Chapter 23

Nyla

The rest of the dinner was uneventful and to be honest, even though I enjoyed my vacation, I was ready to go back to normalcy. Heinrich was giving me whiplash with all of this hot and cold he was doing with me.

We walked back onto the yacht and Heinrich said to me “Join me for a drink before bed on the deck.”

While I was still internally seething with what I felt like were head games, I needed to keep my cool. So, I followed him for a drink wanting to remain in my silence. It didn’t seem to bother him so I continued to let my inner thoughts run rampant in my brain.

He genuinely seemed to enjoy my company alone sometimes, whether it was with conversation or just silence. With a drink in my hand and enjoying the balmy breeze under the cloudless starry sky, I sat down on one of the loungers.

Heinrich followed behind me and sat down next to me. Next thing I know, unexpectedly he takes the drink from my hand and caresses my jaw with the back of his hand. He draws me in so seductively, it’s like my body silently answers the unmade call from his. He kisses me so enticingly and controlled, while the other night was unplanned, it seems as though this was something he’s been wanting to do for a while.

He tasted like mint and scotch. It wasn’t sloppy or wet like Sullivan’s, it was taunting and teasing. He’d tickle his tongue with mine not really fighting for control, because I knew Heinrich always had that in spades, but it was enough to draw me in wanting more.

I could honestly get lost in his kisses, and I wondered why he waited so long to kiss me. It’s like I was parched in the middle of the Sahara desert and his kiss was the cool drink of water that I had been dying for. Again this man messes with my mind. If I had never been intoxicated before, his kisses could definitely do that to me.


Right when he had me wet and panting for more, he stopped. He takes a long swallow of his drink, gets up and says, “Our flight leaves first thing in the morning. Have a nice night, Nyla.” And with that, he walks away. Making me question this arrangement.

It didn't take much for me to get back into routine after the Seychelles' with Heinrich, even though now there was this new ache for him. You know the ache that we try to fight off and ignore that we don't need more than what we have?

Truth is I felt myself slipping into something very familiar when it came to Heinrich, and immediately felt foolish once again for thinking of more. I missed him and I knew that it was unhealthy to miss him in any way that didn't end in fulfilling an orgasm.

I regretted answering Sullivan's text because the messages didn't stop and they only spawned gifts and bouquets of flowers at least twice a week. I kept myself busy and tried to concentrate on things that didn't involve Heinrich.

The days came and went and before I knew it, it had been almost a month with no contact from Heinrich. I felt it was for the best that we didn't. Especially with the confusion that was filling me.

When a writer has a story they have to tell it. And just as a writer writes, I paint. It has been years since I've picked up a brush, but I have to paint. My mind can't think of anything else but painting. My easel, acrylic paint, and Nicpro brushes were all I need for now.

I was no longer the bound woman, well in a sense. Some nights I was bound, other nights I was free. With Quincy Jones’ "The Secret Garden" coming through the speakers, I took my first stroke. Barry White was the first voice to peek over the melody, with strokes coming so effortlessly.

I told my story through my art. All of my pain, my pleasure, my freedom. All on a canvas. My submission was the most powerful, most freeing thing I've ever done and the amazing orgasms keep me submitting. I desired them, him and the high of an orgasm. I used to chase them. Now, Heinrich hands them to me effortlessly.

No more fighting with my body to become aroused. My body is now always in a constant state of arousal. But only for him. Each stroke of his beautiful thick cock he painted me from the inside out. From the blush red of my honey skin to the white heat of passion that runs through me. The creamy white seed that he places inside my pink walls. It's a masterpiece, our masterpiece.

Stepping back, I viewed my work. I myself was impressed. A strong hand around a slender neck, full red lips just a breath from kissing a pair of dusky rose lips. Honey and tan skin peering through the black background. I could see the strength the power he held in his hands. The power he was holding was her everything, her desire, her pleasure, her love, her next breath was his to take. Submission.

The woman in the painting was offering complete submission, all of herself was his to control. Life is art. This piece was my life. I'd entered into a life of submission, Heinrich held everything I was in his hands. One thing was missing. I grabbed my brush and then grabbed my acrylic glaze. The eyes of the lovers are closed but a tear escapes her eye, down the side of her face meeting his thumb.

While viewing my work, the feelings that came over me were overwhelming. So overwhelming that I felt warm and fuzzy but on the brink of tears. The deep ache my body was experiencing was alarming and uncontrollable, I was addicted to him in more ways than one.

I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath to suppress the feelings, I shuddered at the name that passed my lips with the breath that escaped me.

"Heinrich."

If I weren't alone I could swear he was here and my body was ready to react to him all over again. I felt his hand on my neck and I could feel his breath and mine mingling before he would place a lust filled kiss into my mouth.

The ache for him was becoming unbearable, it had been months since we met but just about every week like clockwork we had contact. So these last few weeks without him showed me just how much he owned me. All of me.

I came back to reality when my iPhones signature tune was going off, a FaceTime request from Moll. I sat the brush down on the counter and answered quickly.

"Hey, Moll!" I said pushing my hair out of my face.

"Guess who's at the airport?" She said moving her phone so I could see she was at JFK.

"Oh my God! You're on your way?!" It was a question and an answer all at once.

"Yep. Will be there in like 2 hours, we're boarding now." I could hear all of the people around her at the airport as she began to walk to the ticket gate.

"I will be waiting for you at the airport!"

"Tell X we're going out tonight. I have to go babe, but see you soon." She said placing a kiss on the screen as I did the same.

Our call ended and I dialed Xavier up. After that night, I did apologize and we were back to being ourselves, but soon I knew this secret wouldn't remain hidden.

"You will not believe who's on their way here!" I said without saying hello.

"Hello to you, too." He chuckled through the phone before saying "Who?"

"Molly will be here in a few hours she's at JFK. We're going out tonight."

"Finally, that case is over. It was driving her insane." We both laughed because it was, the long nights were getting to her.

"Ok do you want to ride with me to the airport?"

He hesitated, but not in the sense of being upset. I had the feeling Clover had his attention, "I will meet you two at your house. There's something I have to do before."

"Like what?" I said with a raised eyebrow.

"Ny, I have to call you back." He said while he was sounding out of breath.

"Oh my gosh, X!" I said before hanging up. It's not like he'd care that I hung up, he was preoccupied in trying to fulfill one of the most basic needs. The need to cum.

It was already a new year and things couldn't get any better, now that Molly was on her way here. All the pieces were coming together. I hurried to shower and get the loft ready for Molly's arrival. I styled my curls with a banana hair clip, leaving the front sleek and all my curls centered.

The style fit my black fitted cowl neck long sleeved sweater dress. I completed my look with my fur coat and matching booties. January in Chicago was no joke.

I left the loft an hour before her flight arrived, because traffic was never predictable. I waited at her gate eager to see my best friend, my sister and my rock. Excitement consumed me!

The plane was landing and I was standing with two caramel frappes with extra whip and extra caramel. It was cold but who could resist the temptation of Starbucks’ frappes? I sure as hell couldn't.

The passengers began to disperse, looking for loved ones and luggage. Molly appeared yawning. She had just woken up. Our eyes met and our smiles stopped time in its racks. We made our way to each other, hugging and on the verge of tears.

"It's so good to see you." I said while squeezing her. Our embrace said everything we couldn't at that moment. We separated and I handed her the custom frappe as we walked side by side. We made our walk to baggage claim or as I call it "airport hell."

"How is Shane?" I said breaking the silence.

"He's good. He sends his love." She said before sipping her drink.

"Xavier will meet us back at the loft he was busy doing God knows what when I had called him." She quirked a brow. "I think he and Clover were either in the midst of fucking or they were about to." I said while helping her grab her bag.

"Oh my god, he really is our brother!" She exclaimed, letting out a laugh that caused me to laugh with a warm heart. We got a taxi back to my house where we would wait for Xavier, who said he'd bring some food and wine. The man knew the way to our hearts.

"Nyla this place is amazing!" She said while giving it the full rundown.

"Thanks babe." I said putting her bag away in my closet. She had gotten quiet and that was very unlike her. I walked through the house to find her in the kitchen staring at my painting, in complete utter admiration.

"Yeah. I woke up and had to paint." I said placing my coat on the back of the breakfast bar stool.

She turned my way saying "I like him already."

"You haven't even met him, Moll." I said with traces of regret, because we never talked about meeting each other's family or friends.

"Well, tell him thank you for me when you see him. It's been a long time since you've painted and the world deserves to see your work, Ny." She wrapped her arms around me in a hug I didn't even know I needed, but she did. "You love him." I stepped back out of the hug and looked at her like she was crazy and out of her damn mind.

"I love the way he fucks me and I love the way he controls my body. That's a big difference, Moll." I said agitated... but why?

"Where's the wine." She said with a lazy smile.

"Everyone decent?" Xavier said as he came in seeing me and Molly standing feet away from each other. "What's going on?" He said sitting the bags on the breakfast bar.

"Nothing that a few drinks and the truth won't cure." Molly said hugging Xavier who lifted her off of her feet. Molly was making our plates: lasagna, salad and breadsticks Xavier had gotten from the Italian restaurant not far from here. He poured the wine and I was sitting on the bar in deep thought.

"I'm just going to guess this has something to do with Heinrich?" Xavier said while taking a bite of his breadstick. They began talking as if I weren't even here, it made me smile. I was no longer angry at her observation because I knew it wasn't true.

"Look at that painting. What does it say to you?" Molly said to Xavier while stuffing a forkful of salad into her mouth.

"I know one thing, it's a fucking masterpiece. That's sexy as hell, Ny." He said as I sipped my wine with a grin.

"You want to tell us what you were doing when I called you earlier?" The most devilish smirk appeared on his face.

"I was minding my business." He said as he sent a wink my way. "We definitely are enjoying ourselves. The man is energetic as hell! I've joined the gym just to keep up." Xavier said and we all laughed.

"It must run in the family." I said and immediately regretted turning the conversation back on myself.