XAVIER'S POV
Lisa was bent on the bed on all fours. Her hand hand-cuffed. Her eyes covered with the blindfold and she was dripping wet.
Wet and ready for me.
My emotions and feelings were running wilder and I got harder with each second.
Her a-ss cheeks were red from the whip slaps and her moans were mixed with pain and pleasure.
The moans were music to my ears and if I could, I would listen to them all day.
My fingers had found its way to her opening and I could feel how wet she was.
I leaned over and began to kiss her beautiful body.
I wanted her to know that I appreciated her. Her body was immaculate and perfect for me.
It was dark in the private room, the lights were off and it was hard for me to see clearly. But I realized something, as I trailed kisses up Lisa's a-ss and her back. I realized that there was a bruise on her back.
It was new….fresh. I had fcked her earlier in the dinning hall and the bruise hadn't been there. But now, I felt the slight raised skin on her lower back and I knew it was a bruise. And she made a noise as my lips trailed over it.
A noise of pain. She groaned in pain.
I pulled off the blind fold from her eyes immediately. And quickly reached for the light switch and turned on the lights immediately.
Lisa turned to me.
"Me Jackson. Is anything wrong? Why did you take off the blindfold or switch on the light? Why did you stop? Don't you want to fck me anymore" She asked.
"Who did that to you?" I asked as I reached for the shelf. I grabbed the keys to the handcuff and unlocked her.
Lisa sat up, confused.
"Did I do something wrong, Mr Jackson? Please tell me." She said.
"The bruise, on your back. What happened?" I asked and gestures towards it.
She immediately understood what I meant and sighed.
She reached for her dress and tried to cover it but I wasn't having it.
I needed answers. A name. I wanted to know who hurt her.
I reached for her, pulling her hands away and pushing the dress aside.
"Who did this to you, Lisa?" I asked in anger.
I could feel the rage inside of me. I didn't care about fcking her anymore.
Oh No. I cared about beating the sh!t out of anyone who dared to touch her.
And the worst part was that she tried to cover it.
She looked away, her eyes darting.
I gripped her chin, forcing her to look at me.
Tears filled her eyes and I could feel my heart ache.
But I kept myself still.
I wanted her to tell me. I wanted her to tell me who did this to her.
"Who did this to you, Lisa? Tell me. Tell me now. I swear to God that I will kill him. Tell me who it was. It was fcking Enzo right? I will beat him so bad that he won't be able to see. I will kill him for hurting you. Who did this? TELL ME WHO IT WAS. TELL ME. YOU BELONG TO ME. TELL ME WHO IT WAS SO THAT I CAN FCKING BEAT THE SH!T OUT OF THEM." I yelled.
I was so angry. My fists were clenched. I punched the wall beside me in rage.
She jumped, frightened by my actions.
But I didn't care. I wanted her to just tell me.
I was overwhelmed with feelings and emotions and as someone who was trained never to feel anything, this was a lot for me.
I didn't know if it was because she was the first person I had ever felt something for or because I couldn't control my d-amn feelings
I was losing it.
She was crying now.
And I pulled her to me, into my arms. The tears streamed down her face.
I had scared her. I had been too harsh.
But I couldn't think straight.
The thought of her being hurt. The sight of the bruise on her back. The outburst of my emotion.
It was too much for me to handle.
She cried and I held her, kissing her forehead and whispering,
"I am sorry, Lisa. I didn't mean to do that. I am sorry. It wasn't my intention to make you cry." I whispered.
"I hate seeing you cry. I told you earlier. The only tears I want to see are tears gotten from the pleasure I give you. Not this." I said and held her closer. My hand stroked hair hair.
It was a while before she stopped crying.
I pulled away, cupping her face and wiping her tears.
I kissed her eyes, her cheeks, her lips and her forehead.
"Why don't you just tell me?" I asked.
"Please. I want to know how you got that bruise. Tell me who did this to you, Lisa. Please just tell me. Let me take care of this. Don't worry, I won't hurt them. I promise. I won't touch them. I will have one of my men take care of this. Just let me know. Who did this to you, Lisa." I pleaded.
I laid my head on her thighs. My arms wrapped around her tiny waist.
"Tell me Lisa. Please. Talk to me." I pleaded.
I looked up at her.
And she wiped her tears and looked at me.
Her hand reached out and cupped my cheek.
She stared into my eyes.
It was then that I realized. The look in her eyes. The tears.
She was crying and still didn't speak.
Was she afraid? Who could possibly scare her so much that she wouldn't want to tell me about it.
I owned the mansion. Doesn't she realize that I would be able to protect her from anyone and anything?
Why was she looking at me like that.
Her eyes were filled with tears and sadness.
Her lips were quivering.
Why wasn't she telling me who did it?
Her hand was cupping my cheek, her fingers gently tracing circles on my skin.
Why wasn't she talking?
All she did was cry.
Her tears fell and she wiped them off.
She was trying to say something.
I could see the words at the tip of her tongue.
But her voice refused to speak.
Instead, more tears fell.
Her chest rose and fell and I could hear her sobbing. And then she spoke.
"It doesn't matter, Mr Jackson." She said.
"It doesn't matter anymore. Don't think about it. Let's just live in the moment. Don't waste your energy, Mr. Jackson. Don't hurt yourself trying to help me. You have done so much already. What more do I want from you. You don't need to save me, Mr. Jackson." She said.
"Paying my mum debts and hospital bills was more than enough. You don't have to be my savior. You and Enzo don't have to keep saving me. I can handle things myself."
That was all she said.
She didn't speak again. No matter how much I begged her.
After a while, Lisa got up from the bed. She got dressed, wiped her tears and left the room.
Leaving me sitting on the bed, wondering what the hell had happened.
I ran my fingers through my hair and sighed.
Lisa had walked out without a word.
I had tried to follow her.
But I realized, that maybe she needed her space.
So I didn't run after her.
Instead, I called Henry through the intercom.
"I need you in the private room, immediately." I spoke.
A few minutes later, Henry appeared.
He came in, bowing to me and closing the door behind him.
He stood in front of me and spoke,
"Yes, sir."
"I need you to find out what the fck happened to Lisa." I said immediately.
"What do you mean, Mr Jackson?" Henry asked. "Is everything ok? Did something happen to Lisa?"
"Yes. Something happened to Lisa. She has this bruise on her back and she doesn't want to tell me who did it. I'm sure it's that b-astard Enzo. I will kill him for touching her. I see the way he looks at her. It infuriates me. I will kill him if he dares touch her again. " I said.
"Why don't you just ask her what happened, yourself?" Henry asked.
"She won't tell me. She is crying and won't say a word. So go find out what the fck happened. I want you to get it out of her. Go to her, find her, ask her who did this to her and bring the name to me." I ordered him.
"Also call the doctor to come over, tell him to check her, examine her and make sure that whoever did this, didn't hurt her badly. I need to know if she is okay. And send a bottle of champagne and strawberries to her room, right now." I said.
"Also, ask the chef to prepare a meal for her. Make sure she is fine, Henry. Go to her room, right now. Talk to her, make her feel better and then come to me, once you have the name. Go, Henry. Get out of here. Leave now. I need you to do this, Henry. Do it for me. Hurry, go, Henry. Find out what the fck happened." I ordered him.
"Yes, Mr Jackson." Henry said. He bowed again and left.
I slumped on the bed. I rubbed my temples.
The image of Lisa crying flashed in my head.
I closed my eyes.
This wasn't a good feeling.
To have someone you care about be hurt. To not be able to help them. To not be able to prevent the pain. To not be able to stop it.
It wasn't a good feeling. It wasn't a good feeling at all.
I wasn't used to this type of emotion. It reminded me of my parents death. How helpless I felt when I couldn't do anything.
How useless and weak I felt.
I couldn't stand this feeling again. It was driving me insane.
I just wanted to know who did this to her.
Who had hurt her? Who had put their hands on her and left a mark.
Who the fck dared touch her?
My hands curled into a fist.
I would beat the sh!t out of the person once Henry told me.
Fck. But most importantly, the major question in my mind was….
Why is it that Lisa doesn't trust me?