ProserpinaI stood under the hot sprays of water, scrubbing my skin. The purple outfit that Melisa had got me lay in a crumpled heap in the laundry basket. I was weeping; the disgust I had felt when that man put his hands over me, rubbing his erection into me… I almost puked again. Sobbing, I rubbed my mouth, hating him for having done what he had done.I felt violated and I sobbed again, leaning against the wall.Lucien’s Son. For the love of God, he had touched me and molested me.I leant against the wall, sinking to the cool wet tiles, burying my face in my arms and sobbing wildly.*LucienHe heard her before he entered the bathroom. Her loud cries, like an animal in distress, came from the shower cubicle and without a thought, he stored in. He was dressed, his jacket getting drenched immediately but the sight of his woman curled into a piteous ball as she sat, weeping inconsolably, made him feel as though someone had put a hand inside his chest and wrenched his heart, squeezed it
LucienProserpina had come awake at dawn again and rushed to the bathroom. He came awake at once and hearing her retching violently, he rose, following her to the bathroom. She stood, swaying and then leaning against the wall, ashen-faced, purple bruises under her eyes. Without a word, he helped her wash and brush her teeth for she insisted and then he helped her back to bed. Standing over her, his face tight with concern, he watched as she sipped a cup of weak tea that Beatrice brought up immediately at his summons. She had also slipped in a sedative, again on Lucien’s instructions.Proserpina fell asleep soon after in his arms, holding his muscular arms to her chest. He had felt his manhood swell and knew he wanted to take her but not like this, not when she was so vulnerable and exhausted, mentally and physically after her ordeal. After a lot of agonising moments, he had made do with wedging his hard shaft between the cheeks of her rounded a*s. She had murmured in slight protest bu
That nightShe had been annoyed at having been peremptorily dragged from a delicious meal at the elite restaurant because her lover was growing jealous of the looks she was getting.Turning to him, dimpling mischievously her curvaceous body visible through the near-transparent night shirt, she had shaken her head firmly.“No, I want to look at the moon.’ she declared impishly and tilted her chin obstinately, turning her back on him deliberately, goading him although she knew he was aroused.He had said, in a harsher tone,“Woman, get here or I shall f*ck the sh*t out of you, on the balcony.’She had erupted in giggles, clearly disbelieving.Feeling as though she was challenging him with her firm refusal to obey him, he had walked out on to the balcony, naked, his c*ck prominently erect and stiff. She needed to be taught a lesson.When he approached her and kissed her hungrily, she had melted in his arms, thinking that as always, they would return to the bedroom behind him. But he had
RiaShe wandered downstairs after a fitful sleep, rubbing her eyes and yawning as she entered the kitchen, expecting to see her mother, bustling about.To her astonishment, it was a grim-faced Camille and Beatrice who sat at the well-scrubbed, spotlessly clean kitchen table, sipping coffee. Beatrice looked as though she had been weeping and Ria rushed forward in alarm, hurrying to wrap her arms around the old woman’s shoulders. That was when she became aware of Philippe Diaz lounging in the doorway, a mug of steaming coffee in his large hands. She felt the flush rise up in her cheeks. She was in her short shorts and her T-shirt, a well-worn one and her golden hair was in an untidy braid, over a shoulder.But he helped her out; Philippe turned to place the mug on the counter and with a nod at her and a ‘See you later, Bea,’ he strolled out into the hallway, heading to her father’s study.She felt ridiculously bereft and tried not to look after his disappearing back. But then, she remem
RiaShe ran into her brothers on the landing, where Piers was standing with Claude. Both of them looked so alike except that Piers was taller and leaner, his thick blonde hair longer at the back. Claude had a crew cut, close to his scalp and his shoulder muscles bulged as he stood, arguing fiercely with his elder sibling. There was a tattoo on his arm and Ria stared. This was a new one. Some sort of vicious-looking creature.As she approached, she got the gist of the heated discussion.The morning sunlight flooded the wide corridor, the large windows overlooking the lawn and the grounds beyond, clearly visible through the windows. One of the maids was busy vacuuming and glanced up to smile at Ria who gave her a quick grin as she hurried to get to her brothers. It was a sunny day and she had thought of going swimming with her sister and brothers but now, after last night and this morning, all she wanted was to make sure that her mother was well.*‘… not our brother,’ she heard Claude
ProserpinaBeatrice waddled in with a pot of weak tea and dry biscuits, fussing around me and the children drifted away.‘I need to talk to your mother,’ rasped Lucien and the children melted away. Piers came to me and kissed my cheek fondly.‘Get better soon, Mumma,’ he said, my handsome child-man,’ I want to have that delicious Indian naan and curry before I leave tomorrow.’I dimpled up at him as Lucien frowned. Claude winked and waved. He was not given much to hugs and he said,’Mumma, I gotta practice. Got a big fight lined up for this weekend.’Dom piped up excitedly, ’Is it against Reefer Joe?’ The youngsters were avid fans of the sport and boisterous fans of their big brother, and with a sinking heart, I knew that my younger sons would also , most probably follow in their father’s footsteps and take to boxing.Claude glanced at his father; the flippant look disappearing as he nodded when he saw that his father's laser-grey eyes were trained on him.‘Have you been practising, b
RiaShe had finally managed to get her younger sister to open her bedroom door; the silly girl refused to open it till she threatened to bring Claude to break it down. When Tara flung open the door, Ria stepped back in shock. Her sister looked terrible. She must have been crying, for her eyes were swollen and her nose was red.Tara tended to be too dramatic, thought Ria privately but her mother had gently reminded her that it was part of being an artist. Ria did not think so but she did not want to disagree with her mother.“Being a teen had its ups and downs,’ mused Ria as she watched her sister flounce to the bed and throw herself down like a heroine in an old movie. There had been too much happening around her in her growing-up years for her to have the luxury of being too much of a drama queen herself. Mumma had been kidnapped, Pappa had been caught and kept prisoner by a mad woman and Mumma and Philippe had freed him with of course, help from Uncle Schwartz!She sighed as she loo
Ria was wise enough not to tell her parents the hurtful remarks her sister had made. Instead, she had asked Camille to come to take her temperature and before she knew it, Tara was back in bed, drinking the hot toddy prepared by Beatrice which would drive any fever away with its awful taste, as Claude was wont to say. She dozed off under the watchful eyes of her sister who stood, thinking hard. Finally, coming to a decision, Ria marched off to find her father.*LucienHe was sweating as he sat at his wife’s bedside, his eyes glued on what the doctor’s assistant was doing. The lab where the sonography was about to take place was chilly but the Mafia Don was tense.*Lucien Delano glared again at the assistant at the clinic, a chit of a girl, who was staring. open-mouthed, at his woman and then at him, sneaking furtive looks their way as though they were a novelty. He fixed her with a cold look and the poor girl was soon shaking and the hands that were smearing the ultrasound gel on Pr