses me, and it’s like the first time we kissed all over again. However, before I can deepen the kiss, she pulls away.
“I love you, my husband, my heart, my Beast.”
“I love you too, Beauty. Until my last breath.”