Lacus Arsenault's pov
Irie reminded me of Anne of Green Gable and is not just because she's always wearing double braids. They are both intelligent, imaginative and adorable.
She reminds me of my mother too, my eyes watered when I thought of my mother. The way her soft hand caresses where my father has slapped. I'll never feel that warmth again. But I bit my lip to stop me from crying, my father's voice echoed in my head. 'Only weakling cries.'
I haven't cried in years. I haven't cried the day she announced she have heart disease at the dinner table. I haven't cried the day the vibrating line on the heart monitor turned straight with a beep. I haven't cried the day I saw her beautiful face in the casket as if she's just sleeping. I wasn't planning to break my record now.
I like stalking Irie during my free time, it is a very amusing and relaxing activity. There's so much more to her than her elegant blue eyes. I would sit in my office during day time and wonder endlessly about what she's doing right now. Is she studying? Or is she taking a walk in the garden she loved so much?
She studies a lot, such a nerd, it reminds me of my childhood friend Demien, I thought as I used my AK-47's scope to peer through her window. Everyday she comes back she'd swing her backpack to her mattress and dugs out her homeworks. She flips through the pages, taking in all the information. She looks even more beautiful when she's concentrating on something. Her eyebrows furrow occasionally whenever she comes across something she did not understand.
I crawled into her window once, inspecting her room, I wanna know every piece of her private life. I expected my darling's room to be colourful just like her personality, maybe cerulean like her eyes. But I was disappointed when I discovered everything is white. There's nothing but a plain desk with some books on it and a small mattress. The mattress lies pathetically on the ground, is only a single size, these motherfuckers didn't even give her a bed!
The pillow sank down on where her head lies, she must've just got out of the bed. I slipped into her bed, though I was too tall for this bed, my feet dangling at the edge. I buried my head into her pillow, taking in her sweet scent, the scent of home.
I examined her dainty handwriting. They are so neat, perfectly lined up, unlike my rough jagged ones.
Not only she writes in alphabets she also writes these boxy looking characters, Chinese I presume. Not only does she use the pen she also uses brushes to write them, along with black ink. She wrote them on a big red piece of paper and hung it in her room. When I saw it I had to fight my urges to take them down and bring them to my office. They are so small yet so full of detail. I study each stroke carefully, they are so complicated, I gotta make her teach me sometime.
We haven't talked since the time I sent her the video of Samson getting what he deserved. I wasn't originally planning to kill him, it was too much trouble.
After I fucked Irie she curled up like a kitten beside me, we held eachother when we fell asleep. I wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of her crying. Her eyes screwed shut and she kept muttering 'Samson, how could you.' or 'Samson, I missed you so much.' She sobbed in pain and I pulled her into a hug. Her head pressed against my muscular chest and her breathing seemed to calm after listening to my heartbeat. Poor darling must've been traumatised.
My darling must've been so happy seeing me carried her revenge to such a great length. I expected her to shower me with compliments and tell me what a great job I did once she found out.
She blocked me, including a message that said 'thank you, Lacus. looks like our deal is done. Let's not contact each other again after this.' It sounds as if she wanted nothing to do with me. My nostril flares when I read the message. How dare she reject me? Especially when I just did her a huge favour. She should be grateful that I spared her a look. Didn't she know there's ten thousand girls begging for my company. I'm the perfect man being, I'm handsome, intelligent, have authority, , rich. Maybe she's just playing hard to get.
I only got more irritated when I saw my darling talking with a boy in the garden. They were standing so close, his face was merely inches away from her's. My fist balled when I stalked in the distance. For a second I thought they were gonna kiss, good thing they didn't, otherwise I might've snapped that boy's neck.
If she won't come to me willingly, then I'll do it by force. I always get what I want. I'll get my man to kidnap her as soon as I finish solving the tension between my mafia and 'street diablo.' The Mexican mafia.
I walk down the corridor as I pace back and forth in annoyance, trying to come up with a solution that will satisfy both parties. The street diablo and the arsenault family have been partners for decades, doing illegal trades of drugs, slaves, weapons, eversince the times of my great grandfather. But a few days ago we were making a trade of heroin in Yukon territory, the leader of street diablo's right handed men - Ethan was killed. Everyone knows he is very fond of Ethan, rumour said they were lovers.
Santiago convinced it was our doing, but it was not. Probably the policies or other hostile criminal group who is trying to stir trouble.
Uma approaches me, her hip sways with each click of her heels. She placed one hand over my shoulder seductively. "My dear, are you tired?"
I glance at Uma in disgust. She's wearing a black leather bunny girl lingerie, the kind you see at the Paradise Den, the most popular strip club in Scarborough. Her perfume smells so strong that it hurts my head.
I frowned and begin walking without sparing her a second glance. But she chases after me like a pest. "C'mon daddy~ Let's have some play time." She said in her fake pitchy voice.
Stupid bitch, she think I doesn't know her real voice. I seen her true colour all over the security camera that is scattered out throughout the mansion. In Front of me she pretended she's so soft and kind. But I seen the stuff she done to the other mistresses and other slaves.
My fiance doesn't care about me having mistresses. Our engagement is more of a partnership arranged by my father rather than a romantic one. We both know each other had their separated sex life and acknowledged it.
We will have sex if we have to, when it comes to the point when I needed heirs. My fiance is a stunning woman, her waving brown hair falls all the way to her hip, her lip is bright red against her bronze skin, but I don't try to touch her. we grow up together, fucking her would be like fucking your own sister.
Not only is Roxy a divine beauty, she's also my adviser, my protector, my closest family right next to my father. She saved me so many times in the past, both my life and in dire situations with her quick thinking. She'd take a bullet for me and I'd do the same for her.
I stared down at Uma, seeing her exposed cleavage. "Such a desperate whore." I muttered. She didn't look offended, she smiled like i just complimented her.
"I want your cock." She whispered in my ears. Her hot breath meets my face and I'm reminded of the mouth of a vicious beast.
I wish I could say she's ugly but she's not. She got the perfect hourglass body, a pair of G cup boobs though I bet is made through plastic surgery.
Maybe having sex with another woman will help me stop being obsessed with Irie. So I pulled Uma into one of the many empty rooms in our mansion and started kissing her passionately against the wall after I locked the door.
She smiled vigorously and kissed me back. She's a good kisser. Her tongue moves like a slithering snake, unlike Irie's awkward unmoving one. I waited for my dick to start getting hard but that feeling never came. Is weird how I can get hard just by thinking about Irie's cerulean eyes but not when I made out with a girl hot as a model. Our tongue tangled in our mouth, both battling for dominance.
Soon kisses became not enough for her, she fiddled with my belt, unlocking them with her fingers, shaking from anticipation. My pants fell down, exposing my limped cocked. She tries to hide the disappointment in her eyes but I see them anyway.
She sucked my dick like a popsicle, her head bobs eagerly as if she have been starved for days. Her throat bulged visibly with every thrust of mine. She's good at sucking dick, she's able to take in my entire length. Probably had a lot of practice.
I closed my eyes and imagined that it was Irie who's sucking on my dick. I recall the way she runs my length with her small hands, I recall the way her orbs decorated with tears when I gripped her braids in my fist. I recall the way she coughed after I cumed in her mouth. Only then I begin to harden.
"Am I doing a good job daddy? " Uma's extra pitchy voice cuts through my imaginations like scissors with a ribbon, she sounds like she's proud for getting an erection out of me when is not even her doing.
I pulled out angrily, slapping my dick against her cheek in frustration. She giggled like a schoolgirl. The saliva smeared on her cheek, ruining her makeup. The makeup paints in a way that twisted her facial expression, making her look even more hideous.
I layed next to her boobs that are the size of my head for the rest of the night, yet all I can think about is Irie's flat ones nuzzled against me. I'd trade all my mistresses for just one more night with Irie.