Chapter 41
Chapter Forty-One
ALEXANDER
Saskia and Tobias are at Oakleigh, but Nicholas and Christian are away on business together, so I ask the two youngest to come to my office while I video call the other two. Once they have the same information as Imogen and I do, I produce the key and hand it over to Saskia, linking my fingers through Imogen’s.
“Are you sure you’re not reading too much into this?” she asks. “It’s just a silly key.”
It’s harder for Saskia. She was only four when Mum died. She never knew her like we did. Even Tobias has a patchy memory. But for me, Nicholas, and Christian, we were old enough to truly know her. Not as well as our father, obviously, but enough that Mum hiding a key has significance.
“There’s more to it than that. I feel it in my gut. The confusing part is why hide it somewhere we were unlikely to find it? If Imogen hadn’t unearthed the globe from Mum’s desk drawer, I’m not sure we’d ever have found it. I’d forgotten the globe even existed.”
“You said there wasn’t anything it might open in Mum’s office,” Nicholas says. “But if she went to all that trouble to hide the key, I’m guessing whatever it opens will be hidden, too. For all we know, she could have buried it somewhere on the estate. We’ll never find it.”
“I say we forget it,” Saskia says. “It’s probably nothing.”
“Or it could be something.” Christian taps his forefinger on his bottom lip, which is what he does when he’s thinking. “I’ve often wondered why Mum didn’t leave a suicide note. Maybe that’s where she put it.”
“But why?” I scratch my cheek. “Why write a note, put it in a box, and hide both the box and the key that opens it? Besides, we all know why she killed herself.” Pain lances through my chest, the loss of my sister and mother within weeks of each other as sharp now as it was nineteen years ago.
“Don’t tie yourself in knots, Xan,” Tobias says. “I know you like to have answers for every little thing, but this… A nineteen-year-old mystery we might never solve. For all we know, the key could open a box where Mum kept Dad’s love letters, in which case, they should stay hidden.” He grins and shudders.
“We should talk to Dad,” Nicholas says. “He may have some insight.”
“Not yet,” I say. “I’d like us to poke around a bit more first.”
“What about contacting some of Mum’s friends?” Tobias asks. “They might know what the key opened. Women talk, right?” He looks at Saskia, then at Imogen for confirmation.
“I think you’re making a mystery out of thin air,” Saskia says. “Besides, how would we even go about finding Mum’s friends?”
“She must’ve had an address book.” Tobias looks at me for confirmation, and I shrug. I don’t recall one, but that doesn’t mean one doesn’t exist.
“I’ll arrange for one of the staff to gather Mum’s things from storage. If there’s nothing in her office, maybe whatever this key opens ended up amongst her personal effects.” I don’t relish going through Mum’s things and bringing up painful memories, but if it solves the mystery of the key, I’ll do it.
“Good idea,” Nicholas says. “Christian and I will be back in a few days. Maybe we can go through her stuff together.”
“We’ll help,” Tobias says, glancing at Saskia, who nods.
“Great.” I sigh. “Like you say, maybe it’s nothing, or maybe it’s something.”
“Like who the real engineer behind yours and Annabel’s abduction was,” Nicholas says.
I shrug again. My siblings know I’ve never bought into the theory that those two guys I killed had masterminded our abduction. It was too meticulous, too well thought out. Until, that is, I escaped and set in motion a chain of events that’s haunted me ever since.
“It’s possible.”
“I hope so,” Christian says. “If anyone deserves answers, it’s you, Xan.”
“Yeah.” I squeeze Imogen’s hand to catch her attention and jerk my head toward the door. “There’s nothing else we can do for now, I guess. As it’s a beautiful day, I’m going to take my gorgeous wife for a ride.”
“Watch him, Imogen,” Tobias says, grinning. “You think he’s talking about horses, but I see the twinkle in his eye. He’s got a different kind of ride in mind.”
Imogen giggles. I roll my eyes. “You’re twenty-six, Tobias. Time to grow up? ”
“Good God, no. Never. Growing up sounds awfully boring, especially if you’re the poster child.”
Christian’s shoulders shake with suppressed laughter while Saskia punches Tobias on the arm. “You’re brave, dear brother. So brave.”
“Or stupid,” Nicholas says.
I leave my siblings to their banter. Once we’re out of earshot, I stop and encircle Imogen’s waist.
“I’d never admit this to Tobias, but he wasn’t wrong.”
She pretends she’s shocked, all wide eyes and rapid blinking. “Alexander De Vil, it’s the middle of the day.”
“Which means I have hours and hours to play with you.”
“I have work to do.”
“Californians don’t come online for ages yet. There’s plenty of time.”
“In that case, I may enjoy a little play of my own.” She reaches between our bodies and caresses my dick. It’s already halfway erect, but one touch from her, and it’s diamond hard.
I scoop her into my arms, her shriek echoing off the walls, no doubt alerting Tobias of my intentions. We may be out of earshot at normal decibel-level, but Imogen probably scared the horses with that cry. If Tobias says one word the next time I see him, I’ll knock his teeth out. Then again, my youngest brother doesn’t consider the consequences of his actions nor care about them all that much. He’d simply get a set of implants and carry on with his day.
The urge to be inside my wife is as strong as ever, but there’s something about her expression when I peel away her clothes, and then mine, that makes me pause.
Backing away a few feet, I grip myself at the root. Imogen drops to her knees, her eyes never leaving mine. The base of my spine heats, and my balls tighten. She parts her lips, and I rest the underside of my dick on her tongue. Even that faint touch has me close to the edge. I hope she never loses that innocence, or the way her big eyes lock onto mine, blinking as she closes her mouth around me and sucks. It’s my undoing every time.
Locking down any thoughts of coming, I relax into it. The pull of her mouth, the sweep of her tongue, the feel of her soft hands cupping my balls. I give out constant praise, and she hums and preens with each compliment.
“You take my dick so well, Imogen. Your mouth was made for me, just as your pussy was, too. Are you wet, Little Pawn?”
She swallows and blinks once.
“How wet? Show me.”
Reaching down, she swipes between her legs, then shows me her soaking fingers. I bend over and run my tongue over them, licking her clean. The taste of her drives me wild. I pull my dick out of her mouth and hold out my hand, helping her to her feet. “On the bed.”
“But you haven’t… come.”
God, I fucking love how she still struggles to say anything sexual without turning the color of a tomato.
“Oh, I will. After I’ve made you squirt on my face.”
I haven’t managed to make her do that since what I now think of as the night of two times. It’s not like an orgasm that, with the right amount of patience and attention to her bodily cues, is a cast-iron guarantee. She has to be in a hyper-relaxed state—a trance of sorts—where she forgets where she is, what she’s doing, and lets her body lead the way.
She lies on her back, her head resting on a single pillow. I stand at the foot of the bed and stare at her. She’s a beauty with her flame-red hair and pale skin—when she isn’t blushing—and luminous green eyes that showcase whatever she’s feeling. But she’s more than that. She’s my salvation. Somehow, she’s wrapped my broken heart in a sling of love and compassion and, without me noticing, she’s stitched me back together.
“I feel exposed when you stare at me like that.”
“Good. I want you exposed. I want you vulnerable when you’re with me.”
“Mission accomplished.”
I smile, kissing my way from her ankle to her knees, her thighs. When I bypass her glistening pussy, she growls in frustration, stirring a chuckle in my chest.
“You’re demanding today.”
Palming her thighs wide, I settle between them and devour her beautiful tits. I kiss her sweet mouth and bury my face in the crook of her neck. I take my time with her. When her body eases up, and she relaxes fully, I take up position between her legs. I lap at her, suck her hard little nub between my teeth, and slide two fingers inside her, angling them to reach the spot that makes her arch off the bed and scream my name.
The first pulse of her orgasm ripples against my fingers, her muscles undulating as her body does what it was designed to do. It’s the second pulse that gives me what I crave, and I feel like a fucking king as she soaks my face with her juices. A king lying at the feet of his pawn. I drink from her pussy and rub her clit until she grips my hair and pulls hard.
“Too much,” she mumbles. “I can’t…”
“Sensitive?”
“Yes. Hurts. ”
I lie beside her and encase her in my arms, our chests rising and falling as we catch our breath.
“Can you fuck me now?” She blushes, and I grin.
“I love you.” In case she’s still sensitive, I pull her on top of me and guide her onto my dick. That way, she has control. She sighs as she lowers herself all the way down, taking me right to the root. I sigh too. Her pussy is a salve to my soul.
“I love you, too.” She places both palms on my chest. “I tried so hard to make you hate me so you’d let me go, and now, I don’t want to live a single day without you.”
I frown, stilling her before she rises up. “Wait. All that stuff you did was so I’d be the one to end the marriage?”
“Yes.” She says it matter-of-factly, as though I should know this.
I begin to laugh, and within seconds, I can’t stop. “We’re idiots.”
“What do you mean?”
“I isolated you because I wanted you to end it. I couldn’t risk causing issues with The Consortium by making my father look weak. I needed you to be the one to demand a divorce.”
“And I couldn’t ask you because I was worried about what would happen to my father if I did.”
“We need adult supervision.”
She grins. “I think we’re managing fine on our own.” Her smile falters. “It must have taken a lot for you to have those divorce papers drawn up, then. Knowing what you’d be risking.”
My dick flexes, demanding I give it some relief. I thrust up into her, and she gasps.
“It was, but setting you free mattered more.”
The events that followed are still too raw for me to think about for long. I almost lost the woman the universe created as my partner, my equal, and it would have all been my own fault. I distract myself with another powerful thrust, and she stops talking and starts moving.
I don’t last long, nor do I try to hold back. When I come, I gaze into my wife’s eyes and tell her I love her again.
This beautiful, innocent, twenty-two-year-old woman has shown me more about love than I ever thought possible. I was lost, so lost, and she found me.
She found me, and she saved me from a life of misery.
It’s something I’ll never be able to repay her for, but you can fucking bet I’ll spend my life trying.