I ended the call. Nobody surely was interested in what Constantijin had to say.
Marge pulled me close for a brief, warm hug and kissed my cheek before releasing me. "You look more and more beautiful every time I see you, dear," she said as she took a seat across me.
"You, too, Mrs. Kastein." It was true. She was dressed in this lovely pale pink sheath and matching pumps. A choker of pearls around her neck was her only accessory, and it made her look like a spunkier middle-aged version of Audrey Hepburn.
There was a moment of silence between us before she spoke again. "Thank you for defending me that night, Yanna."
The words had me completely flustered. "It was nothing, Mrs. Kastein---"
"Marge, please, and of course it's not nothing, Yanna. Only a few people would have cared to defend me that way."
I grimaced. "That way meaning turning into a war freak, right?"
She laughed. "I prefer war freaks to wimps." She called for a waiter then, ordering for coffee and a slice of cake. Looking back at me, she said softly, "You know, I had wanted to call you the very next day, but Constantijin asked me to wait."
"He did?" Constantijin's action confused me yet again, but then that wasn't really new, was it?
His mother sighed. "If you haven't noticed by now, my son is not the type to take a lot of risks when it comes to his feelings. I suppose he thought he had to do more things to … win you over to his side before we unloaded more of the family baggage on you."
Thinking very carefully of what I wanted to say and what was safe to reveal, I finally murmured, "No matter what others say, I'll always think you're a wonderful woman and a great mother."
"And my son?"
Biting back a sigh because I was hoping she wouldn't ask that, I mumbled, "He's great, too."
"And … " When I didn't answer, Marge said in an even tone, "You love him, don't you?"
Oh, shit.
"Mrs. Kastein, I mean, Marge, I don't---"
"Yanna, I can see it in your face."
Oh, oh shit.
"Please don't tell him that," I heard myself whispering. It felt humiliating to do so, but I had to. Life with Constantijin was the sweetest it could be, and I just wasn't ready to have it end so soon. "He's not---"
"He's not ready to hear it, I know," she interrupted with a sad smile. "Yanna, I am a proud woman myself so believe me when I tell you that what I'm about to say does not come easy for me. But I want what is best for my son and I think you are that."
Her order came just then, and she reached for her cup with slightly trembling fingers. "I was a whore back then, Yanna. But what Constantijin can't ever bear to admit to himself was that time I was also heavily addicted to drugs. It was the reason I couldn't get a job to raise him properly. Whoring was an easy way and it would still have been my life if Erik hadn't found me. His father was---is---an angel. He could have had any woman in the world and yet he chose me. He fell in love with me."
Her fingers tightened around her cup as she took a sip, as if preparing herself for another painful revelation. My chest hurt as I waited, my heart aching for what Constantijin and his entire family had to go through.
"For a while, I couldn't make myself love Erik---I felt I was too unworthy and I did everything to make him leave me. I had sex with his friend, his driver, I went to bed with anyone close to Erik who was willing to betray him."
Inhaling deeply, Marge said with a tear-clogged voice, "But he didn't leave me. He kept on loving me until I was too tired not to love him back. I thought it would be okay then, but I didn't realize that the one who would pay for my mistakes was my son."
I couldn't stop crying when she said those words. Even if she didn't say anything else after that, I already knew, could easily imagine what followed, and her words proved my fears true.
"He was twelve when he first learned about my past. He got into so many fights after that but he never blamed me. When he was seventeen, he started going out with the daughter of one of our neighbors. She was perfect on paper – pretty, smart, witty, the right pedigree. And then he caught her having sex with another boy – someone whom he considered his own friend."
A painful shudder racked Marge's body. "It was like the past all over again. And … and I know my son, Yanna. He was so gentle back then, so loving. And I think he would have forgiven her, he had a heart like his father. But that girl wasn't me. She didn't love my son the way I loved Erik. She hated being caught in the wrong so she lashed out. She said he should forgive her the way his father had forgiven me for fucking everyone in his life."
Marge's eyes met mine, pleading for something I was afraid to give a name to. "Yanna, I know my son is not perfect. I know you know that he doesn't seem to want to love you, but it's not that. It was never that. He's just afraid he'd be like his father if he falls in love again."
Lesson #9
Your billionaire can be an ass.
But he will be the most delightful ass.
After pushing the last box of my belongings past the door, Constantijin kicked the door shut and said triumphantly, "And that's it. You are now under my lock and key."
My heart squeezed at the joy underlining his words. My heart did that a lot lately – ever since I had that talk with Marge a week ago. But Constantijin didn't know a thing about it, and Marge didn't have to tell me to keep it a secret. Sometimes, the only way you could love someone was to pretend you didn't know who he really was.
Mustering up a teasing smile, I said, "There's something wrong with your English again."
But Constantijin only shrugged. "We must celebrate."
"I'm not ready to throw a party," I warned him, alarmed at the gleam in his eyes. And I meant financially since I hadn't been able to resist buying furniture for my new home. Constantijin had been really smart by sending his mother to me as my interior decorator. With her, I couldn't even make myself say ;no' when she insisted prettily in using her son's credit card.
"Sort of," he answered, his grin mysterious as he reached for me and took me out to the balcony. Standing next to the rails, my back against his chest, Constantijin whispered to my ear, "Do you remember what I said when I was in Dubai?"
I froze. "Constantijin … "
But he was already lifting my skirt up, and by the time I felt the wind teasing the bare skin of my thighs, I was already wet for him. And when I heard him unzipping his pants behind me, I had to clutch the edge of the railing's marbled top because my body was already shaking too badly with anticipation and desire.
"Oh, God." I let out a whimper as Constantijin pushed me forward, my breasts flattening against the marble as I felt his burning-hot cock knock against my entrance.
"Ready?"
I shook my head furiously.
He chuckled. "Good. It makes this all the more better." And then he was sliding in.
Even though the darkness of the night cloaked us, I still felt deliciously exposed as I stared at the world below. My new home was the topmost floor of a five-story building, high enough for people not to see us from the streets but low enough for me to hear the sounds of everyone and everything that was taking place around us.
His tongue made one painstakingly slow swirl around my ear, making me gasp as my body became even more sensitive to the smooth and deep thrusts of his cock. "If you moan for me loud enough, people might see that I'm fucking you."
Biting my ear, he asked huskily, "Do you want that?"
"No," I managed to gasp even as I thrust back wildly against him, wishing I could take more of him in.
"Are you sure of that, sweetheart?" He pulled all the way out until his cock was barely grazing my sex.
"Constantijin!"
"But I want them to hear you."
"Jerk," I hissed at him, twisting my head to the sides so I could only glare at him.
"Moan for me."
"No." But I ruined it by trying to press my lower body closer to him, helplessly looking for a way to make him enter me again. A mewl of protest escaped me when Constantijin gripped my hips, forcing it to stop moving.
"Constantijin!"
"Only if you promise to moan as loudly as you can." I felt him move behind me, and then I could only moan as Constantijin took hold of his cock to tease the folds of my sex.
When he applied gentle force to the small of my back, I let him push me down further until I was practically lying on the expansive top of the marbled railing, my hands gripping its outer edge.
"Will you scream for me, sweetheart?"
When he reached between my legs to thumb my clit, I could only gasp out, "Yes, damn you." And then he was pounding into me and I screamed with each hard and fast thrust.