Chapter 5 - What He Does To Me

(Lorei's POV)

"I don't even know how to explain it," I whisper into the phone, curled up on my bed with the door locked. "It's like my whole body forgets what it's supposed to do around him."

"Lorei." Priya calls in that low voice she uses when she's trying not to freak out on me. "He is blackmailing you with photos that he took of a night you don't even remember consenting to properly."

"I know." I press my palm against my eyes, willing the tears to stay put. "I know how insane this sounds. I hate him. I actually hate him, Priya, for what he's doing to me and my mom. But then he gets close, and my body just…" I don't even have the words for it. "It just stops listening to me."

"That's called trauma, or Stockholm syndrome, or some weird psychological thing. I promise you…"

"I have to go," I say, because I hear footsteps in the hall, and the last thing I need is Richard or my mom overhearing this. "I'll call you later."

I splash cold water on my face in the bathroom, hard enough that it stings, and by the time I make it downstairs my mom's already setting the table, humming, happier than I've seen her in months.

"There you are," she says, kissing my cheek. "Feeling okay? You've been quiet all week."

"Just tired," I lie, and I smile, and I hate how easy the lie comes out now, how many times I've practiced it in the mirror this past month alone.

Dinner is fine, as usual. Richard tells a story about a deal that fell through, my mom laughs at all the right places, and Elias sits across from me barely speaking, like none of what happens between us behind closed doors, actually exists. I've started to understand this is just how it works. Family in public, something else entirely once the doors shut.

After, my mom asks me to bring some papers down to Elias's study, some contractor quotes for the guest wing renovation that Richard wants his opinion on before signing. I almost make up an excuse and say no. But I don't, because refusing means questions, and questions are the one thing I can't afford right now.

It's fine, Lorei. Just drop the papers and leave. Two minutes, tops.

His study door's cracked open when I get there. I push it wider, ready to just put the folder down and go. But then… I see him.

He's on a video call, three screens lit up in front of him, sleeves rolled to his elbows, jaw tight,  his voice dropping low and clipped as he tears into whoever's on the other end of the line. "That's not what I asked for! Redo the numbers and have it on my desk by six, or find yourself explaining to the board why we lost the contract!!"

Oh no.

I don't know what it is about watching him like this, commanding, completely in control of every single person on that call, but something low in my stomach flips over. It's so hot and sudden and completely against my will. I set the folder down as quietly as I can, meaning to leave, but my feet don't move.

He hasn't even noticed me yet. He's leaning back in his chair, one hand loose around a glass of scotch, the other tapping against the desk. My whole body feels tight, my pussy clenching as I watch him, unconsciously pressing my thighs together to ease the sudden ache.

"...get it done," he says, ending the call, and the second the screen goes dark his eyes cut straight to me.

I freeze, my hand still in between my thighs, face burning so hot I probably look feverish.

"I… I was just dropping off…" I yank my hand back and grab for the door. "I'll just…"

"Don’t move," he snaps, his voice sending a jolt of electricity through me. I freeze, my hand still between my legs, as he stalks toward me, his gaze locked onto mine.

"Interesting," he growls, his eyes locked onto mine, challenging me to deny it. "Watching me work gets you this wet, Lorei?"

"No," I whisper, my face burning with embarrassment. "I wasn't…"

"You like watching me work, Lorei?" he growls, crowding me against the bookshelf, his hand wrapping around my wrist and yanking my hand away from my pussy. He brings my fingers to his nose, inhaling deeply, and I whimper at the filthy gesture. "You smell fucking delicious. I bet you taste even better."

“I said I wasn’t…”

"Liar!" he cut me off, his voice low. "You were touching yourself, getting yourself off while you watched me. Admit it."

I shake my head, my eyes darting away from his intense gaze. "I wasn't."

He chuckles, a dark, mocking sound, as he brings my fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean. "Your body doesn't lie, Lorei. And your pussy is dripping wet, begging for me."

He leans in, his mouth a breath from mine, and I tip toward him, my eyes fluttering closed, desperate for his kiss. But he doesn't give it to me. Instead, he trails his lips down my neck, nipping at my collarbone, making me gasp. His hand slides into my hair, tilting my head back, giving him more access. And like an idiot, I cling to him, my body aching for more.

Then his phone rings and he pulls back completely, already reaching for the phone before I've even caught my breath. Didn’t even hesitate at all. "Walker, what is it?"

I stand there against the bookshelf, chest heaving, mortified at how fast I fell apart and how fast he moved on, like I'm some toy he can pick up and set down whenever he pleases. 

He doesn't even look at me again. He's already talking numbers into the phone, turning back toward his desk.

I need to leave. Right now.

I slip out of his study on shaking legs, humiliation burning hot up my neck, and I'm almost to the stairs when I hear his voice drift out through the half-open door, still on the call.

"....no, that account's clean, nothing traces back. The marina thing is handled. It's been handled for months."

I stop dead on the staircase. The marina thing?

I start moving again as he’s suddenly stopped talking. But before I make it to the top, I hear his voice again. 

"And where do you think, you’re going?" he growls. "I didn't dismiss you."

I freeze, my heart pounding, as he approaches, his eyes dark. "Touch yourself," he orders, his voice barely above a whisper. "Make yourself come, right here, right now."

I hesitate, my face burning with humiliation, but the commanding aura in his eyes keeps me rooted to the spot. "Now," he growls, his voice leaving no room for argument.

My hand slides down my skirt, my fingers finding my clit, already swollen and aching for release. I moan, my eyes fluttering closed as I circle the sensitive bud, my body responding to his command.

"Eyes on me," he snaps, and I obey, my eyes finding his as I continue to touch myself. "That's it. Show me how much you want me."

I whimper, my body coiling tight as I chase my release, my eyes locked onto his. He watches me, his expression unreadable, as I bring myself to the edge, my breath coming in short gasps.

"Stop," he commands, and I freeze, my body trembling with need. "Not yet. Not until I say so."

I moan, my fingers stilling as I fight to hold back my orgasm. He smirks, enjoying my torment, as he turns and walks back into his study, leaving me stranded and aching on the staircase.

I stand there, panting, my body on fire with need and humiliation, as I hear him continue his call, his voice a low rumble. "No, we can't risk exposure. We'll need to…."

I flee to my room, and shut the door, breathing hard, humiliation and fear tangled together so tight I can't tell which one's winning. My face is still flushed, and my inner thighs are still aching from not cumming. But my mind keeps echoing his voice in my head. 

The marina thing is handled

What the hell is “the marina thing?”

My heart is pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. I don't know what that means. I don't even know if it means anything at all. It could be about a completely different marina, a completely different situation that has nothing to do with my father. But I can't make myself believe that. Not with the way he said it. His voice was too careful. It was like he didn’t want me to hear.

I need to find out what he knows. I need to actually find out, not just wonder about it anymore.

I pull out my laptop and start a new document and start typing. I don't have proof of anything yet. I don't even have a real lead, just a feeling. But I write it down anyway, because it's the first thing that's felt like doing something instead of just surviving whatever this house has turned me into.

The marina thing is handled.

I stare at those five words until they blur, and somewhere underneath the fear, something else starts to build.

I'm going to find out exactly what he meant.