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MINE
NAUGHTY GIRL TWO

SAMMI STARLIGHT
Copyright © 2018 by Laura Pink
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or
mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without
written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a
book review.
Created with Vellum
CONTENTS
1. Paul
2. Alexandra
3. Paul
4. Alexandra
5. Paul
6. Alexandra
7. Paul
8. Alexandra
9. Paul
10. Alexandra
11. Paul
12. Alexandra
13. Paul
14. Alexandra
Epilogue
About the Author

Also by Sammi Starlight
1
PAUL
“A re you ready yet?” I called to Alexandra from the living

room, checking my watch. The Heaven and Hell party at
my club Backstage started in forty-five minutes and I
wanted to get there early. I was part owner of the club and it
wouldn’t look too good if I were late. We had to make sure
everything was set up; this party was Alexandra’s baby and I was
going to do everything I could to make sure it went smoothly.
“I’ll be there in a sec. These wings are a bitch to get on,” she
grumbled from our bedroom. I smiled at the frustration in her voice.
It was ironic she was dressing up as an angel for this party; she
was anything but angelic, but that was part of the reason I loved
her.
I’d met Alexandra when I came to the area to get away from my
life in New York. I hadn’t wanted to get attached to anyone again,
but there was something about this girl that touched my very soul. I
wanted her the minute I laid eyes on her. She fought me a bit, not
wanting to be tied down herself, but she eventually opened her
heart to me and allowed me to place a collar around her neck. We’d
been happy every since.
We’d gotten a house together recently and I loved living with her.
I was tempted to see if she was willing to take things to the next
level - marriage. I had a feeling that might spook her, but I’d been
thinking of mentioning it to test the waters.
I clicked the TV off and ran my fingers through my hair. This
woman could take being fashionably late to a whole new level.
“Alex,” I said sternly. “We have to go. This whole party was your
idea and if we’re late, it won’t look good at all.” Thankfully as a guy,
I just had to put on some black dress pants and a black button down
shirt. I had debated as to whether or not I’d wear my suit jacket too,
but it was too warm. The whole outfit took me ten minutes to put
on; I’d been ready almost an hour ago.
“I’m ready,” she said from behind me, her voice soft.
“It’s about fucking time,” I muttered, grabbing my keys and
turning to her. I stopped in my tracks, forgetting even my own
name. “Holy shit, Alex,” I gasped as I was greeted by the sight of
the sexiest angel I’d ever seen. I was suddenly grateful she’d
chosen this theme for the party.
My gaze moved over her, my cock instantly hardening in my
pants. Fuck, she looked hot. She was wearing a black corset
covered in lace that pushed her breasts up and together, barely
covering her nipples. If she danced tonight, they would probably fall
out. Then there was her black leather skirt - I wasn’t so sure I
wanted her to leave the house with a skirt so short. If she bent
over, everyone would be able to see her ass. I hoped she was
wearing something underneath it. She had on her thigh-high, black
vinyl boots and a vision of those legs wrapped around my waist later
came to mind.
Her dirty blonde hair was piled high on top of her head in some
sort of messy bun so one could easily see the silver collar I’d given
her, signifying she was mine. She’d trusted me with her neck after
turning away other Doms; seeing that around her neck always made
my heart skip a beat.
The final and sexiest part of her outfit was the black angel wings
that attached to the back of her corset. I had no idea what they
were made out of and I didn’t want to ask what she’d paid for them,
but seeing my girl with them took my breath away. I discovered at
that moment I had a fetish for angels. Who would’ve thought wings
could be so fucking hot?
“Well, how do I look?” she asked, twirling around in front of me,
her hands on her hips.
I walked up to her and placed her hand on the front of my dress
pants so she could feel what that little outfit did to me. “Totally
fuckable, Mine,” I replied with a wicked grin.
“Good,” she laughed. “Totally what I was going for.” She winked
up at me.
I shook my head; she was so sassy, but that was one of her
many charms. “Naughty Girl,” I mumbled, reaching out to encircle
her waist and pulled her tight against me. I pressed my hips hard
into hers. “I should spank you for being such a tease.”
She smiled softly and reached up to touch my face with her well-
manicured hand. “Maybe you should later,” she whispered, licking
her pouty lips, covered in bright red lipstick.
I leaned forward and captured her bottom lip between my teeth
and tugged gently. She closed her eyes and whimpered. I released
it and ran my tongue over it, sliding my hands down to grip her ass
in my hand. I loved her ass - I loved to grab it and spank it and fuck
it. Tonight I planned to do all three.
She touched her forehead to mine. “I thought we had to go.”
“Fuck,” I whispered breathlessly. “We do.” I pulled away but not
before smacking her ass lightly, giving her a preview of what would
come later. I was going to bend her sexy ass over my knee and
spank her until she came. When I alternated between fingering her
and spanking her, she would usually come hard all over my lap.
I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself. I had a raging
hard-on and it was taking all that was in me to not bend Alex over
the counter and fuck her until she screamed. I took her hand,
leading her out to the car. “Let’s go before I rip that corset from
your body and have my way with you.”
We drove in silence to the club, her hand in mine on the seat
between us. I ran my thumb over her knuckles, stealing glances at
her whenever I had a chance. I couldn’t get over how beautiful she
looked tonight. She always looked great, but tonight she definitely
was my sexy dark angel and I wasn’t sure if she was going to take
me to heaven or hell. Shit, she’d probably take me to both before
the night was through. I was having second thoughts about going
to this party; it would be so easy and so much more fun to turn the
car around and tie her to bed. I would tease her all night, until she
begged me to stop; then I would start all over again.
“Did you even hear me?” she asked, interrupting my thoughts.
I blinked, trying to get the picture of her bound, naked body out
of my head. “No, sorry,” I smiled sheepishly at her. “I was busy
thinking about you tied to our bed and me doing all sorts of naughty
things to you.”
She rolled her eyes at me and laughed. “Don’t you think about
that 99.9% of the time?”
I shrugged my shoulders, not trying to deny it; she knew me so
well. “When you dress like that I can’t help but have dirty thoughts
about you.” I said defensively.
“Right,” she mumbled. “Anyway, I asked you if Max was back
from California.”
My best friend and co-owner of the club, Max, had been in
California for a few weeks. He hadn’t told me what he was doing
there other than to say he had ‘family business’, whatever that
meant.
“No,” I replied, shaking my head. “I have no idea when he’s
going to be back either. He said he’d try to be back tonight, but
couldn’t promise anything. He’s been really vague on the phone
when I ask him and he won’t give me a hint to why he’s there.” I
gave her a quick look. “Honestly, I’m a worried about him. I have a
feeling this has to do with his late wife, but he won’t even let me
mention her name.”
Max had been married his college sweetheart and she was the
love of his life. She’d died in a horrible accident a few years ago. I
wasn’t sure what had happened exactly and Max was always really
vague when he talked about it. He hadn’t been the same since
she’d died; he hadn’t even been with another woman since her. He
maybe had a fling or two, but nothing serious. It was sad really.
Alex shook her head, the big silver hoops in her earlobes jingling.
“Poor guy.” She reached over and patted my hand. “Good thing
you have me to help you run the club while he’s gone.”
“Yes dear, good thing,” I chuckled, only half kidding. Shortly
after Alex and I had gotten together, she quit her job at the PR firm
she worked at and came to work for Max and me at the club. She
practically ran things, taking care of the staff and publicity -
everything. She did a kick ass job and I couldn’t be more proud of
her.
I glanced to the back seat where her angel wings were. There
was no way she could sit in the car with them on, so she’d removed
them and tossed them back there. “I love the idea you came up
with for tonight,” I smiled at her. “I had no idea wings could be so
fucking sexy.”
She arched an eyebrow at me, giving me her signature naughty
grin. “I have lots of things up my sleeve for tonight. This is just the
beginning. Just you wait and see.”
“I bet and I can’t wait,” I said as we pulled in the parking lot of
the club. Alex got out of the car and grabbed her wings from the
backseat. “Help me put them on?” she asked softly.
I nodded and walked over to her, attaching her wings to the back
of her corset. I let my hand linger longer than necessary on her
shoulder, not wanting to stop touching her. I leaned into her and
kissed her neck softly. “You look beautiful tonight, Mine,” I
whispered.
“Thank you, Master,” she replied quietly as I touched my collar
around her neck. It wasn’t often she called me that, but every time
she did, my heart swelled in my chest. Alex was mine.
After my ex-wife and the last woman I collared fucked me over
so bad, I never thought I’d fall in love again. I definitely never
thought I would collar anyone ever again. I met Alex and it felt right
I make her mine in every way. It was just natural to place my collar
around her neck.
“All of the other Doms are going to be so fucking jealous
tonight,” I boasted as I grabbed her hand and started walking into
the club. “Let’s go. I can’t wait to show you off.”
2
ALEXANDRA
“H oly shit, girl, you look fucking amazing!”

I grinned at the sound of my best friend Stephanie
behind me as I stood at the bar going over my list of
stuff for the party. Putting down my pen, I turned around and
struck a pose with my hands on my hips. “You think so?”
Stephanie nodded, her long red curls bouncing vigorously. “Um,
yeah.” She glanced around the club. “What did Paul say? Did he
even let you out of the house without attacking you?” I fought back
a laugh; Steph knew Paul pretty well. I had confided in her more
than once about our crazy sex life and she had him pegged pretty
well.
I laughed and shook my head. “I almost didn’t but then I
reminded him we couldn’t be late to my party at his club. He
reluctantly agreed and I managed to make it out of the house
without being mauled.”
Stephanie giggled. “I’m surprised. You look fucking hot.”
I dismissed her comment with a wave of my hand. “Whatever.
You look pretty sexy yourself.” Stephanie was dressed like a devil
tonight, wearing a sexy black dress that barely covered her full
figure, complete with devil horns on top of her head. “I bet Zach
loves it.”
“Yeah, I didn’t get out of the house without getting mauled,” she
winked at me. Stephanie and Zach had just gotten married six
months earlier and couldn’t keep their hands off of each other. They
were too cute and almost made me want to get married someday -
almost.
Stephanie glanced around the club. “You did a great job
decorating, Alex.”
“Thanks. I was here all day getting stuff ready. The staff hates
me,” I teased. “I worked their asses off. Then I had zero time to get
ready and Paul was on my ass to leave.”
“Well, I would say it’s worth it,” she said, motioning around her.
I looked around and I had to admit I’d outdone myself. I’d
basically split the club into two sides - one side was dark and full of
candles to look like the flames of hell. I’d had a couple cages put up
and girls were dancing in them. Some of them were dressed like
demons and a few had on outfits similar to mine. The other side of
the club had a softer feel with dim lighting and girls dressed as pure
white angels dancing around. Nine Inch Nails was blaring in the
background.
I had the staff dressed up in the theme of the night. About half
of them were angels and the other half was demons. Regardless,
everyone looked amazing and I was seriously impressed with how
they’d gone all out for this.
I watched the steady stream of people come in. The line must
have been backed up all the way outside and we were going to have
to start turning people away soon. The club’s regulars were already
present and we had visitors from some of the other local BDSM
clubs. I wiped my hands on my short leather skirt nervously. This
better go off without a hitch. I didn’t want Paul embarrassed by my
party if it failed.
A pair of strong hands circling my waist startled me. “Hi there,
Mine,” Paul whispered in my ear, his lips on my sensitive flesh.
I touched his hands with mine and smiled before turning around
in his arms. “Hey you,” I replied, snaking my arms around his neck.
“Hey Steph,” he said, turning and noticing her standing next to
me. His gaze moved up and down her white, lace-covered frame.
“Lookin’ hot. Zach’s going to have to beat the other Doms away
tonight, I think.”
She laughed and rolled her eyes. “I don’t know about that.” She
motioned to Alex. “I think you will be the one beating them off with
a stick tonight. Your girl is looking pretty fucking hot.”
He pulled me to him possessively. For someone that once hated
the idea of being ‘owned’ by anyone, I loved it when Paul got all
caveman on me. His eyes got dark and the look on his face was
sexy as fuck. “I’ll kick anyone’s ass that touches her,” he growled,
grabbing my ass in his hand. He was such an ass man.
I kissed his cheek. “Oh Master, you know I’m yours,” I
murmured against him.
“Damn right you are,” he muttered, reaching up to finger the
collar he’d placed around my neck. “This,” he hooked his finger
under it and tugged on it lightly. “Should deter them away.”
I brought a hand up to touch his cheek. “You have nothing to
worry about. I think everyone here is afraid of you. A lot of Doms
won’t even look at me, much less talk to me, knowing I’m your sub.”
He shrugged and smirked. “That’s fine with me.”
I laughed and looked around; the club was getting pretty full. “I
think you better go attend to your guests, especially the owners
from other clubs. Have to play the good host, you know,” I
reminded him.
“Join me, Mine,” he said, kissing my cheek as he put an arm
around my waist and pulled me close to his side. “This is just as
much your party as it is mine. You’re the hostess.”
I looked over to Stephanie with a smile and an apologetic shrug.
“Duty calls. Talk later?” I asked, grabbing my drink and taking a
sip.
She nodded. “For sure. Have fun!”
I turned back to Paul. “All yours now.”
He growled again and smacked my ass. “You’re always all mine.”
He leaned down bit my neck, making me gasp. “Maybe we should
do a scene tonight,” he muttered hoarsely against my flesh. “It’s
been awhile.”
“Maybe,” I reply breathlessly, unable to concentrate with his lips
on my skin.
“No.” He nipped the sensitive flesh again. “I don’t want to share
you in any way. I want to be the only one that sees how submissive
you are for me. We’ll play later at home; I have plans for that ass.
For now though, you’re right, we have guests, so let’s go. There’s a
few people here I want you to meet.”
P aul and I spent the next hour greeting the guests that had come to
our Heaven and Hell party. Some of the Doms were club owners
from a few hours away. Paul wasn’t too thrilled Max wasn’t there to
make a good first impression among the Doms, so I tried to be the
perfect hostess to help make up for it.
During a break from mingling, I noticed Stephanie and Zach out
dancing. We were sitting at the bar, having a drink, and I was ready
to have a little fun myself. I loved to dance and my favorite song by
Disturbed was on.
“Let’s go dance,” I exclaimed as I jumped up from my barstool.
He looked at me wearily; dancing was not his favorite thing to
do. I usually had to beg and plead to get him to dance with me.
“Please,” I pleaded, pressing my breasts into his arm and giving
him my saddest look.
He glanced down at my cleavage and groaned, taking a sip of his
drink. He had trouble denying me anything when I gave him that
look. “Ok, but just a few songs,” he agreed reluctantly. “Then we
need to make the rounds again. I’m sure we missed people.”
I nodded and took his hand, almost dragging him out to the
dance floor by Steph and Zach. Despite the fact he doesn’t like to
dance, he was actually a pretty good at it. As we dirty danced for a
few songs, I was tempted to ask him to take me back to one of the
play rooms in the club; the way he moved his body was giving me
the urge to get naked and have him do bad things to me. We didn’t
use the play rooms that often anymore, but once in awhile it was fun
to go back to where it all started between us.
Paul waved to someone off to the side of the dance floor and I
turned around to see where he was looking. Over by the bar stood
his best friend and co-owner of the club, Max. Looks like he was
back from California. It was about damn time.
He leaned in to whisper in my ear. “Max is here, I gotta go.”
I nodded and waved to Max, glad to see him. Paul had missed
him and had been worried about him. “I’ll stay out here with these
two,” I said in his ear, motioning to Steph and Zach.
He smiled and kissed my cheek. He turned to Zach. “Keep an
eye on her and don’t let anyone lay a hand on her.” I rolled my eyes
as Zach laughed and nodded; Paul was so over-protective.
He pulled me against him again. “Later, Mine, that ass is mine,”
he murmured into my ear. My nipples hardened instantly at his
promise.
“I’m counting on it,” I retorted before he turned to leave the
dance floor. I watched him leave, admiring his ass in his black dress
pants.
As excited as I’d been for the party, I couldn’t wait for it to end.
His ass was definitely mine.
3
PAUL
I walked over to my best friend and business partner, Max, who

was standing at the bar dressed in ratty jeans and an old Judas
Priest t-shirt. He must’ve come right from the airport or he’d
forgotten about tonight’s party.
“What’s up, man?” I asked with a grin, reaching a hand out to
shake his. Seeing him again made me realize just how much I’d
missed my friend. He reached an arm around my shoulder to half
hug me.
“Not much. Just got in.” He looked down at his grubby clothes.
“Sorry I’m not ‘dressed appropriately’. Alex is going to kill me, isn’t
she?” He grinned sheepishly and I glanced back out to the dance
floor where she was laughing with her friends.
I turned back to Max and shrugged. “I have a feeling she’ll
excuse you this one time. She’ll just be happy to see you, as I am.
We’ve been kinda worried. Is everything ok?”
The corners of his mouth turned down. “Yeah, I had to take care
of some stuff back in Cali. It’s all good.” He looked around the club.
“Looks like a good turnout for the party. How have things been
here otherwise?”
“Let’s go back to my office to talk about it. It will be quieter
there,” I replied. It was too hard to have a real conversation in the
club right now with the loud music and the crowd of people.
We headed to my office, threading our way through the throngs
of people. We got there and I closed the door behind us so we
could talk in peace and quiet. I sat down behind my desk and Max
took a seat across from me.
“Alex really outdid herself this time didn’t she?” he asked me with
a crooked smile.
I nodded and grinned. “Yes she has. My little sub has put
together one hell of a party. I’d already heard comments we needed
to make this a regular thing. Maybe we can do a theme a month or
something. We’ll have to make sure we didn’t lose money on this
one, but judging by the crowd out there, I’m sure we will do just
fine.
Max leaned back in his chair and ran his hand through his
bleached blonde hair. His crystal blue eyes looked tired and I had a
feeling his trip had worn him out. “I think hiring her to do our PR
and events was the best idea you ever had.”
“I agree. She’s done a great job and she’s also really flourished.
She was born to do this sort of thing. The club members love her,
the vendors love her - she can sweet talk the clothes off of a nun.”
“That she can,” he said, rolling his eyes. Before I’d come along,
Alex had made her way through a lot of the single Doms at the club,
except for Max. He was the only person I’d met that seemed to be
immune to her charms. She told me once she hadn’t really tried to
get Max in bed. She’d flirted with him a bit, but he gave her the cold
shoulder right off the bat, so she didn’t pursue him anymore.
“You look tired, dude. You should go home,” I urged him. As
happy as I was to see him, Alex and I had the party covered. I’d
put him to work in a couple of days.
“Are you sure? I can run and change and come back,” he said,
stifling a yawn.
“I’m sure. We got it - at least Alex does. She tells me where I
need to go and when. I’m not even sure she needs me here,” I
laughed, standing up.
“Ok, but call me if anything comes up all.” He got up and headed
to the door. “Call me tomorrow and let me know how it all goes.
We can cover what I missed these past few weeks too.”
“Will do, man,” I said, opening the door.
He turned around and shook my hand. “Thanks for
understanding. I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he said before making his
way back through the crowd of people to get to the door.
I scrubbed my face with my hand. Something was going on with
Max. He’d done so much for me since my divorce from Jessica,
letting me come here and making me a partner in his club, I wanted
to repay the favor. I’d give him a little time to recover from his trip,
but then I was going to push him for some answers. He would do
the same for me.
I checked my watch. It was midnight and the party still had two
more hours left. I really should go back out and talk to the guests.
A better idea would be to find Alex and drag her back here to my
office so I could fuck her silly.
As I was headed out the door to search for her, Tank, the head of
the club’s security stopped in front of me. “Got a second, boss?” he
asked, a look of concern on his face.
I fought back a sigh. Guess Alex would have to wait. Sometimes
being the owner sucked; I couldn’t just have fun and enjoy the
party, I had to work too. “Sure, sit down,” I said, motioning to a
chair by my desk. I sat back down behind my desk. “What’s up,
Tank?”
“This party is awesome, sir, but if we do this again, we need to
hire more security. My guys are stretched thin tonight and I don’t
want to miss anything. I probably shouldn’t even be in here right
now, but I wanted to mention this to you before I forgot.”
I nodded. “Agreed. I think it got a little bigger than we’d
planned but we’ll have it covered next time and hire some extra
people.” I leaned my elbows onto my desk. “What’s going on that
you think I should know about right now?”
“Thanks, boss. Well, we’re not sure,” he said trailing off.
“Yes?” I asked, concerned; it wasn’t like Tank to be nervous to
tell me anything. He was usually a pretty straight shooter, telling me
like it is.
He took a deep breath. “I’m sure it’s nothing but there was
some guy out front causing a ruckus about not being let in. He
wasn’t in costume or on any list and one of my guys thought he was
Alex’s old boyfriend.”
“Will?” I asked, my mouth suddenly going dry.
“Yeah, I think that’s what he said. They paged me to deal with
him, but he’d left before I even got out there. No one could say for
sure it was him. We can check the security cameras tomorrow to be
sure.”
“Tank,” I said, peering at him. “I want you guys to be on high
alert for him in case he comes back.” I pointed my finger at him. “I
want you personally to keep an eye on Alex for awhile when she’s
here. Don’t let her out of your sight without telling me where she is.
I will pay you extra.” I slammed my hand on the desk. “Fuck! I’d
really like you to be her personal body guard when she’s not with
me, but that just won’t be possible without alerting her to what’s
maybe going on and I don’t want to do that.”
“Yes, sir,” he replied with a nod. “I’ll make sure I’m near her
always if you aren’t around.”
“Good. Now go back out there and watch that front door like a
hawk. Max went home, but he has his cell and you let him or me
know if anything strange comes up, no matter how little, ok?”
“Got it.” He stood up and left my office without saying another
word.
Shit, was Will back? I couldn’t wait to check the security
cameras tomorrow to see. We hadn’t seen or heard from him since
the night in Alex’s apartment a year and a half ago when he tried to
attack her. I wasn’t going to tell Alex yet, not until I was sure. I
didn’t want to worry her over nothing. Maybe I would see if I could
check them now.
“Hey you.”
I looked up before I had a chance to log in to check our security
camera feed and saw my dark angel standing in the doorway to my
office, leaning against the door frame.
“Hey,” I replied, my voice almost a whisper. She was a sight for
sore eyes. Despite the dancing and warm club, she still looked
amazing, her hair and makeup perfectly in tact.
She walked over to me and wrapped her arms around my neck.
“You looked pretty deep in thought there, mister. What’s wrong? Is
Max ok?”
I turned my head and kissed her cheek. Max was a good excuse
for my look of concern, and then I wouldn’t have to say what was
really on my mind. “I’m not sure. He seems tired and won’t talk to
me about his trip. I’m going to give him a few days and then push
for some answers.”
She gave me a squeeze. “You’re a good friend.”
“Just trying to repay the favor. He was good to me when I
needed him.” I stood up from my chair reached up to smooth the
stray hairs from her forehead, overcome with the urge to protect her
and keep her safe. Mine. I wanted to taker her out to the car and
leave this place - just drive until we ran out of gas.
“Did he go home?”
“Yeah, I sent him home. He was in rough shape. Not sure if it
was from the trip or because he’d been traveling all day.”
“Well, some people are looking for you, so you have to come out
of hiding,” she grinned at me.
I groaned, letting her drag me out of my office. I’d rather stay in
here with her or better yet take her home. “Okay okay, you lead the
way, Mine.”
4
ALEXANDRA
“I think the party was a huge success, don’t you?” I asked

Paul as I flipped off the light behind the bar. The Heaven
and Hell party at the club wrapped up about ninety
minutes ago and we were finally done making sure things were
cleaned up. My feet were killing me and I couldn’t wait to get out of
my boots and slip into bed.
He sauntered over to me with a crooked grin on his face. He
grabbed the bottom of my corset and pulled me against him. “It
was a huge fucking success, Mine. You blew everyone’s mind
tonight. I actually had a few Doms here from other clubs asking me
if they could borrow you for their PR.” He leaned his head down and
planted a soft kiss on my neck.
My jaw dropped at his words. “Seriously? What did you tell
them?” Surprised by his comment, I barely noticed his hand
creeping its way up the back of my skirt.
“Mmm?” he mumbled, his lips moving behind my ear. “I told
them they had to talk to you. I’ll support whatever you want to do.
You know I trust you and your ability.” He gripped my ass his hands
and squeezed tight, causing a gasp to escape my lips. “Now let’s
get your sexy ass home. I’ve been thinking about fucking my dark
angel all damn night long.”
I threw my head back and laughed softly, forgetting about my
exhaustion. I couldn’t resist him when he started talking dirty.
“Sounds good to me,” I said, leaning over and grabbing my wings
off the bar. “What about these? Am I supposed to leave these on?”
He nodded. “Oh yes, you have to leave those on too while I fuck
you. Let’s go before I take you here on the bar.” He reached down
and adjusted his erection in his pants. I licked my lips, thinking
about giving him a blowjob in his office to help relieve some of his
tension.
I arched an eyebrow suggestively. “That could be fun too,” I
murmured, circling my hips against his. I loved to tease him. “Or we
could back to your office.”
“You’re right,” he agreed. “It could be, but I’d rather do it at
home. Come on,” he urged me, shaking his head slightly in
amusement at my pout.
The drive home was quiet and quick. It was almost four AM and
there was barely any traffic on the road. I glanced over and noticed
the whites of his knuckles as he held the steering wheel tight. He
seemed so intense and desire pooled between my legs. I had a
feeling I was going to be well fucked before the sun came up.
We arrived at home and headed into the house, neither of us
saying a word. Before I even had a chance to turn on a light, he
grabbed my arm and whispered, “Mine.” A gasp sounded from my
lips; I loved when he called me that.
He pushed me up against the wall in the hallway and kissed me,
his lips moving roughly over mine as his hand snaked between my
legs. He rubbed my hot flesh through my thong as he continued to
kiss me.
He tore his lips from me, his breathing ragged. “Alex, you’re
mine. I saw the way some of the Doms looked at you tonight.
While I’m proud they find you so desirable, it makes me want to
kick their asses for looking at my woman.” He bent down and kissed
along my neck, just above my collar. “You wear my collar.”
I nodded and whimpered, my thong drenched now. He lifted my
hands above my head and pinned them against the wall with one
hand so I couldn’t move. He dragged his teeth along my shoulder
as he reached underneath my skirt, his fingers on my thong. “I
don’t think you need this anymore,” he growled and ripped the
flimsy cloth from me. I moaned and shivered; it wasn’t the first time
he’d torn my panties from me, but every time it made my sex
clench.
He drove two fingers into my dripping pussy, his thumb pressing
my swollen bud. He kissed me again while keeping me trapped
against the wall. I circled my hips against his hand, the pressure
building in my womb. He pinched my clit and pulled his fingers from
me roughly as I was about to come. I bit my lip and fought back a
moan of frustration.
“I was going to bend you over my knee and spank you tonight
when we got home, but instead I’m going to fuck you right now,
Mine. We’ll save the spanking for later. Undo my pants.” He
released my arms from above my head and my hands went
immediately to his belt buckle. They were shaking as I undid his
belt. I was literally aching for him to be inside me.
I undid the clasp on his pants before sliding down the zipper.
“Good girl,” he murmured as he watched me, unbuttoning his shirt.
I hooked my fingers in the waistband of his pants and boxers and
slid them down, watching his erection bob free.
My fingers encircled him and I started to guide it to my mouth
when he pulled me up. “Not tonight,” he whispered, his blue eyes
staring into mine. “Tonight, I just want to bury my cock in my tight
wet pussy.” He slipped out of his shirt, throwing it to the floor.
A gasp came from my lips as he lifted me and pressed me up
against the wall. The wall was cold against my hot flesh but I didn’t
care as I wrapped my legs around him, feeling the tip of his shaft
probe my throbbing pussy. He cupped my ass tight in his fingers,
his nails digging into the sensitive flesh, and entered me with one
hard thrust. My head fell back against the wall, my body stretching
to accommodate him inside me.
His thrusts were deep, his pubic bone grinding against my clit.
His breath was hot on my neck while I dug my nails into his
shoulders. “Come for me, my angel,” he whispered before capturing
my ear between his teeth.
I whimpered and nodded, my hands sliding down his chest,
running my fingertips over his nipples. He loved when I touched
him there and he released a harsh groan from deep in his throat.
“I’m not going to last much longer, Mine.” He bit my neck as his
thrusts got faster.
“Master!” I cried out as I tumbled over the edge of my orgasm,
fireworks going off behind my closed eyelids.
He thrust hard into me a couple more times, swelling bigger
inside me before exploding. He buried his face in my neck, his
breathing ragged as my pussy milked every last drop from him.
He held me up against the wall as our waves of pleasure
subsided, my boot clad legs still wrapped around him and my arms
around his neck. I planted a tiny kiss on his shoulder. “We forgot
the wings,” I murmured.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “You can put them on later for me.” He
slipped out of me and I untangled my legs from around his waist
before he helped me stand. “Right now, it’s time for a shower.
Then who knows what toys I might want to use on you.” He
winked at me and threw me over his shoulder, carrying me off to the
bathroom. It was almost sunrise, but I had a feeling he wasn’t even
close to done with me yet.
W e laid in bed later , our limbs tangled together and wrapped in a

sheet as we watched the sun come up from our bedroom window.
He’d fucked me in the shower, taking my ass hard from behind. He
loved to fuck me there and I certainly couldn’t complain. He was
always gentle, making sure I was more than ready for him. It also
helped I always had the most mind-blowing orgasms when we had
anal sex.
He then carried me from the shower to our bed where he tied
me up and teased me with his mouth for what felt like hours before
letting me come and fucking me again. We hadn’t slept yet and I
was so exhausted. From partying all night to the vigorous
lovemaking since we got home, I was spent.
He kissed my temple softly. “What’re you thinking about?” he
asked quietly, lacing his fingers with mine before bringing my hand
to his mouth and kissing it gently.
I shrugged and smiled. “How I’m so tired right now and I can’t
believe we are still up after the party and that I probably won’t be
able to walk decent all day tomorrow.”
He laughed and pulled me against him. “Good thing we can
sleep in.”
I nodded and kissed his chest. “Maybe we can stay in bed all
day?” I asked hopefully. We hadn’t done that in months. When we
first moved in together, we would lock ourselves away for days, even
turning off our phones. Life had gotten too busy to allow us to do
that lately.
“That sounds amazing. We haven’t done that in forever, have
we?” He pulled me on top of him. “Wanna know what I was
thinking about?”
I looked into his blue eyes, my breasts pressed against his chest
and his cock stirring against my thigh. “I can just imagine.” I rolled
my eyes and wiggled my hips against him.
He smacked my ass lightly, making giggle. “Not that,” he scolded
me. “Although...” he arched an eyebrow and rubbed my ass where
he just spanked me. “In all seriousness, I was thinking about
marrying you.”
My eyes widened and my mouth went dry. “Marriage?” I asked,
scooting off of him. We’ve never even said that word when it came
to our relationship and us. I always thought we were fine with the
way things were.
He rolled over on his side, propping up his head on his elbow to
look at me. He ran his hand up my thigh. “Yes Mine, marriage.” He
reached up to touch my face.
“I’ve never really thought about it,” I admitted, touching his
hand. Paul was the first guy I had a serious relationship with. I’d
watched my mother go through husbands like most people change
their underwear and I swore I would never get married. They always
left her and I had to pick up the pieces of her broken heart. There
was no way any man was going to do that to me.
“I know, I hadn’t either, but the longer we’re together, the more I
want to make you completely mine, Alex - in every way. I know you
wear my collar, but I want you to wear my ring too.” He took my
hand and kissed it again, looking up at me. “I want you to have my
last name.”
I snuggled into him. “Can we talk about it some other time? I’m
tired and need to sleep,” I urged, not really wanting to talk about
this subject anymore.
He put his arm around me with a sigh. “Ok, but we will discuss
this again, and soon,” he said, smoothing my hair with his hand.
As I drifted off to sleep I mentally ran through the list of excuses
I had for why marriage was not a good idea. Hopefully I would
remember them when he decided to bring this up again.
5
PAUL
I sat in my office at the club the evening after the big Heaven
and Hell party. Alex and I spent most of the day in bed but I
wanted to come in and check the security cameras to see if Will
really had shown up the night before, so I came into the office while
she did some shopping with her best friend Stephanie. I told her I
had some paperwork and other stuff I wanted to do for a few hours.
She’d pouted some like the sexy brat she was, but was happy when
I agreed to meet them for dinner later along with Stephanie’s
husband Zach.
Before I had a chance to check the camera feeds, I was fielding
calls, emails, and texts most of my time in the office regarding Alex
and her awesome Heaven and Hell party. It was the talk of the
BDSM community and all the clubs in the surrounding area wanted
her to hire her to plan one for them; a few even asked if she was
available to do their PR. My smile got bigger with each compliment
and request until I thought my face would crack. I sent her a quick
text to let her know what a hit she’d been.
Everyone wants to hire you for a party, Mine.
I didn’t have to wait long for a response.
Awesome, give them my number.
I chuckled softly. Little did she know I already had.
Will do. See you in a bit. Love you.
Love you too.
I was glad to see that response from her. I’d spooked her last
night when I brought up marriage. She’d been quick to change the
subject and go to sleep. Maybe it had been a mistake but I needed
to tell her how I felt. I didn’t want there to be any doubt in her
mind I loved her with all that was in me and I wanted her to be
mine forever.
I’d been married once before and been fucked over so bad, I
swore I would never get married again. She’d slept with one of my
best friends and took away my club; I’d never even wanted to give
my collar to another woman after what that bitch had done to me.
Then I met Alex, falling hard and fast for the blond-haired,
spunky beauty. Now I couldn’t imagine life without her. She was
sexy and full of spirit - my perfect match in so many ways.
I answered a few more emails and was about check the camera
feed from last night when the club hostess working that night, Lexi,
knocked on my door, “Sir, there’s someone here to see you.”
I glanced at my watch; I had thirty minutes before I had to meet
Alex and I really wanted to see if Will had been here. “Who is it?” I
asked, hoping this would be quick.
She shrugged and shook her head. “Some woman...I’ve never
seen her before. She says she knows you from New York? She’s
insisting on seeing you.”
My heart sunk to my stomach. Jessica. It couldn’t be. What the
fuck was she doing here?
“What’s the matter, Paul, don’t want to see me?”
In walked my ex-wife, practically pushing Lexi out of her way, her
three-inch stilettos clicking on the floor of my office. Her black hair
was longer than I remembered, flowing down to the middle of her
back, her sunglasses pushed back on her head. She still dressed the
same - wearing a designer black sleeveless dress that probably cost
her almost as much as Alex and I pay for our house in a year and
was so tight she almost had to shuffle in. Her heavily made-up green
eyes peered into mine as she greeted me with a smirk.
I nodded to Lexi. “You can go, I’ll take care of his.”
She glanced over to Jessica nervously. “Ok, let me know if you
need anything,” she said before she left, shutting the door behind
her.
I sighed and leaned back in my chair, crossing lacing my fingers
behind my head. “Why are you here, Jessica? What do you want?”
She sat down in the chair in front of my desk, crossing her long
legs and giving me a sweet smile that used to get her whatever she
wanted from me - now it just made me sick. “Who says I want
anything?”
I rolled my eyes. “Let’s not play games. You have no reason to
be here unless you need something from me.”
“I missed you,” she said, batting her eyes at me. I felt the bile
rise in my throat. When I thought back to how much I loved her and
everything I did for her, I wanted to vomit. It was tough, but I’d
learned my lesson where Jessica was concerned.
I got up from my chair with a small grunt of disgust. “Right.
When I left New York, I gave you everything I had so I never had to
see or talk to you again. Now you show up here a year and a half
later. What’s the deal?” I walked over to the whisky I had on a
table in the corner, pouring myself some. If I was going to deal with
Jessica without killing her, drinking would have to be involved to
calm my nerves. I picked up the glass and threw it back, the liquid
burning down my throat.
“Rick left me,” she mumbled.
Had I heard her right? “What?” I asked, pouring myself another
drink. At this rate I was going to have to take a cab to meet Alex or
have her come get me.
Jessica sighed, standing up to join me. “Rick left me. Found
some pain slut younger than me and left me. And I mean he left.
He moved to California and took all his shit. It’s just me running
the club.” She put her hand on my arm. “I need your help.”
I pulled my arm away quickly as if her touch burned me; when I
left, I swore I’d never see Jessica again, much less let her touch me.
I laughed and shook my head. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding
me, Jessica. I’m not helping you, not after what you did to me. You
ruined me, you took the club I worked my ass off for, and left me
with nothing.”
“Then come home, Paul. Come back and we can run the club
together again,” she said, her eyes filling with tears. “I need you.”
“No, Jessica,” I responded quietly, almost feeling sorry for her.
“I’ve moved on. Despite what you did, I’ve built a life here and I’m
happy.”
She rolled her eyes and snorted. “Please, in this small town?
What could be keeping you here? This club is crap compared to
what you once had. Is it Max? Bring him along. I’m sure he’d love
to get out of this shit hole too. The three of us can be partners.”
I glanced over at her in disgust. She had no shame and a lot of
nerve to come back here after the shit she dragged me through and
ask me to come back to New York.
“I’m with someone.” Maybe that will shut her up.
She was quiet for a second, as if her mind was processing what I
just said. Maybe she was surprised I was able to move on and she
expected me to be sitting here, pining away for her. “What did you
say?”
“I’m with someone,” I repeated for her, speaking slowly to make
sure she got it this time.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Is it serious?”
I licked my lips and smiled a little, recalling my conversation with
Alex the night before about marriage. “Yes, it’s serious.”
“Did you -?”
“Collar her?” I asked, interrupting her. “Yes, I did. She wears my
collar and I hope soon she will wear my ring.”
She stared at me, her mouth hanging open. It wasn’t often
anyone can render Jessica speechless and I relished the moment.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously,” I said, walking back to my desk. “If you don’t mind,
I’m supposed to meet her and some friends for dinner in about ten
minutes. I suggest you go back to New York and figure out a way to
save your club.”
“It’s your club too, Paul,” she said, her eyes filling with tears.
I shook my head. “No, it’s not, not anymore. You made sure of
that long ago.” I nodded at the door. “Now go, Jessica, and don’t
come back. Ever.”
Her hands were clenched at her sides and I got the feeling she
wanted to say a whole lot more to me but she knew me better than
anyone and knew I wouldn’t put up with any shit.
She slung her designer purse over her shoulder. “If you change
your mind, you know where to find me,” she muttered, walking
toward the door.
“I won’t,” I mumbled, watching her walk out the door. I grabbed
my keys and sent Alex a quick text I was on my way. I’d check the
security camera tomorrow. Right now I couldn’t wait to see her and
wrap my arms around her. She was nothing like Jessica and I was
more determined than ever to get her to agree to marry me. She
was my future and I want to make sure she knew that.
6
ALEXANDRA
“H e actually said the word - ‘marriage’?” Stephanie asked

from across the clothing rack, not even looking up as
she searched for the perfect pair of jeans, her eyebrows
furrowed with intense concentration. “Doesn’t he know that’s the
sure way to make you bolt?”
I’d met her out for a little bit of shopping while Paul went into
the club to check in after the party last night. I loved our time at the
club, but I needed a break from the place once awhile. We were
going to do a little shopping before Paul and her husband Zach met
us out for dinner. I needed a little girl time to discuss the events
from the night before.
At first I pouted, not wanting to leave the house at all today. Paul
had insisted he had to go to the club and suggested I call Steph for
a little shopping before the four of us went to dinner. I couldn’t say
no to shopping, so I’d agreed, wanting to tell her about our
conversation last night, or actually this morning.
I was sort of freaking out after Paul’s discussion of marriage.
Neither of us had brought it up all day, but I tried to avoid any
serious conversation with him all day. We stayed in bed late, waking
up only to get some coffee and read. He’d made me a big breakfast,
taking care of me like he always did, and then we’d taken a nap. I’d
been on edge the whole time, waiting for him to mention it again.
“Yep, we’d just had sex for the fourth time since getting home at
four AM. The sun was coming up and I was drifting off to sleep
when he said the ‘m’ word. It took all that was in me not to bolt
from the bed,” I replied, pulling a shirt from the wall and holding up
against me. “I barely slept the rest of the night.”
She rolled her eyes at me. She’d known me forever and was well
aware of my issues with marriage. Happily married herself, she loved
to tease me about the fact I swore I’d never get married. “Don’t be
so dramatic, Alex. He mentions marriage one time and you’re ready
to run. I thought his ex had hurt him too much anyway and he
wasn’t interested in tying the knot again either.”
“That’s what I thought,” I shrugged and set the shirt back on the
hook. Other than some lingerie I knew Paul would like, I hadn’t
bought much. This shopping trip was ending up to be a bust. My
heart wasn’t into it.
“That’s why I thought he’d be the perfect guy for me - he didn’t
want marriage either.” I reached up and touched the collar Paul had
placed around my neck. I actually had two collars - one that we
used for play and then something I could wear every day and people
would just think it was a regular necklace. I sighed in frustration.
“He was lucky to get the collar around my neck. He’s got another
thing coming if he thinks I’ll marry him.”
Stephanie threw her jeans over her arm. “Don’t worry about it.
He brought it up once.” She started walking up to the counter to
check out. She paused and turned around. “If you ask me, I think it
takes more commitment to wear a collar than to get married, but
that’s just me. I think it’s a deeper commitment than a piece of
paper.” She continued her walk to the counter to pay for her jeans.
What did she mean? Was she right? Maybe I was overreacting.
My phone chirped and I pulled it out of the pocket of my jeans. It
was a text from Paul letting me know he would be leaving soon. I
smiled as I typed out a response, telling him to meet us at our
favorite Mexican restaurant.
See you soon, Mine. Love you.
Love you too, Master.
He got me every time he called me that. I would get butterflies in
my stomach and I felt so submissive - all I wanted to do was please
him and do whatever he said.
“If he makes you grin like that, maybe you should marry him.”
Stephanie quipped at me from over my shoulder.
I shoved my phone back into my pocket and turned around to
give Stephanie a dirty look. “Whatever.” I glanced down to the bags
she was carrying. “Are you ready? I told Paul to meet us at our
Mexican restaurant soon.”
She nodded. “Yep, I’ll call Zach along the way to let him know
we’re ready for dinner. He’s going to get dropped off so we just have
one car.” She hooked her arm in mine. “Let’s go, I need a margarita
and I’m starving.”
“Me too. Let’s go meet our hot men.” I laughed as we walked out
of the store, our earlier conversation about marriage forgotten.
“O h my god , I’m so hungry. Where are those boys?” I mumbled,

looking towards the door. We’d been sitting at the restaurant for
about twenty minutes already and neither Paul nor Zach had shown
up. We were already on our second drink and if I didn’t get some
food soon, I was going to end up tipsy before we even ordered.
“Let’s get some chips and salsa while we wait. I’m starving,”
Steph said, waving our waiter over to get us some chips while we
waited.
“Don’t say anything to Paul about what I told you today. If it was
nothing, I don’t want him thinking I want to get married and if he
did mean it, I don’t want him to know I gave it another thought.”
She put her menu down. “Alex, please. You are way overreacting
about this, but don’t worry, I won’t say a word. I promise.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.” I glanced towards the
door and noticed Steph’s husband Zach at the hostess table. “Zach’s
here.” I pointed him and her face lit up like a Christmas tree. Maybe
marriage didn’t kill the romance. They were still newlyweds though.
Wait until they’d been married a ten years. Her face wouldn’t light
up like that for him the. Or would it.
Zach came over to us with a big smile on his face. He was tall
and thin, his long legs reaching us in a few strides. He had jet-black
hair that matched his black-rimmed glasses. He’d come from a game
of golf with his dad and was wearing khaki shorts and a blue golf
shirt. I still couldn’t believe my rough-around-the-edges best friend
had ended up with a preppy boy.
Steph had been drawn to him because of his quiet demeanor. I’d
been surprised to find out he was a Dom, but she assured me he
was very dommy when they were alone. He made her happy and
treated her well; I couldn’t as for anything more for my best friend.
“Hey baby,” he said, leaning down to kiss her softly. He buried his
hand in the back of her red curls and tugged her head back gently
so he had better access to her lips.
“Hi you,” she replied breathless when their kiss ended. “Missed
you today,” she leaned over and whispered to him as he sat down. I
had to fight the urge to gag. They were lucky I loved them so much
or I wouldn’t put up with their sappy, romantic bullshit.
“Hi, Alex,” he said, finally seeming to notice me at the table too.
“That was a kick ass party you threw last night.”
“Hey, Zach. Yeah, so I heard. I’m glad everyone had fun. Paul
told me some of the other Doms from nearby clubs want to hire me
to do PR for them and plan a similar event. Wild.”
“That’s so cool. Where is Paul?” He glanced around the
restaurant.
“He should be here any minute. Maybe I should call him and see
where he is,” I mutter, reaching down to pull my phone from my hot
pink Coach purse.
“He’s here!” Steph exclaimed and I put my phone away. There he
was, sexy as all get out in his jeans and white button down shirt. My
heart started to beat faster as he approached the table. He smiled at
me, but he looked tired. Maybe he was still worn out from last night.
He kissed my ear. “Hello, Mine,” he whispered before sitting down
at the chair next to me.
“Hey, I was beginning to worry and was just about to call you.” I
reached out and clasped his hand with mine, giving him a gentle
squeeze.
He sighed and ran his hand through his sandy blonde hair. “I’m
sorry, something came up before I left the office.”
“Is everything ok? Have you talked to Max at all today?” I was
suddenly worried; Paul was pretty good at leaving club issues at the
club, but what else could it be?
“I haven’t talked to Max, no. He was pretty beat last night, so I
was giving him today to get some rest. Tomorrow I’m going over
there to see what’s going on with him. I’m tired of him shutting me
out.” He leaned back in his chair and scrubbed his hands over his
face. He looked utterly exhausted. Maybe I should get him home
and into a hot bath.
“Do you want to go?” I asked softly, chewing on my bottom lip.
He reached out and cupped my cheek. “No, I’m good. I just need
a drink.” He looked around for the waiter.
The rest of the meal was uneventful. Paul seemed to have
shaken whatever had been bothering him when he arrived. He
debated with Zach who the best team in the NFL was for the
upcoming season while Steph and I talked about the latest episode
of the Housewives of Beverly Hills.
We ended up at the bar after dinner, having a drink, feeling a
little buzzed after three margaritas and a shot of tequila. Paul and I
had been exchanging looks for the past hour, making me wonder
what was going through his mind and what he was going to do to
me when we got home. My panties were already damp at all the
different things that went through my mind.
I was about to grab his hand and head out when Steph opened
her big mouth. “I heard you had some good feedback about Alex’s
party last night.”
Paul nodded and wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me
close. “Yes, many club members have raved to me how they loved
the party and want another one soon. I’ve had a few local club
owners email and call me too, asking if Alex was for hire to do their
PR and event planning.” He kissed my temple. “I’m quite proud of
Mine.”
My nipples got tight with the feel of his lips on me and the clean
scent of his close proximity. I wasn’t so sure I would be able to wait
until we got home; I might have to attack him in the car.
It was crazy he had this effect on me. We’d certainly had plenty
of sex the night before - and this morning, but my thoughts
consisted of both of us being naked. After the craziness of last night,
the idea of a night with just the two of us seemed like a great idea.
“Are you going to work for the other clubs?” Steph asked, not
seeming to notice the look I was giving her to shut up so Paul could
take me home. Didn’t she remember our signals from back in our
clubbing days when we were both single?
I shrugged. “Not sure. I’ll have to talk to each one and see what
they want.” I glanced over at Paul. “That is if Paul and Max are
willing to share me.”
He growled and reached down to squeeze my ass. “I don’t
share,” he chuckled. “But for something like that, I would probably.
As long as you took care of Backstage first, I don’t care what you do
for other clubs. I’m sure Max would say the same.”
Zach finished his beer and glanced around at the rest of us with
our drinks. “What’s next? The club? Or somewhere else?”
“I think we’ll just head home,” Paul answered, much to my relief.
I did not want to go out tonight, especially after last night.
Steph looked at me with an arched eyebrow. “You sure? Home?”
I nodded back. “Yes, I’m still tired not only from last night, but
from the last few weeks. It was a lot of work to get that party
organized and now I just want to sleep for about a week.”
She laughed and gave me a hug. “Ok, I’ll call you tomorrow.” She
gave Paul a kiss on the cheek while I hugged Zach.
“Take care you guys,” Paul said, grabbing my hand and leading
me out of the restaurant. He didn’t say much as we walked out to
his car; he seemed to be on a mission to get us out of there.
We arrived at his car and he pinned me against my door before
letting me in. He pressed his hips into mine, his erection straining
against his jeans. “I need you tonight, Mine,” he whispered hoarsely,
his forehead against mine.
I reached up to touch his cheeks, not sure what had gotten into
him, but I couldn’t say I minded. “I’m all yours,” I whispered back.
He moaned softly, his lips against mine. “We better go before I
take you here against the car door,” he mumbled, reaching around
me to open the car door. I slid inside as he closed the door behind
me.
He almost ran over to the driver side door and got in. “Let’s hope
I don’t get pulled over on the way home,” he mumbled as he sped
out of the parking lot of the restaurant. I gripped the door handle
and squeezed my thighs together. He better drive fast.
7
PAUL
I didn’t say a word to Alex as we started the drive home. I was

overcome with all the different emotions I was feeling right
now. After the success of the party last night, I was seeing her
in a whole new light. I’d always known she was smart, but what
she’d planned last night validated that. She was in high demand in
the BDSM club world and it was a little bit overwhelming.
My protectiveness was in overdrive with the thought that Will
might be back and trying to see Alex. He’d put her through hell for a
while and I wasn’t about to let him worm his way back into her life.
Then there was Jessica. I was less than thrilled to see her in
town today. Where was she staying? Would she leave? She better; I
didn’t really want Alex to end up running into her. Alex was my
future and I wanted keep my past behind me.
“Are you ok, Paul?” she asked, her voice filled with concern.
I sighed. Maybe I should just tell her Jessica showed up today. I
couldn’t keep another secret from her. We promised each other no
secrets.
“There’s a reason I was late to dinner tonight,” I mumbled,
keeping my eyes on the road. “Jessica showed up at my office right
before I was going to leave.”
She looked over at me, her eyebrows furrowed with confusion.
“Jessica who?”
I didn’t say anything, glancing over at her and watching her face
change when she figured out who I meant.
“Jessica as in your ex-wife Jessica?” she asked.
I drew my lips into a tight line and nodded. “Yes, that Jessica.”
“What the fuck did that bitch want?”
A smile played at the corners of my mouth. Sometimes she swore
like a trucker but it was sexy as hell. “Rick left her. She wanted me
to come back to New York and help her run my old club.”
She didn’t say anything at first, her mind processing what I’d just
told her.
“Do you want that?” she asked quietly.
“Fuck no, Alex!” I exclaimed, almost swerving off the road. “You
are what I want. You are my future, my life.”
“Are you sure?” Her voice was soft and she swiped a tear from
her cheek.
“Mine, yes, I’m sure. Even if it wasn’t for you, there’s no way I’d
go back to that crazy hose beast anyway. I’m quite happy with my
life here, she can fuck off.”
We stopped at a red light a few blocks from our house. I grabbed
her hand and looked at her, my heart breaking when I saw her tear-
filled eyes. “Alex, when we get home, I’ll show you what you mean
to me. Now you know why I was so intent on getting home. I need
you tonight.”
She nodded and squeezed my hand. “I need you too.”
“Good.” The light turned green and I turned my attention back to
the road. “Tonight I need the play room, Mine.”
When we bought our house, we set up a BDSM playroom down
in the basement. It had a St. Andrews cross, a spanking horse, and
a table. My various other toys were down there - paddles, clamps,
whips. We didn’t really use it too often. While we enjoyed it, the
emotional toll it had on us usually took a day or two to recover from
and we didn’t have the time with our busy lives.
She gasped and grabbed the door handle.
“Can you handle that tonight, girl?” I asked, pulling into our
driveway.
She nodded firmly and looked over at me as I turned off the car.
“Yes, Master,” she replied, almost a whisper.
We got out of the car, but before we went into the house, I
grabbed her face and kissed her softly. She whimpered slightly into
my mouth as my tongue danced with hers, pressing into me. She
needed me tonight as much as I needed her.
“Take the key and go down to the playroom. Undress and wait
for me. You know what to do, Mine,” I instructed her when our kiss
ended.
We went inside and I headed for our bathroom while she did as
I’d told her. I splashed some cold water on my face and looked at
myself in the mirror while I unbuttoned my shirt and slipped it off. I
kicked off my shoes and pulled off my socks.
Tonight was about showing Alex she was mine, that I loved her
and wouldn’t ever leave her. I was going to get lost in her - her
whimpers, her moans, and the way she cried out my name in the
throes of passion.
I left our room and stopped in the kitchen for a couple of bottles
of water. We were going to need them tonight. I walked down the
stairs slowly, making each step deliberate. The steps creaked and
she would know I was coming. I imagined her waiting for me,
naked, her heart beating fast in anticipation. My cock was rock hard
in my jeans.
That was one of the best ways to tease Alex - making her wait
for what was going to happen next. She had no patience and I loved
to make her a quivering mess of nerves while she was waiting for
me to touch her.
I got to the bottom of the stairs and walked over to the corner of
the basement where the playroom was. I took a deep breath before
going in. When I opened the door, there she was, just as I’d told her
to be. She was naked, her jeans, shirt, and underwear folded neatly
on the chair by door. Upstairs in our bedroom she had a habit of
throwing her clothes haphazardly all over the floor, but down here
she was meticulous.
She was waiting for me, kneeling near the door, her legs spread
slightly. The smell of her arousal already filled the room. Her head
was down and her arms were turned up, resting on her thighs. She’d
switched out her every day collar for her play collar. Her nipples
were tight either from the cool air of the basement or excitement. I
was betting it was the latter. She had gorgeous nipples. She kept
talking about getting them pierced. Fuck that would be sexy. I’d
have to take her soon. Maybe I could even do that here. I made a
mental note to check into that.
“Good girl, Mine,” I said quietly, setting the bottles of water on
the nearby table. I walked around her slowly, admiring her body as
she knelt before me. She had a small tattoo of some Chinese symbol
on the right side of her lower back. She just laughed when I would
ask her about it, telling me it was something foolish she got when
she was eighteen. I wanted her to get a tattoo that symbolized us,
something I could also get, but we had yet to agree on something.
Ironic she wouldn’t fight with me about getting a tattoo but didn’t
want to get married.
Her dishwater blonde hair was left down around her face, falling
in soft waves just below her shoulders. Unless I told her otherwise,
the rule was to keep her hair down when we played. I loved the way
she whimpered when I would pull it. My favorite was to fuck her
doggy style and reach up to grab it, pulling her head back. A good
hair tug turned her on.
I stopped in front of her, my hips in line with her face. If was
going to play with her like I intended, I needed to take the edge off
some. What better way than for her to suck me off?
I reached down and undid the button on my jeans slowly. Her
head was still down, but there was no way she could mistake the
sound of my pants being undone. Her chest was moving quickly with
her shallowed breath, waiting for my next move or instruction.
I grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her head back so she
was looking up at me with her bright blue eyes. “Pull down my pants
and suck me,” I instructed.
“Yes, Master,” she nodded and got up on her knees, pulling my
pants past my hips and down my legs. She looked at my cock with
determination before encircling the base with her hand and leaning
forward. She began to lick me, her tongue warm and wet on my hot
flesh.
“Put it in your mouth and suck it,” I growled. I had no patience
for games tonight. I needed to come in her mouth so I could tie her
up and play with her.
She put the head of my shaft in her mouth and sucked gently,
her other hand coming up to tease my balls, squeezing them. She
slid my cock into her mouth further and further and until I hit the
back of her throat. I groaned harshly, my head falling back. Shit her
mouth felt so good.
My need overtook me and fisting her hair in my hand, I held her
in place as I began to fuck her mouth. I moved slowly at first,
looking down and watching my cock move in and out of that pretty
little mouth. My thrusts got faster, my cock almost gagging her. Her
eyes were watering and saliva was dripping down her chin as I used
her mouth for my pleasure.
The pressure began to build in my balls and I wasn’t going to last
much longer. I pulled her hair tighter and she whimpered around my
cock. I moved her head faster, holding her still as I shot my load
down her throat with a ragged groan. She sucked me hard, getting
every last drop of cum from me while I shuddered with pleasure.
I shivered one more time before pulling her off of my cock. She
stood up and I kissed her, my lips moving roughly over hers as I
tasted my saltiness on her. “Good girl,” I murmured, my hand
moving down to cup her breast. I moved the pad of my thumb over
her taut nipple. She closed her eyes and gasped. “Mine, I’m far from
done with you tonight. It’s going to be a long night. Before I’m done
with you, you’ll be begging me to leave you alone.”
She shook her head. “Never.”
I chuckled low in my throat. “We’ll see.” I looked around the
playroom. Where to start…My eyes settled on the St. Andrews cross.
“Go over to the cross,” I commanded, gripping her upper arm
and leading her toward the cross. “We haven’t used this awhile.
Hopefully you still love it as much as you used to,” I said with a small
smile on my face. Her eyes were wide and if I didn’t know her
better, I would swear she was a little bit scared. My heart started
beating faster. I was going to use Alex tonight like I hadn’t in a long
time.
8
ALEXANDRA
I walked over to the cross; scared my shaking legs wouldn’t

carry me over to the cross before giving way. While I’d always
enjoyed our time in the playroom, it’d been months since we
were down here, and I forgot what an adrenaline rush it was and
how much it turned me on.
It took me to a whole other place when we came down here. In
the playroom, I was Paul’s sub and he was my Master. Nothing else
mattered. I placed all of my trust in him completely. In every day
life, I was spunky but here, he had total control over me.
It was such a trip to give myself to a person like that. I’d played
with plenty of Doms in my day before I met Paul, but I never gave
myself to them like I do Paul. He had my heart, body, and soul. It
scared me to death but he made me feel safe, protected, and loved.
“Face the cross,” he instructed, his voice husky with desire. “I
want to look at that ass tonight.”
I shuddered and my pussy wept at his words. I loved the things
he did to my ass. It usually started with a spanking and ended with
this cock buried deep in my tight hole; I couldn’t wait.
I leaned against the cross, spreading my arms and legs. He came
over to me and fastened the cuffs on each of my wrists, then my
ankles. He’d left his jeans on and the fabric was rough as they
brushed against my soft flesh. I was trembling in anticipation of
what was to come.
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Title: L'apparition : roman
Author: Lucie Delarue-Mardrus
Release date: September 15, 2023 [eBook #71658]
Language: French
Original publication: Paris: Ferenczi, 1921
Credits: Laurent Vogel, Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed

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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK

L'APPARITION : ROMAN ***
TABLE DES CHAPITRES
L’Apparition
Tous droits de traduction et reproduction réservés pour tous pays.
Copiright by J. Ferenczi, 1921.
LUCIE DELARUE-MARDRUS
L’Apparition
ROMAN
PARIS
J. FERENCZI, EDITEUR
9, RUE ANTOINE-CHANTIN (XIVᵉ)
L’APPARITION
I
LA RENCONTRE DANS LE PARC
Laurent Carmin entr’ouvrit la porte de la salle à manger et vit sa mère en

discussion avec un de ses fermiers.
Maître Casimir voulait des réparations locatives. Mᵐᵉ Carmin répondait
qu’il n’y avait pas urgence. Laurent referma la porte.
De telles démarches se renouvelaient, au château, de la part des
herbagers; mais ils repartaient presque toujours sans obtenir satisfaction, car
Mᵐᵉ Carmin était Normande comme eux, et bien plus forte qu’eux.
On l’admire pour cela dans le pays, et aussi pour ses biens, qui sont
nombreux, espacés les uns des autres, des grands et des petits, fermes et
manoirs, pressoirs, herbages et bois-taillis.
—A qui cela appartient-il?
Réponse presque toujours la même:
—Est à Mâme Carmin.
Il y a de ces marquises de Carabas en Normandie, car les traditions de
l’ancien temps n’y ont guère souffert du renversement des rois.
Le château, ancien et restauré, noble et charmant, s’entourait d’un parc
mal entretenu par économie. L’église du village, située presque dans ce
parc, avait l’air d’une dépendance. Il était, au milieu de la grande pelouse,
une pièce d’eau sur laquelle naviguaient deux cygnes. Un saule pleureur se
mirait.
Allées profondes, fourrés épais, clairières, une étendue qui semblait
n’avoir de limites que les horizons bleus et mauves, venait s’achever au
pied du perron, quatre marches et leur belle rampe de pierre. Et tout cela,
qui écrasait l’humble village, c’était bien la seigneurie d’autrefois,
orgueilleuse, isolée au milieu de champs à l’infini, très loin des villes.
Au-dedans, un meuble disparate faisait se côtoyer la camelote moderne
avec de précieuses choses. Le grand salon montrait des housses, un lustre
de cristal, une pendule Restauration sous globe, des stores de soie
bouillonnés, quelques portraits de famille. Le feu de bois de l’immense
cheminée y répandait un charme en hiver; la lumière verte des arbres y
jetait, l’été, sa mélancolie campagnarde.
En bas, il y avait encore, trop grande, claire, la cuisine et sa dinanderie
du vieux temps, la salle à manger brune et sombre, tapissée de verdures
admirables, la salle d’étude avec son tableau noir, la salle de billard toujours
fermée, un petit salon et ses fauteuils de tapisserie criarde, le vestibule et les
couloirs à vitraux polychromes, sans compter la seconde cuisine, la
buanderie, l’office et la lingerie. En haut, les chambres sentaient la cretonne
et le pitchpin; mais certaines avaient mobilier d’acajou, ciels de lit et
rideaux à fleurs, qui furent le décor des grand’mères.
Mᵐᵉ Carmin de Bonnevie, méticuleusement, continuait là-dedans
l’existence sans histoire des siens. Etre veuve de bonne heure, pour une
femme comme elle, c’est se faire, à trente ans, dévote, comme sous Louis
XIV, ce qui veut dire être habillée de noir et vouée à la piété, choses qui
n’empêchent en rien de veiller âprement sur l’argent.
Nerveuse et sèche, ses cheveux noirs, lisses, chignon sans grâce, son
teint jaune de vieille fille, ses yeux bruns, assez beaux, chargés d’austérité,
rien, ni ses habitudes d’ordre et d’épargne, ni son habillement, ni le genre
de petits chapeaux étriqués, monopole de la province, qu’elle perchait sur sa
tête pour aller à la messe, rien en elle n’indiquait qu’elle eût une passion
dans la vie.
Elle en avait une, cependant. C’est la seule qu’on juge légitime chez les
femmes. Elle a pourtant la violence et toute l’animalité des autres. Mᵐᵉ de
Bonnevie aimait son fils, secrètement, on peut dire, ne voulant rien montrer
à ce garçon, ni aux autres, de sa faiblesse cachée. Etant chef de famille
depuis plus de cinq ans, elle tâchait de l’élever dignement, afin d’en faire un
homme selon son goût, un vrai successeur des hobereaux qui l’avaient
engendré, un vrai Carmin de Bonnevie, gentilhomme-fermier qui soigne ses
terres, accomplit ses devoirs religieux, chasse au fusil, joue au billard, fonde
une famille de deux enfants au plus, et meurt, après une existence si bien
remplie, convenablement, comme il a vécu.
Laurent acheva de refermer tout doucement la porte qu’il avait

entr’ouverte. Il avait vu ce qu’il voulait voir.
C’était un garçon de douze ans à peu près, droit sur ses reins, bien fait,
tourbillonnant. Ses joues rondes, son nez parfaitement enfantin, ses cheveux
noirs, paquet de boucles sur le front, lui conservaient, à cet âge, sa
physionomie de petit bébé tout brun; et rien n’était puéril comme sa voix
trop haute, cette voix qui chantait le dimanche à l’église, angéliquement.
Mais le charmant enfant de chœur, parmi ces traits encore indécis, possédait
le regard le plus audacieux, une paire d’eux gris sombre, enfoncés et larges,
étincelants et rapprochés; sa bouche épaisse, d’un rouge violent, accusait
encore l’énergie formidable de son petit menton; et, cachée sous les
boucles, la forme bien particulière de son front montrait deux bosses
arrondies, vraies petites cornes de faune, prêtes à percer la peau tendue et
lisse.
Depuis sa naissance, presque, la maman luttait contre lui.
Il avait commencé par enfoncer ses quatre dents, à dix mois, dans le sein
de sa nourrice, au point que cette femme n’avait plus voulu de lui. Dès ses
premiers pas, ses caprices, destructions, cris, trépignements, coups à ceux
qui le portaient, s’étaient multipliés jusqu’à remplir tout le grand château de
sa petite présence atroce. De sept à dix ans, se roulant par terre au moindre
mot, crachant à la figure des gens ou leur jetant les objets à la tête, mordant
comme un petit fauve, injuriant et taquinant tout le monde, ses férocités
avaient bouleversé la famille et la domesticité. Et maintenant qu’il sortait de
la première enfance, on ne savait pas trop où s’exerçaient ses ravages,
puisqu’il disparaissait dans le parc à la moindre occasion, pour le
soulagement général, du reste.
Malgré tout cela, pourtant, on l’aimait. Il était si sain et si beau! Son rire
était si frais! Cette enfance turbulente était la vie même du grand château
mélancolique.
Cependant, offrant à Dieu la peine inouïe qu’elle se donnait pour élever
ce mauvais sujet, la mère, malgré tout son orgueil d’avoir un fils, regrettait
parfois, sans oser se l’avouer à elle-même, qu’il ne fût pas plutôt une fille.
Mais la mauvaise foi maternelle reprenait vite la parole:
—Il est trop bien portant, c’est tout. Il deviendra plus traitable avec
l’âge... Tous les garçons, c’est connu, sont difficiles à élever... Son père
avait mauvaise tête aussi, mais bon cœur.
Il courait, son canif au poing. Son canif était le seul instrument d’étude
qu’il aimât. L’ouvrir et le fermer le distrayait quand, le mardi et le samedi,
l’instituteur de l’école venait lui donner sa leçon, ou bien pendant qu’au
presbytère M. le curé, seul à seul, chaque mardi, l’interrogeait sur le
catéchisme et le latin.
Ce canif, il l’avait détourné de ses destinées ennuyeuses pour en faire un
joujou passionnant. Tailler des crayons, quelle bêtise! Mais fabriquer des
arcs et des flèches dans le sous-bois, poignarder les pêches et les poires des
espaliers quand François a le dos tourné, couper en quatre les vers de terre,
amputer les grenouilles, et, lorsqu’il faut rester à la maison, taillader
clandestinement le bord des meubles du salon, lancer la lame dans la
planche à repasser, pour l’épouvante de Maria quand elle est à la lingerie,
ou bien hacher furieusement les beaux légumes de Clémentine à ses
fourneaux, voilà l’emploi vrai d’un canif...
Son néfaste jouet dans la main, il bondit de toute son âme, ivre de cette
récréation illicite qu’il vient de s’octroyer.
—Quand maman va revenir à la salle d’études...
Il rit. Il rit d’être dehors pendant qu’il fait si beau, rit d’avoir, avant de
les quitter, donné des coups de pied dans ses livres et ses cahiers jetés par
terre, rit du bon tour qu’il joue à tout le monde en se sauvant dans le parc,
alors qu’on le croit à son pupitre, apprenant ses déclinaisons.
En passant comme le vent devant la plate-bande inculte où le mois de
juin triomphe:
—Rosa la rose!... crie-t-il à pleins poumons.
Sa voix aiguë a déchiré l’air, cri d’hirondelle. Le voilà déjà loin. Ses
jambes nues de petit garçon musclé l’emportent, tout son corps dessine des
lignes dansantes sous le jersey du costume marin qu’il porte.
Le voilà dans la pépinière où sont rassemblées les essences rares.
Brusque, il s’arrête, obéissant à son désir soudain. Vite, ouvrons le cher
canif. D’un seul coup, la lame, vigoureusement maniée, s’enfonce dans
l’écorce tendre du premier petit arbre. Il l’arrache et recommence.
—Tiens!... Voilà pour toi!... Tiens!... Voilà encore pour toi!
Une fureur joyeuse l’anime. Il voudrait que l’arbre se défendît. Il
voudrait se battre.
—C’est toi, Laurent?... Qu’est-ce que tu fais là?
Il s’est retourné. L’oncle Jacques est là, qui le regarde.
L’oncle Jacques est le frère de maman. Il s’appelle comme elle: Carmin
de Bonnevie. Car papa et maman étaient cousins. L’oncle habite depuis
toujours un petit pavillon dans le parc. Laurent sait comme on le considère
à la maison. Il est célibataire et riche. Parrain et tuteur de Laurent, dont il a
choisi le nom sans qu’on devine pourquoi (puisque les aînés de Bonnevie se
sont toujours appelés Jean), il est aussi l’oncle à l’héritage. Débile, avec sa
figure fripée et fade, ses yeux myopes, ses cheveux grisonnants, c’est un
original inoffensif qui vit tout seul dans son pavillon, faisant lui-même son
ménage par peur qu’on ne dérange ses papiers, souffrant à peine que la fille
de cuisine lui prépare ses maigres repas. On ne le voit guère au château que
le dimanche, jour où maman l’invite à déjeuner ou à dîner.
Il a des idées à lui. Il porte toujours dans sa poche une barbe de plume
dont il se chatouille le dedans du nez, au moins trois fois par jour, pour se
faire éternuer, parce que cela évite les rhumatismes. Il fait un peu
d’aquarelle et de modelage. Mais sa vraie marotte, ce sont les livres, parmi
lesquels il vit, c’est l’on ne sait quels essais historiques qu’il écrit. Il croit
avoir, au cours de ses recherches, retrouvé par hasard les traces de la
famille, dont l’origine remonterait à la fin du XIVᵉ siècle. Il est en
correspondance avec des savants, des bibliophiles, des libraires. Et l’argent
qu’il dépense pour ses documents est une des exaspérations de sa sœur.
Grand, voûté, crasseux, mal habillé, l’air d’un pauvre, l’oncle Jacques
considérait son neveu.
—Qu’est-ce que tu fais là?...
Il avait, comme eux tous, un rien d’accent normand, cette manière très
atténuée que, chez nous, les gens distingués ont de chanter comme les
paysans, ce qui, du reste, n’est pas sans charme.
Le petit Laurent releva son menton volontaire. Ses yeux pleins d’éclats
regardèrent de bas en haut le grand type sans méchanceté qui ne le
gronderait pas.
—Ben, tu vois bien, répondit-il, je massacre les arbres...
Un rêve couva dans les yeux doux de l’oncle. Depuis longtemps, il
soupirait aussi, lui, comme sa sœur, au sujet de l’enfant. Ce diable ne
ressemblait en rien au neveu qu’il eût souhaité, studieux et sage disciple
auquel il eût inculqué l’amour de l’histoire, qu’il eût initié lentement à ses
recherches sur l’origine de leur maison.
—Ce n’est pas beau d’abîmer les arbres... prononça-t-il. Et puis, qu’est-
ce que tu fais à cette heure-ci dehors? Tu devrais être à ta salle d’études.
Une fois de plus, il soupira:
—Si tu voulais, Laurent, je t’apprendrais, moi... Et sans t’ennuyer, tu
sais?
Une petite émotion lui fit avancer sa main, gentiment, comme pour
mieux persuader par quelque caresse.
Le gamin, impassible, laissa la main s’avancer. Puis, appliquant dessus
une fort grande claque, il répondit par le mot le plus grossier du monde. Et,
sans reculer, effronté, provocant, il continua de regarder son oncle.
L’autre, remettant sans rien dire sa pauvre main dans sa poche, attentif,
dévisagea le petit. Celui-ci, les yeux égayés par une ironie toute normande,
prit exprès le plein accent du pays pour demander, de sa petite voix trop
haute:
—Est-y qu’ t’ aurais point entendu?
Et, de toutes ses forces, faisant un pas en avant, le menton haut, il cria de
nouveau l’insulte.
Là-dessus, un craquement de branches. Et l’on vit Mᵐᵉ Carmin de
Bonnevie, nerveuse et noire, qui venait à grands pas colères.
—Laurent!... Laurent!...
Alors, avec un geste de petit bouc, il secoua sa tête toute frisée et brune,
exécuta de côté quelque chose comme une ruade, et, faisant un pied de nez
dans la direction de sa mère, à toutes jambes il se sauva, disparut.
L’oncle Jacques, nez à nez avec sa sœur suffoquée, murmura:
—Je te félicite, Alice! Il est bien élevé, ton fils!
A quoi, rouge et méprisante, elle répondit, elle aussi, sur un ton presque
paysan:
—Tu t’occuperais de tes dictionnaires, cela vaudrait peut-être beaucoup
mieux, tu sais?...
Puis, reprenant sa course, elle se remit, haletante, à la poursuite du petit.
II
APPRIVOISEMENT
Il avait continué de fuir, était loin, maintenant, tout au bout du parc. Par
une brèche, il se coula, sur les genoux et les mains, à travers la haute haie
épineuse, et fut sur la route.
Le village commençait là. Quatre heures. Les écoliers sortaient de
l’école.
Il y en avait quatre ou cinq avec lesquels Laurent aimait à jouer. Chaque
fois qu’il le pouvait, il allait les retrouver en cachette. On le lui défendait
expressément, ces enfants n’étant pas de son rang, et connus pour leur
mauvais esprit.
Ils étaient de ces petits Normands dits «fortes têtes», qui ramassent des
cailloux pour lapider les passants et ne rêvent par ailleurs qu’école
buissonnière et maraude.
Ce n’étaient pas des fils de paysans. Ceux-là sont plus pacifiques et plus
lents.
L’un appartient à la dame de la poste, l’autre à l’épicier, le troisième...
Laurent s’était battu longtemps avec eux avant de les dominer.
Maintenant il était leur maître, celui qui décide des jeux et des promenades.
Après saute-mouton et les quilles, la bande quittait le village et s’en
allait à travers les chemins creux, longeant les haies des fermes, en quête de
méfaits nouveaux.
Chaque saison avait ses plaisirs. En hiver, ils s’introduisaient, par des
trous, dans les granges fermées, afin de jouer à cache-cache dans les bottes
de foin, qu’ils mettaient à mal en les piétinant. Au printemps, ils
cherchaient des nids, ou bien volaient des œufs dans les poulaillers. En été,
c’était la cueillette des groseilles dans les vergers mal gardés. En automne,
ils secouaient les pommiers et bourraient leurs poches de pommes qu’ils se
partageaient ensuite, avec cris et batailles.
Laurent avait à profusion, chez lui, toutes ces bonnes choses; mais il ne
les aimait que dérobées, conquises. C’était pour lui le butin de guerre, avec
tout ce que ce mot comporte de risques et d’aventures.
Au retour de ces expéditions, sali, déchiré, les yeux sauvages, il rentrait
au château, sachant fort bien quelles punitions l’attendaient.
C’étaient toujours les mêmes, Mᵐᵉ Carmin n’ayant pas trouvé mieux.
Elle les graduait selon la gravité des cas. Il y avait la privation de dessert,
les lignes à copier, la retenue du dimanche, le dîner au pain sec, le coucher
bien avant l’heure, en plein jour. Il y avait aussi le blâme de M. le curé, la
menace du collège, et autres paroles qui le laissaient indifférent. Mais
personne, jamais, n’avait levé la main sur lui, ce qui, peut-être, eût été la
seule chose à faire.
Avec son instinct d’enfant, il se rendait parfaitement compte qu’aucune
autorité suffisante, dans cette maison sans homme, ne pouvait mater son
indiscipline. Et, sans même le savoir, il méprisait en bloc tout son monde.
... Quand Mᵐᵉ Carmin vit qu’elle ne rattraperait pas son fils, elle rentra
tout époumonnée au château, mit son chapeau, ses gants, et fut au
presbytère trouver M. le curé.
C’était son habitude dans de telles occasions.
Accoutumé, monotone, l’abbé Lost la reçut dans sa petite salle à manger.
C’était un prêtre de campagne, grand et solide, fin visage paysan, cheveux
déjà gris, esprit plein de bonhomie et non sans sagesse.
Quand il eut, avec des yeux demi-clos de confesseur, écouté les
doléances de sa châtelaine:
—Qu’est-ce que vous voulez, Madame, dit-il d’un air las... les punitions
n’agissent pas, les raisonnements encore moins. Le pauvre enfant n’est
sensible à rien et n’a peur de rien. Je vous l’ai déjà dit. Il faudrait vous en
séparer pour le mettre dans une bonne institution, loin d’ici... Ce serait
mieux à tous les points de vue. Il serait enrégimenté, surveillé...
L’émulation... Il est tout aussi apte qu’un autre, quand il veut. Vous n’avez
qu’à voir comme il a vite appris son plain-chant. Voilà! Quand ça lui plaît...
—Je ne me séparerai jamais de mon fils!... répondit froidement Mᵐᵉ
Carmin.
Onctueux, le prêtre accepta cette phrase qu’il attendait.
—Alors, Madame, ayez un précepteur... Un abbé... Je vous ai déjà dit
tout cela.
—Monsieur le curé, fit-elle avec assez de hauteur, je vous ai déjà dit
aussi qu’il ne me convenait pas d’introduire dans ma vie une personne
étrangère...
Ils avaient baissé les yeux tous deux. Mᵐᵉ Carmin était encore trop jeune,
et craignait les mauvaises langues; elle était, de plus, chacun le savait, fort
regardante et redoutait des dépenses non prévues dans ses calculs serrés.
L’abbé Lost releva la tête, cligna, ne regarda pas en face, et conclut:
—Alors, Madame?...
—Alors, Monsieur le curé?...
—C’est un enfant bien difficile... articula-t-il d’un air décourageant.
Une véhémence contenue rendit plus foncés les yeux de la nerveuse
personne.
—Ah! Monsieur le curé!... Quand on pense qu’à dix mois il mordait sa
nourrice au sang, et que j’ai dû renoncer à la garder! Il a fallu...
Il connaissait l’histoire. Patiemment, il reprit quand elle eut fini:
—Puisque vous ne pouvez pas vous en séparer, Madame, peut-être
faudra-t-il essayer... essayer d’autres moyens... Voyons! L’enfant a grand
désir de posséder une bicyclette... Peut-être qu’en la lui promettant s’il est
raisonnable...
Elle le coupa passionnément:
—Non!
Puis, essayant de se modérer:
—Une bicyclette?... Mais on ne le verrait plus jamais, alors? Il serait
tous les jours à la ville... Ce serait du propre!...
Le prêtre ouvrit les bras et haussa les sourcils, comme pour exprimer: «A
la fin, qu’est-ce que vous voulez qu’on dise à une entêtée comme vous?...»
Mais il avait des raisons, d’ordre bien ecclésiastique, pour ménager son
importante paroissienne. Il prit un rassurant air grave:
—Madame, le bon Dieu seul sait ce qu’il veut faire de votre fils. Il faut
avoir confiance. Les Confessions de saint Augustin sont là pour nous
prouver que...
Elle n’était venue que pour entendre cela. A personne d’autre qu’au
prêtre elle n’eût fait voir l’état de son cœur anxieux.
*
**
Laurent n’accompagna pas ses amis dans leurs entreprises d’aujourd’hui.
Depuis sa rencontre de tout à l’heure avec son oncle, une idée s’insinuait
lentement en lui. Jamais il ne semblait entendre les paroles qu’on lui disait,
ne les entendait pas, en réalité. Mais elles restaient comme semées dans sa
tête, et germaient un peu plus tard.
Voici, marchant d’un pas calme, le même galopin qui courait si fort. La
tête basse, il réfléchit, tout en avançant sous les arbres de l’allée. Ses grands
sourcils, froncés, donnent à son front mat, chargé de boucles noires, une
expression qui n’est pas celle d’un enfant. Ses yeux sombres, pleins d’une
âme autoritaire, regardent de côté sans rien voir.
Il cessa soudain d’hésiter et se remit à courir.
A la porte du pavillon habité par son oncle, il frappa trois grands coups,
d’un geste décidé, violent, comme tous ses gestes. Et parce que l’oncle
n’ouvrait pas assez vite, il se mit à trépigner. Enfin, des pas se firent
entendre.
—Qui est là?... demanda la voix étonnée de l’oncle.
—C’est moi, Laurent. Ouvre!
Le verrou, la clef, tout grinça. L’oncle Jacques apparut dans l’ombre de
son corridor.
C’était la première fois que son neveu pénétrait chez lui.
—Qu’est-ce qui t’amène?... fit-il avec une immense surprise.
Laurent lui planta dans ses yeux myopes un regard catégorique. Mais il
ne sut dire que ce mot d’enfant:
—Rien...
L’autre comprit-il qu’il y avait, dans ce mot, beaucoup de choses?
—Entre!... murmura-t-il avec une émotion singulière.
Et quand le petit fut dans le cabinet de travail, au milieu des paperasses
qui envahissaient tout parmi la plus épaisse poussière, devant la table de
travail surchargée de livres, de brouillons, de gravures, qu’éclairait la
fenêtre à petits carreaux à travers laquelle on voyait fuir les perspectives du
parc, il fit un mouvement effaré, comme s’il allait se sauver.
Il n’y eut aucune explication. L’oncle s’assit à sa table. Avec un petit
tremblement dans la voix:
—Puisque tu es venu me voir... Tu sais ce que j’étudie là?
—Non!
—Eh bien! C’est l’histoire de notre famille.
Il se pencha, chercha fiévreusement, ses yeux myopes tout près des
papiers.
Laurent piétinait. Il avait quelque chose à dire, qui voulait sortir, qui ne
pouvait pas attendre. Mais il savait que le moment n’était pas encore
propice. Et il souffrait, de tout son être impatient, péremptoire.
—Je suis presque sûr, maintenant, continuait Jacques de Bonnevie,
presque sûr d’avoir retrouvé les traces de notre premier ancêtre. Il y a de ces
coïncidences qui ne peuvent pas être du hasard...
C’était sa passion à lui. Toute sa personne frémissait. Pour la première
fois, quelqu’un de la famille venait à lui, consentait à l’écouter. Et c’était
justement le plus intéressant, Laurent, l’enfant, celui qui pouvait devenir le
disciple. Depuis vingt ans, les siens le considéraient comme un maniaque
ennuyeux dont on n’entend même plus les propos.
—Ecoute... Je vais te retrouver le livre, où, pour la première fois, il y a
quinze ans, j’ai découvert, je crois, l’origine de notre nom... Tu vas juger
toi-même... C’est presque une certitude... C’est... oui!... oui!... C’est une
certitude! J’ai d’autres documents, tu vas voir... Qu’est-ce que tu fais?...
Ah! oui!... les images!... Tu regardes mes gravures?... On vient de me les
envoyer. Mais ce n’est pas intéressant. Il y en a une que je cherche...
Il secoua la tête d’un air agacé.
—Ils ont bêtes, tous ces libraires! Il va falloir, un de ce jours, que je
fasse le voyage... que j’aille voir moi-même les musées... Il n’y a pas
moyen!...
Brusquement, il se tourna tout entier vers l’enfant. Et, comme si c’eût été
le préambule de toute une conférence:
—C’est dommage que tu ne saches pas l’italien. Mais j’ai mes
traductions.
Laurent fit un pas brutal en avant. Mais l’oncle ne s’en aperçut pas.
—Et, d’abord, poursuivit-il, est-ce que, là-bas, ils t’ont déjà fait faire de
l’histoire universelle?
Laurent secoua rageusement la tête.
—Non!
—C’est dommage! Alors, on ne t’a jamais parlé des Sforza, de Ludovic
le More, des Noirs et des Blancs, des Guelfes et des Gibelins, des Grandes
Compagnies, des condottieri?
La tête remuait toujours, de plus en plus négative et rageuse.
—A ton âge?.... Qu’est-ce qu’ils t’apprennent donc, chez toi?
L’enfant haussa les épaules. Et, comme soulagé d’exhaler son mépris, de
quelque façon que ce fût:
—Ils m’apprennent l’Histoire Sainte et le catéchisme!
Un rire de l’oncle:
—Imbéciles!
Il se leva, prit dans ses mains la tête toute frisée qui résistait d’instinct,
ne parvenait pas à se laisser faire.
—Tu aimerais connaître notre histoire?
Un essai de complaisance passa sur le visage rebiffé du petit.
—Oui, oncle.
D’enthousiasme, le vieux garçon, pour se frotter les mains, lâcha la tête
qu’il tenait.
—Laurent, tu sais comment nous nous appelons, en réalité?
Ses yeux se fermèrent. Il y avait quinze ans qu’il le ressassait à des
moqueurs qui ne l’écoutaient pas.
—Ecoute bien! Notre premier ancêtre était moine au couvent des
Carmes, en Italie. C’était à une époque que je t’expliquerai plus tard. Un
beau jour, il sort de son couvent, décidé, comme on dit maintenant, à vivre
sa vie. Quelle vie!... Je te raconterai. Tu ne saisis pas encore?... Un surnom
lui reste: Carmine. Maintenant, voici autre chose. Il y a, dans l’histoire des
Grandes Compagnies, un fameux Buonavita, ainsi nommé par ironie...
Passons! Eh bien!... Moi je suis à peu près sûr, à présent, que Carmine et
Buonavita ne sont qu’un seul et même personnage. Comprends-tu,
maintenant? Comprends-tu?... Carmine Buonavita, c’est notre nom: Carmin
de Bonnevie!
Se rasseyant, le front en sueur, il attira l’enfant contre lui.
—Qu’est-ce que tu dis de ça?... C’est assez clair! Coïncidence?...
Coïncidence?... Jamais!... Les deux noms, l’italien et le français, sont bien
identiques, voyons!
Une joie subite l’agita.
—Mon petit Laurent! Tu es venu! Tu es venu enfin! Quel bonheur que tu
m’aies compris!
Pour l’embrasser, il se souleva sur son fauteuil.
—Ecoute, maintenant! Je vais te lire...
Mais Laurent n’en pouvait plus. Malgré lui, ce qu’il avait décidé de dire
et qui l’avait amené là, dans ce pavillon, éclata comme une fanfare. Il mit
un bras autour du cou de son oncle, s’assit sur ses genoux, et, de sa plus
haute voix d’enfant de chœur:
—Oncle! Oncle!... Je veux une bicyclette, et c’est toi qui vas me
l’acheter!
La stupeur fit que Jacques de Bonnevie demeura d’abord absolument
muet. Doucement, ses mains avaient repoussé l’enfant. Le cœur serré, le
front bas, il regardait fixement par terre. Cette ridicule bicyclette, tombée
dans son rêve, l’anéantissait d’un seul coup.
Il put enfin relever la tête. Avec une indicible mélancolie, il murmura:
—Une bicyclette?...
C’était donc pour cela qu’il était venu le voir, le petit? Et de tout ce
qu’on venait de lui dire, il n’avait rien retenu, comme les autres...
—Ben oui, une bicyclette!... s’emporta Laurent. Maman ne veut pas me
la donner, et moi je la veux!
Il frappait du pied. Ses yeux flamboyaient.
Un sourire passa sur la figure triste de l’oncle.
—Et tu comptes sur moi pour ça? Je me ferais bien arranger par ta
mère!...
Son sourire finit en rire. Il s’était levé comme pour congédier le jeune
importun. Ce fut avec la plus amère ironie et le plus inutile orgueil qu’il
acheva, la tête haute:
—Et puis, c’est laid, une bicyclette! Un Carmine Buonavita ne monte
pas à bicyclette: il monte à cheval!
Laurent avait reculé comme un petit animal attaqué.
—Tu es aussi bête que les autres!... cria-t-il. Plus bête!... Je te déteste,
entends-tu, vieux idiot!...
Il avait fait un bond.
—Tiens, tes livres!... Tiens, tes papiers!... Tiens, tes gravures!...
Avec un cri déchirant, Jacques de Bonnevie se jeta sur son neveu.
Eparpillées sur le plancher, piétinées, les paperasses volaient. L’encrier
renversé glissait un serpent noir sur la table, menaçant les précieuses pages.
Ce fut une courte lutte. Le malheureux historien, dans le poing crispé du
petit, parvint à reprendre le papier qu’il chiffonnait férocement. Quelques
coups s’échangèrent. Puis, finalement maîtrisé, l’enfant, pris aux poignets,
repassa tout en se débattant la porte du cabinet de travail, celle du couloir,
celle, enfin, du pavillon, laquelle, avec bruit, se referma dans son petit dos
en jersey bleu.
III
LA BELLE DÉCOUVERTE
Par les allées crépusculaires, il revenait enfin au château. L’heure du

repas le ramenait animalement chez lui. C’était la seule discipline qu’il
connût et acceptât.
Il avait passé le reste de son après-midi, depuis six heures, à donner des
coups de pied dans la porte du pavillon de son oncle, puis à lancer des
pierres dans ses vitres. Mais l’oncle ayant fini par fermer les volets,
l’enfant, à la longue, s’était lassé.
Sa crise de colère, épuisée, le laissait encore bouillonnant. Les joues
moites, les yeux animés, il avait rôdé tout autour du pavillon, cherchant des
vengeances.
Maintenant qu’il rentrait, il savait que l’heure était venue de
l’immanquable punition. Mais il ne la redoutait pas beaucoup. Cela faisait
partie du rythme de sa vie. Ses poignets, tordus par les doigts de l’oncle, lui
faisaient encore mal. Il en éprouvait comme une satisfaction. Il s’était battu.
Il était bien.
Il ne se pressait pas. Sa pensée l’occupait, tandis qu’il avançait à travers
les arbres sombres.
Sous ses pieds, le sol était doux et mou, velouté de mousse qu’il ne
pouvait plus distinguer, dans la grande nuit qui tombait des branches
entrecroisées.
Une fraîcheur descendait avec l’heure. L’enfant passait parfois par une
zone de parfums venus de quelque chèvrefeuille invisible, ou bien de
certaines herbes, encore chaudes du soleil de la journée. Et, tout au bout des
avenues, le couchant et les ramures, étroitement mêlés, composaient un
long vitrail bleu, rouge et jaune.
Le grand apaisement du soir calmait peu à peu la petite âme insurgée.
Cependant aucune douceur n’y pénétrait. Laurent, simplement,
réfléchissait; et ses réflexions restaient combatives, ardentes.
—Ma bicyclette, je la veux! Ils me la donneront... Ou bien...

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NAUGHTY GIRL TWO

About the Author

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I walked over to my best friend and business partner, Max, who

“I think the party was a huge success, don’t you?” I asked

W e laid in bed later , our limbs tangled together and wrapped in a

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I walked over to the cross; scared my shaking legs wouldn’t

Title: L'apparition : roman

Author: Lucie Delarue-Mardrus

Release date: September 15, 2023 [eBook #71658]

Original publication: Paris: Ferenczi, 1921

Credits: Laurent Vogel, Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK

LA RENCONTRE DANS LE PARC

Laurent Carmin entr’ouvrit la porte de la salle à manger et vit sa mère en

Laurent acheva de refermer tout doucement la porte qu’il avait

Par les allées crépusculaires, il revenait enfin au château. L’heure du

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