71 - Yours

"This is a place where grandmothers hold babies on their laps under the stars and whisper in their ears that the lights in the sky are holes in the floor of heaven."

― Rick Bragg

. . .

"You are messing it up!" I grumbled, taking the tablet and stylus from him. I undid what he had done.

Xerxes rolled his eyes. "You didn't even let me try."

"You made my flower look like a rock!" He was too bad at this. He shrugged, smirking. "I can make your flower cum."

My cheeks flushed at that.

We were in a small dingy motel room that smelled of bleach. But it was clean and I didn't have anything to do with the mattress, I normally slept on one of them. Xerxes was sitting against the headboard, half-naked, and I was dressed in a nightgown, still not allowed to wear panties.

"The lines-" I explained, choosing to ignore what he had said. "-are supposed to be soft. It's not a solid thing, it's a flower. You kind of have to draw it the same way you touch it."

"I touch it rather harshly sometimes." "Xerxes!"

He winked, taking the tablet back from me with the stylus. "I'll try to be

gentle with your flower now, my love."

My cheeks were going to fall off. It was both - a delight and a torment to be around them all the time.

He did a better job this time. I taught him a little more and he actually got better at it. They were so freaking smart.

"I want to draw you," he said. "Take your grown off." "W-what?"

He smiled, twirling the stylus between his rings-covered fingers. "Take it off and get on your knees on the bed with your hands on your thighs. Undo your braid, too."

I slowly did as I was told. I took my shown off and sat there, naked with only my bra on, just the way he wanted with my hands on my thighs. My head lowered, embarrassment and excitement buzzing through me.

"So pretty," he muttered, and then he got to work. It was an effort to not squirm under his gaze, to not squeeze my thighs together every time he looked at me with that intense possessiveness in his eyes which should have made me want to run away but it made me want to shift closer to him.

When he was done, he gently ordered me to wear my gown again. He showed the drawing to me.

It was rough, a little too rough, but he had done quite a good job. He had used only black, defining my curves with many lines. My hair was shown to be curling around my shoulders. There was a solid circle of just white around me but beyond that circle was intense darkness which he had shown with multiple lines crossing each other. Yes, perhaps the darkness could just be a frame to the drawing but it didn't seem like it.

"You hold it back," he told me quietly.

"Hold what back?" I asked, looking up at him and I somehow knew the answer, I had seen it in this twenty-minute drawing.

"The darkness." He shrugged. "Every fucked up shit which has happened. You hold it all back. I don't know how, I don't know why, but you just do..." He took my hands on him, pressing kisses to my knuckles. "I..." He shook his head. "I don't deserve you," he said to me, and he said with so much clarity that it broke my heart. He deserved me. God, if there was someone who didn't deserve the other, it was me. I didn't deserve them.

He let go of my hands and pulled me on his lap. I looked up at him, unable to look away.

He brushed a strand of my hair behind my ear. "I love you," he whispered and I froze. "And I have loved you for a while and I know that I will love you forever because you leave me no choice." He set his forehead against mine. "No choice but to love you every day - and I can't think of a better thing to do. Loving you is so fucking good, Olivia." He kissed me. "And I don't plan on stopping, ever."

"I'm gonna cry," I whispered.

He chuckled. "Don't cry." He brushed the small tear which escaped anyway. "You're too precious to cry." He kissed my forehead and I hugged him. He wrapped his arms around me, breathing me in as I was breathing him in.

"Don't ever leave me. Don't ever leave us," he said. "Promise me." "I won't." The words were natural as if I had just confirmed a fact. "Promise?" He asked.

I nodded. "Promise."

We stayed like that for a while. Ashton and Zavier were out to talk to the mafia men who were guarding us.

"Xerxes..." "Hmm?"

"I...I wanted to ask something." I looked up at him.

"What is it?" He asked softly, tanning his hand through my hair. "Before me..." Speak, Olivia. "How many girls did you three...share?" His hand froze.

I looked down at my hands which held his hand. "Little love...look at me."

I looked up at him, preparing myself for the answer.

"None," he answered. "We've never shared a girl before. It was not something we wanted to do till we saw you." He tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. "We had submissive, yes, many of them but none of them called us daddy..." He kissed my forehead. "None of them were you, hmm?"

I bit my lip. "None of them called you daddy?"

He shook his head. "Nope. None of them called me or Zavier or Ashton daddy."

"So..."

"We are yours." He set his forehead against mine. "Your daddies. Your dominants. Your boyfriends or whatever the fuck you want to call us," he murmured. "And you are ours. Our good little girl. Our little submissive and our filthy little whore." My breath hitched. "Now, sleep. We have to wake up early tomorrow." He smirked at my expression. I knew I looked desperate for a release.

And I knew they wouldn't give it to me a second before they wanted to.

. . .