Forbidden Innocence: Tales of the Forbidden (6 page)

“Yes sir, congratulations.” The woman smiled. “A lovely lady. So 46

dainty.”

“And in great need of new everything,” Blaine went on. “I’m afraid she doesn’t have a thing so she needs pretty much everything.”

“Well I can certainly help here with anything she needs.” The woman kept on smiling and Shyla got a nagging feeling that the woman was all fake.

“Good, then let’s see.” Blaine tapped his finger, looking down at Shyla. “Couple outfits for sure, until the girls come around. Panties, bras, something to sleep in, shoes, the works. And please work fast. My phone is buzzing like hell in my pocket.”

“No problem. Honey, come with me.” She reached for Shyla.

Shyla really didn’t want to go with her. A nod from Blaine and she followed her to the other side of the shop.

Her measurements were taken, articles of clothing were taken off the rack, clothes piled up and soon Shyla was in a dressing room, trying it all on. If two hours was considered fast, then they all had a big problem.

She left with three pair of jeans, silk tops, bras, low riding hip hugging panties, no thongs thank you very much. Heels that she couldn’t walk in very well, sneakers, socks, tank tops, baby doll nighties and one silk robe. Also included were a few chemises she could wear under the silk tops along with some way too sexy lingerie that had her blushing.

Henning took everything from them as they got back into the limo.

Exhausted she slumped back in the seat and Blaine smiled at her.

“Tired?”

She nodded. “How can anyone enjoy doing that?”

“Shopping?” Again she nodded and he chuckled. “Ask Kera and Samara. They go shopping all the time and love it. Guess it’s a damn good thing Devon is doing well with his horses or she’d have him broke as hell.”

“You mean real horses?” That had her sitting up in her seat. She’d seen many pictures of horses but had never actually seen one. “I’d love to see one. I’ve only seen them in pictures and once in one of those sex movies they made us watch.”

“Well you’re in luck then. I let Devon use the stables and they are full of them. Maybe he’ll even put you up on one.”

“Really?” She couldn’t keep the excitement out of her voice or her body. “Oh I’d love that.”

The limo turned and headed out of town. Shyla watched everything, taking in the colour of the changed leaves on the trees, and the patches of grass, which also changed in colour. Winter was coming, but for her this 47

year, the deadness she always felt, might not be there this time. She felt free, freer than she’d ever felt before.

Blaine rolled the window down and she stuck her head out, getting her first real look at the house of her many dreams. The house that for years she would stare at, wondered about, and just wished she could life in. Now it was becoming a reality for her.

A long, cobblestone drive way with a long row of trees took you right up to the massive house. There were marble columns, huge thick glass doorway and windows galore! Nothing in her fantasies about this place even came close to what she saw before her.

In the centre of the drive a large waterfall that had water pouring out from it, giving off a very soothing and homey feeling to the place. She saw bushes and could just about picture the roses in bloom around the fountain as it spit out the water.

A man stood on the front steps, waiting it seemed for them. The limo stopped. She heard the popping of the truck and then Blaine opened the door, stepping out first.

“Morning, sir!”

“Randal,” Blaine said.

“I’ve heard already that your trip has been a success.”

Shyla stepped out, took Blaine’s hand and stared at the man who smiled back at her. The kindness in his aging eyes had her feeling at ease.

“Shyla, this is Randal. He runs the house and knows all the ins and outs. Randal, my wife, Shyla.”

“Oh, a great pleasure, Miss!” Randal smiled big. He took hold of her hand, squeezing it. “A great pleasure. Please, come inside. Let me show you your new home and introduce you to Linda.”

Randal let her go and, with Blaine’s hand at the small of her back, she followed him inside the house.

Right off she caught sight of a small split balcony overhead. The staircase fanned out to the left and right, coming down in an oval shape with marble steps. In the centre of the large space a sitting area had been set up.

“We have eighty-three bedrooms,” Blaine told her. “To the left here you’ll find the kitchen in back and dining room off the side. On the right here is our living space complete with your television set and surround sound system. You can also head out back through that room where the outdoor pool and pool house is. You’ll also be able to see the stables and a maze my mother had put in the first year she lived here.”

48

“We also have a full basement,” Randal added, going up the

staircase, looking down at her with a smile. “Private gym and another pool for the days you can’t go outside. There is also a hot tub and steam room below.”

Up the second stairs Blaine pointed out the extra bedrooms right before taking her hand and leading her down to the far end hallway, up some steps and into a bedroom that took her breath away.

White leather furniture facing a massive fireplace. White fur rugs over hardwood floor so shiny she was almost afraid to walk across it.

The bed gave her the chills.

What caught her eye in the room though was the picture frame on one of the nightstands. It was the photo of her mother and it was framed.

It was Shyla, at six, a big smile on her face, hugging her mother. It almost brought tears to her eyes.

“I hope you don’t mind me having it framed,” Randal stated. “I didn’t want it to get more ruined then it was starting to.”

“No,” she whispered, shaking her head, lowering down to the bed as she picked the frame up. “I don’t mind. I kept it in a box so that no one would rip it up.”

“Ah, there you are, girl,” Randal said. “Mr. Cedric, this is Linda Harmon. I’ve put her in charge of taking care of Mrs. Cedric's things.”

“Randal, please, don’t call her that,” Blaine groaned. “Sounds so damn old.”

“Yes, sir. Forgive me. Linda, please unpack Ms. Shula’s things.”

“I can do that.” Shyla put the photo down and stood up.

“No, you can’t,” Blaine butted in before Randal could. “Piss Randal off and he’s hell to live with. Besides, I want you to look at the rest of the house and meet Sally. You need to let her know what you like and don’t like.”

The three of them walked out of the bedroom. Randal started down the stairs as Blaine took Shyla down one of the long hallways to show her the many rooms.

“Oh, sir, I almost forgot—forgive me,” Randal called out. “Ms.

Samara called to warn me that Mr. Knight and Mr. Noved will be stopping by tomorrow night. They intend to surprise you it seems and she wanted you to know.”

“I sort of expected that,” Blaine sighed. “Does Sally know?”

“She already went out for lobsters and steaks.”

“Oh, I like steak,” Shyla butted in, then blushed. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt you two.”

49

“Let Sally know she likes her steaks well-done, please.”

“Yes, sir.” Randal turned and started back down the stairs.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He smiled. “It’s nice to hear you speak up.

Do it more often.”

He showed her each and every room, then he shocked her by sliding open a thick set of double doors that led into a big ballroom. From where they stood she would never have guessed there was a ballroom in the house, even though deep down she hoped there would be one.

Once she saw everything upstairs, Blaine took her back to the master bedroom to change clothing. All the things he bought her were unpacked, some hanging up in the over large walk in closet. She didn’t know what to wear for his friends.

“What’s wrong?” Once more he came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“This feels like a dream,” she spoke low. “A dream that I’ll wake up from any moment and find myself back in that room waiting to go to those classes and eat that food again.”

“It’s no dream. You’re here to stay.”

“I don’t know how to be in your world, Blaine. How do I even dress?”

“Well, for one thing, I’m in jeans so why don’t you start with putting jeans on as well.”

“But your friends—” She could hardly get the words out. “They’ll be up class and I’m not.”

“Trust me when I say they are all down to Earth kind of people.

Dane’s grandmother is the one you will have to dress up for, and Samara will make sure you have what you need for that dinner. Wear this new top.” He took one of the new silk tops off the hanger. It had tiny pearl buttons. “I can think about undoing each one of those buttons as we have dinner.”

Her face heated up and she snatched the shirt from his hand. She also took one of the new pair of jeans that were folded in a build in shelf and walked out of the closet and into the bathroom.

The bathroom was unlike any fantasy she’d ever had. It contained A walk-through shower with bench along the wall and glass windows showing everything. In the centre of the bathroom was another bench to use to sit and dress. Off the one side was a huge bathtub in a corner with jets coming out of it from every side. The toilet had its own little room, and on the other side a vanity table.

50

Shyla sat down on the bench and slowly stripped off the outfit the Compound put her in. She kept looking around as she dressed, fearing that Blaine might come in at any moment. Guilt once more hit her over how she told him she didn’t like sex. She felt so bad that she was afraid to even try it again. He was just so big that she couldn’t believe him when he told her that it wouldn’t hurt again. Flashes of how those women on the videos screamed as a man pumped his cock into them.

Thinking about calling it a cock had her thinking she might start to panic any moment.

Shaking off the feeling, she finished dressing and when she opened the door she wasn’t at all surprised to see Blaine standing by the fireplace, waiting for her.

“Ready?” he asked. She took a deep breath and nodded. “Good, I’m starving and have a special treat for you.” He went up to her, took hold of her face and kissed her, lingering for a few minutes before pulling back. “Relax. Everything’s going to be fine, I promise.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

He rubbed her lower lip with his thumb, “I always keep the promises that I make. Never forget that.”

51

Shyla ate the meal Blaine fixed for her. As he watched her eat, he smoked his small cigar, lounging back in the large lounge chair next to his fire pit in the back yard. When Sally came back from the store she had a stack of magazine with clothes for Shyla to go through. And the girl looked at each one, each page slowly while she nibbled on the hotdog he grilled over the fire for her. So far he ate two to her one.

“See anything you like?” he asked, getting her full attention.

She looked up at him, eyes wide open. “There are so many things. I never thought a woman could wear so much.”

“Neither did I,” he said and smiled.

She cocked her head to the side and the way she looked at him made him think she was studying him. “You’ve had a lot of women then.”

Blaine blew out a cloud of smoke and sat up to put more wood chunks into the fire. “I’ve had my share I guess.”

She closed the magazine and placed it with the others. “You don’t like talking about your past, do you?”

“Not that part of my past.” Bending to the side, he opened a cooler lid, pulled out a beer and soda, handing the can to her and twisting the top of his.

“Do you think I’ll judge you?”

Laying back down, moving the cigar around as she drew her legs up to her chest, Blaine sighed. “I judge myself.”

“Why?”

“The two of us haven’t had an easy life, Shyla. Yours was spent sheltered in the Compound. Mine got the brutal fist of the world. And I’ve done things in my past I’m not too proud of.”

“Are you proud of what you’ve done now then?”

“Not yet, but I’m hoping to be one day.” He pulled the cigar out of 52

his mouth and tossed it into the fire, watching it burn as he took a drink.

“The mistress,” she said, getting him to look back at her. She also faced the fire and had a sad expression on her face.

“What about her?”

“You asked me who hurt me. It was her.”

He sort of thought it was. “Why?”

“I didn’t want to watch those movies.” She wrinkled her nose.

“Couldn’t get past the girls crying out in pain.”

“Were they really crying out in pain?”

Slowly she looked back up at him, “They made sure we saw girls that were doing it for the first time.”

“Ah,” he nodded. “So why’d she hurt you then?”

“I wouldn’t go.” She hugged herself and began to slowly rock her body. “It was to be my second class, second movie. I had nightmares that night about. After breakfast I snuck back to my room and hid. She found me. When I refused to come out, I got my first whipping. She didn’t break skin, that would leave permanent marks, but she bruised me pretty bad. So I went to the classes but closed my eyes and blocked it all out.

Did that for a few months, then she found out and gave me another whipping.” She shook her head, and a single tear slipped free. “Others got whippings for not wanting to go to the classes. I tried to stand up for this one girl. That got me into so much trouble and to add to it all, I refused to do the scrubbing of all the bathrooms. It was the one and only time I ever stood up to her, and I don’t think I walked straight for a week after that beating. After a while I kind of, I don’t know, stayed within myself and just went with the motions. I did what I was told, ate the food, attended the classes. Guess you can call it a robot thing I did. Got snapped out of it the morning my name got called for the party.”

“Well I say the hell with them all.” He tipped his beer up to her.

“They can all kiss our ass,” he finished with a smile.

Shyla also smiled and took a sip of her drink. She looked up at the sky and sighed, “It’s late.”

“Yes, it is.” He didn’t look up at the sky but at her.

Putting the beer down, Blaine moved. He crawled over to her and once she looked at him he went in for a deep kiss. Using that kiss, he lowered her down to the blanket, slanted his mouth and pushed his tongue inside.

Surprisingly enough, she kissed him back, but when his hand touched under her shirt, she tensed up. Halfway up her belly, right under her breasts, she grabbed his wrist with both hands and broke the kiss, 53

turning to the left away from him. She finished pushing his hand out from under her shirt and rolled out from under him, giving Blaine her backside.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Don’t worry about it,” he sighed. “It’ll happen when it happens.”

“And if it doesn’t?” He heard the tremor in her voice. Knew she was holding back from crying.

“It will.”

He didn’t sleep that night. Blaine stayed in the bed with her, listening and watching her sleep until he couldn’t stand it any longer. He wasn’t the kind of man to not have a willing woman in his bed, or more to the point, a woman willing, only not for the sex. That part definitely was new for him.

So around three in the morning, he left the bed, dressed in some jeans and went to his office. He did a bit of work, but mostly sat back in the leather chair, bare feet up on the desk, thin cigar between his lips and a large glass of brandy.

“You know when I heard you were married, I didn’t think when I snuck into your house that you’d be sitting in the dark brooding like this.”

Blaine looked up and there stood Darius in the doorway. “Shit happens.”

“So they say.” Darius Alistair pushed away from the doorway and went right up to the desk, picking up the bottle and taking a big drink right from it.

“I do have glasses,” Blaine stated.

Darius hissed once he finished. “Why mess with a good thing.” He put the bottle down and sat in one of the chairs across from the desk.

He was dressed in ratty jeans, shit kicker boots and a black t-shirt that stretched across his shoulders like a second skin. His dirty brown hair had grown longer during the few months he’d been gone. The dark eyes darker, and if Blaine wasn’t mistaken, Darius also looked harder in both body and in his face.

“So what brings you to my humble home?” Blaine asked, blowing out a cloud of smoke and picking up his glass.

“Berdina ordered me home for this special party she’s throwing

Makayla.” He groaned in irritation. “I told her no three times, and then she threatened to have Dane come get me. Oh and make my life hell once I did come.”

“Why she want you there so bad?”

54

Darius shrugged. “Who the hell knows? The woman is on a power trip.”

“Does she know?”

The question had Darius quickly looking uncomfortable. “Know what?”

Blaine snorted, “Don’t play that shit with me. They might not know, but I do!”

With a groan, Darius stood back up and took the bottle with him.

Blaine kept his mouth shut as one of his best friends paced around the room, drinking. For the past year, Blaine knew that Darius had a thing for Makayla Tabor. It happened the night they went in to get her out of the brothel before she was sold. Blaine saw it on his friend’s face but kept his mouth shut. It wasn’t his place to point out to Dane and the others what he saw. That was all on Darius and, instead of the man stepping up, the shit skipped town.

Sure Darius came back here and there. The realty property that his family owned made sure of it. The name Alistair happened to be on deeds to every main building in Treece, meaning that Darius inherited not only a name but the legend to go with it. A legend he hated. He was worth a fortune, and every woman in town wanted to grab him for either their self or for a daughter.

“What I don’t understand is how the hell that old bat is able to keep her out of the Compound,” Darius said, taking another long drink. “I don’t get it. No one has that kind of power.”

“Apparently she does.”

Darius snorted.

“You need to talk to Dane,” Blaine went on.

“And say what? You know how protective he is of her. He treats her like a daughter for Christ sake.”

“Darius, getting drunk and staying away like you have been isn’t going to fix shit. Trust me, I know from experience.”

Darius shook his head. “I didn’t come back here to talk about her or my problem.”

“Then why did you come back?”

“Heard you got married,” he shrugged. “Had to see it for myself,” he finished with a smile.

“Yeah, well it isn’t sweet as candy like Devon and Dane have, trust me,” he groaned, standing up and stretching.

Darius chuckled. “What fucking fairy tale have you been reading?

Sweet with Devon and Kera has yet to happen. She owns his ass. He’s 55

just too damn blind to see it.”

“So you going to the party then?” Blaine had to change the subject.

Thinking and talking about his strange marriage wasn’t something he felt like doing, especially with Darius.

“Nice change.”

Blaine gave him a smile also, one that said he was being a prick at the moment. “Thank you.”

“I don’t think so.”

“You don’t, then Dane is going to start to really question why you’re staying away so much and working so hard at it. Plus, you’ll have the bat to deal with.”

Another drink, followed by a loud groan and Darius was sitting down in the sofa next to the fireplace, “I can’t go there. I do, they’ll all see it and then I’m fucked.”

“You’re fucked if you don’t. So be fucked and go.”

“Ah, such wisdom,” Darius smarted off.

“Go home. Sleep that shit off then come back here for dinner. The gang is bombarding my ass, you might as well join in the fun.”

“I’ll pass.” Darius took another drink, finishing off the bottle and standing up. He placed it on one of the end tables. “Good luck with the new bride.”

“You can’t keep running, man,” Blaine sighed. “You’re going to have to face it sooner or later.”

“Yeah, well not this soon. I’ll let you know about the party.”

Blaine watched him walk out. He felt for Darius, he really did. No man should have to go through what that one had. But they all had battles they were going to have to fight on their own. Each one of them fought it and came back a better man for it. Devon found his one, got the peace he wanted. Dane was able to get the back bone he needed, and Blaine thought for a moment maybe he might get the home he always hungered for. What Darius needed at the moment he had no clue. Hell, he didn’t think Darius knew either.

Rubbing his forehead, Blaine sat back down at the desk, drew hard on the cigar, blew out a thick cloud of smoke and tried to relax his tense body. He opened the drawer next to him, brought out the bottle of vodka and sighed a silent „hell" as he uncapped it and took a nice burning drink.

Sitting there, drinking harder than he had in years, Blaine rubbed the hardness that seemed to get harder with each pull he took from the bottle next to him. He never got hard when he drank, but then again he’d never been told to stop either. Being refused was a new feeling for him, one 56

that he knew he didn’t like.

Before he was ready, the bottle was gone. A nice buzz came with it, but it wasn’t enough for him. Blaine got up, swayed a bit on his feet and went over to the table where more liquor waited. He looked over each bottle, found more of the hard shit and downed it like water, ignoring the burn in his throat and stomach. Now he wanted to drink away the hard on, but it only seemed to get worst the more he drank.

“Fuck it,” he slurred out loud.

Leaving his office happened to be a bit harder than it was coming in.

Blaine bounced and hit the walls, walking out into the darkness. With difficulty, he found the stairs and headed up, stumbling a couple of times and even falling down once. He swore, shook his head and tried like hell to focus on where he was going.

Yep, without a doubt of any kind, he was drunk as shit, but he also was very determined. He wanted his wife, and nothing was going to stop him tonight from having her. Come morning he’d no doubt feel the guilt over it all.

Again he shook his head, trying to clear it while he walked to his room. Opening the door, he stood there looking at his wife, sleeping peacefully. His mind went over and over how wrong what he was about to do would be. It did nothing to stop his hand from going to the snap of his jeans. They came off and he stood naked in the middle of the room.

The steps to the bed weren’t steady, not by a long shot. His one and only goal for the moment was reaching her, taking what he needed.

Come morning he’d live with the consequences.

Crawling up on the bed, yanking the covers away, Blaine had Shyla up on her knees, in the very nice doggy position before she was fully awake. He worked fast, yanking her nightgown from her shoulders, letting it fall to her waist as he tasted her skin.

“What’re you doing?” she breathed out while he cupped one breast, his lips going to her neck as he held her head up with the other hand.

“I need this,” he slurred.

“What’s wrong with you?” He heard panic in her sweet voice, and it should’ve stilled him, but didn’t. Instead, it had him going on, wanting to show her that it would all be fine.

He didn’t answer her. Instead, he moved his hand from her breasts, ripped the gown the rest of the way off and cupped her pussy. She gasped loudly and tried to pull his hand away. Blaine parted the soft folds and had two fingers into her, pumping just like he planned to pump into her. Teasing her clit with his thumb, he fucked her using his hand 57

only, getting thicker and harder behind her.

“Please,” she begged.

He blocked out her pleading and kept on kissing her throat, holding her head back against his shoulder and moving that hand faster. She got wet around him, the clit became hard, and he moved that hand even faster. He joined one more finger with the two and pressed harder against her clit.