Buying The Virgin Part 1-3 novel Chapter 53

Michael reaches into the pocket of his robe and pulls something out: a small box. He does not try to give it to me. Instead, he opens it, showing me the contents: a ring. It is very beautiful: interwoven strands of gold in different shades, gleaming threads of yellow and white together.

My throat dry, I reach with a finger to touch the ring, stroking it in its silken cushion, but I do not take it.

“I’m not asking you for an answer now,” he says. “I’ll keep it for you. You can take your time. Think about it for as long as you want.” Then he takes me by the shoulders and kisses my forehead. “Really,” he says, “no pressure. But please think about it.”

Lost for words, I just stare at him. He begins to look upset. “Please tell me you will at least think about it.”

I nod. “Yes, I’ll think about it.”

*****

My Master pulls up outside and I rush out to meet him, Michael following in my wake.

“Master! How are you?”

“I’m good Charlotte. Glad to be back here again with you both.”

He hugs me and swings me around, kissing me soundly, but I notice his eyes lock briefly with Michael’s. Is it my imagination? Michael gives him the smallest of headshakes, all but invisible.

We go back inside, my Master’s arm around my waist from one side, Michael’s from the other.

“How was your trip?” asks Michael.

“Very successful: much more so than I expected.”

“They’ve extended your contract?”

“Better than that. I’ve been offered a directorship. Apparently, this first phase was a practice run for me, while they weighed me up. Haswell wants me to take charge of the project.”

“That’s great, James. I…. assume you accepted?”

“Oh yes.” My Master rubs his hands together. “Why would I not? All that hard work is paying off at last.”

“It sounds as though congratulations are in order then?”

“I think so, yes. Do we have any…? Ah, Charlotte. Thank you.”

I hand him a glass of champagne, and another to Michael.

“Congratulations, Master.”

“Yes, congratulations, James.”

“Thank you both.”

*****

Later, alone with my Master: “I see that you have not accepted Michael’s offer.” His eyes slide sideways to the ring, braided white and yellow gold, gleaming, in its open box on the mantle.

“No. I didn’t.” I am a little disconcerted. I had not expected my Master to be the one who would bring this up.

“May I ask, why not?” He sips his wine, face expressionless, but holding me with his gaze.

My eyes flood, but I choke them back while I try to speak. My voice is small. “Don’t you want me anymore, Master?”

“Why would you think that?”

“It sounds as though you are trying to palm me off on Michael.”

For a moment, he stands frozen, then, for the first time since I have known him, he looks really angry.

“Palm you off? Forgive me, but, ‘Palm you off’? Onto my closest friend? A man who adores you? Who wants nothing more than to be with you? To marry you? Palm you off? You do me an injustice, Charlotte. Michael too.”

His anger fades, but he looks hurt and offended.

“I’m sorry, Master, but, I mean, you were my first… you know that, no-one better… and, how could I walk away from you? I don’t want to walk away from you.”

“And who says you would have to? Did Michael say that?”

“No… he didn’t.” I feel as though I am confessing, but what have I done?

“What did he say?” My Master’s face is unsympathetic.

“Um… that he would never try to rob me of you.”

“You think he was insincere? Lying to you?”

“No, but…”

“I am glad to hear it. Michael is one of the most trustworthy men I have ever known.”

He stands, gazing down at me. His voice is a little gentler, but still I detect the steel in there.

“So…. tell me… What did Michael say? And what did you say? This is not a request. I want to know.”

I almost whisper the words, trying to speak through a throat tight and dry. I cannot meet my Master’s gaze, looking down as I speak.

“He said that…. you think you are too old for me… that you will never marry me. He said that he loves me. He offered me the ring and asked that I think about it.”

“That’s better.” His voice softens. “Charlotte, look at me. Charlotte…” He takes my chin in one hand, forcing up my face to his. Listen to me. Michael is correct. I will not marry you, however I may feel about you. And I am too old for you. You are a young woman. You will still be a young woman when I am an old man.”

“I don’t care about that, Master.”

“No, perhaps not now, but you will in a few years’ time. Michael is much closer to your own age. And besides, I have been married before, in the past. It was not a success.”

“What happened to your wife, Master? You told me, when I first knew you, that you were married once, but you never said any more about it.”

He hesitates. “She left me.”

Why would any woman leave him?

“Why, Master? What went wrong?”

He grimaces, self-mockery writ large. “She couldn’t handle my…. idiosyncrasies.”

“Sorry?”

“Charlotte, do I have to spell it out? I get off on slapping a woman’s ass ‘til it lights up the room, then sucking her dry as she cums. It’s not every woman that is cut out for that.”

I grin. “But I am.”

He winks. “So you are.”

The mood has lightened a bit, perhaps I can….

“But you and I…”

“Charlotte, what lies between you and I, from our very first day, was by consent only. Nothing else legitimizes the kind of relationship we have. Almost everyone we know, all the people that you and I, and Michael, have met together, in the clubs or anywhere else, understand the bond between you and me. I am your Master. But what does Michael have? He has never said so to me in so many words, but I think he feels like an add-on, a bonus extra for you. How do you think that makes him feel? He loves you Charlotte, and yet he feels like the extra guest at the party.”

He almost shakes my head, pinching at my chin.

“Do you understand what I am saying to you? Michael will never come between you and me, but he has to feel that he has a role.”

I feel a bit sick inside. How could I not have realised this? My Michael, my Golden Lover, who I was jealous over when another woman made a play for him… and he feels left out…

I hang my head. “I’m sorry, Master. I understand now. You, and me, and Michael….”

“Yes… You and Me and Michael….”

“I’ll talk to him…”

“No need. I got most of that,” comes Michael’s voice from behind me.

Face blushing scarlet… How long has he been there...?

I whirl around, flushed with embarrassment and confusion; my Master and my Lover to either side of me.

“You knew he was there,” I hiss at my Master.

He is unperturbed. “Of course I knew. I thought this should be a three-way conversation to begin with, but Michael wanted to spend some time alone with you.”

“So,” begins Michael, “where do we go from here?” His arms are folded, legs akimbo, his manner defensive. And my heart melts completely…

What a bitch I’ve been…

“Um…. I think this is the starting point.” I say, reaching up for the small leather-bound box on the mantle.

I take out the beautiful ring, braided ribbons of white and yellow gold, slightly scalloped at the edges from the weaving of the metals, and place it on my finger, left hand, fourth finger.