Proserpina
The last time we had been together had been a few months ago, when Lucien took me to Portugal for a holiday. A truly magical getaway!
Those days in Portugal had been memorable, the sunny days, the nights of intense lovemaking. Even after more than a decade, I still hungered for my lover’s touch, totally at his mercy and he continued to be the dominant, rough man he had been when he had first claimed me. Lucien could never seem to have enough of my body and I longed to have him take me the way he did, controlling my body and yet, taking me to the heights of ecstasy with his practised hands and mouth…and forceful, thrusting manhood…
*
I had come down with a tummy upset during our stay, a slight discomfort but I had stopped the Pill for a few weeks…
*
The doctor clucked his tongue sympathetically when I stammered out my explanation and said,
‘The medicines you took when you got the stomach bug…it could have neutralized the Pill.’
I sighed.
*
Lucien did not like to use condoms. He wanted to feel himself deep inside me when we made love, he growled and I had never raised an objection to that… that evening, I had stopped the Pill as I had a tummy upset after dinner. I must have become pregnant after That, I mused, chewing my lip thoughtfully, my cheeks turning hot.
But now, as I drove back, it was not that thought that made me bite my lip in uncertainty.
It was the thought of my life today, at this moment.
*
The house was deserted now; my oldest children were in University and only came home during the weekends. Ria was majoring in Psychology at the University and doing a great job at it, She was almost eighteen, as was her twin brother, Piers who was doing his major in accountancy. Handsome, cool, Piers who was unflappable, totally in contrast to his twin, Ria.
Lucien wanted him to do a course in Business Administration. Yes, my husband wanted to make sure that our clever, astute eldest son would handle his sprawling business empire.
And of course, take over as a Mafia Boss in the days to come.
I sighed.
*
And then there was our third son, Claude. The Devil’s spawn, as they called him behind his back, of course.
A vision of Claude came to mind. Big-boned and with a raw masculinity that reminded me of his father, the aggressiveness, the virility which was so characteristic of Lucien Delano. Cold blue-grey eyes that sliced to the very soul of a person, enough to put the fear of God in the soul of anyone who dared to cross him.
Rebellious, thrown out of more schools than I cared to count, my hotheaded son had shown his fondness for using his fists to prove a point one time too many. Most times, in the defense of his autistic half-brother, Paddy.
Finally, exasperated beyond control, Lucien had put his foot down; the boy would make a fine fighter in the ring, provided he was trained well, he had declared and no amount of begging and pleading on my part had made my adamant husband change his mind.
To my astonishment, I found that Claude actually thrived. Still in his teens, the youth seemed to have found his calling, Melissa had remarked drily. Melissa Lord was a dear friend, the wife of Tristan Lord> She was aware of the heights of pleasure and the pain that inevitably accompanied loving men who were tough and our stories were peppered with the violence and sorrow that inevitably came with loving men like Lucien St Claire and Tristan Lord.
Which was why she was my closest friend today.
*
I had never worked up the courage to watch my son in the Ring myself but I knew, from my enthusiastic family, that he was a born boxer. Ria and the younger ones, Dom, Tara and Louis, my triplets, had waxed eloquent over his skills. At times like that, I would feel both Claude and Lucien watching me since they knew about my aversion to the sport.
As for Paddy, the son we had adopted and the boy I loved as my own, a regular college course was beyond him. Autistic as he was, he was helpless when bullied. So we had arranged for him to do his courses in the safety of our home. He accompanied Claude when the young man went for his boxing and advanced fight classes.
I indulged Paddy who was actually the nephew of the woman I had trusted implicitly, a long time ago. But Sophia had tried to kill me and had also been instrumental in getting me kidnapped and almost sold off into the flesh trade.
Paddy adored me and after Sophia had committed suicide, blowing herself up before our house, strapped with the explosives that had been meant to kill us all, I had begged Lucien to adopt Paddy.
My lover had agreed but I knew he could never bring himself to care for the boy. As for me, I loved the youth with all my heart. Paddy now had a state-of-the-art room in the basement with as many gadgets and computers and wires as he could possibly long for. The numerous giant screens had been installed according to his specifications and I suspected that he was into ethical hacking. But he was happy in his kingdom and that was what I wanted for my boy.
All the other children inevitably wound up there on weekends but Lucien never went there. Yet I knew that my husband kept tabs on what was happening in every corner of our house. And he knew exactly What was going on in every corner of his mansion.
I smiled; the Delano household was truly a microcosm of the world!
*
The youngest, my three little ones, were now at school. They were doing well, by all accounts. Tara, my daughter, had taken over as the second favourite in her father’s eyes while Louis was more like Piers. Dominique, the third was sharp and witty. Tara could twist Lucien around her little finger, almost as much as Ria could.
*
“You like your daughters more than your sons, Lucien.’ I had rebuked him once when the triplets were still tiny, not a year old.
Lucien had unerringly lifted little Tara into his arms, cradling her as though she was the most precious thing in the world while his tiny sons stared up at him.
He had grunted, burying his face in the little one’s neck, inhaling the fragrance of baby powder and milk, all at once.
And then, turning to encircle my waist with an arm, he rasped gruffly, as he pulled me to his body and kissed me hard,
“I have a weakness for little girls, woman. Don’t you know that?’
I had felt my cheeks turning pink with mortification as the nurses coughed to hide their knowing smirks.
*
But it was only during the past weeks, that I had sensed that something was off.
Although I kept myself busy with my work at the Buddhist Centre, which was flourishing, something was not right. My relations with my beloved husband were not the way they used to be.
Something was wrong.
Lucien was avoiding me.
*
I swallowed.
He did not come home on most nights these days and I had missed the presence of that big, bulky body beside me, his heavy arm tugging me to his hardness. The rough, savage way he claimed me almost every night.
But I had never imagined that he was carrying on with another woman; had never thought that he had another family secreted away somewhere else!