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  I took a deep breath, “I was raised in Tampa, Florida, and I don’t really know where I was born, I assume it was there. My mother was a Grade-A bitch Sebastian. She never took care of me; I can’t remember one hug, one kiss, not even a fucking ‘I love you’. I’ve never met my father and I never even asked. It’s not like she would tell me, anyway.

  She was a selfish, immature, fucking loser. I grew up in section eight housing where my only friends were stray cats that I would play with. There was never any food and I remember going to bed hungry more than not. My mother was also a prostitute, I couldn’t tell you how many times men would come in and out, our home was a revolving door.

  I would clean up booze, condoms, and drugs pretty much on a daily basis. The house reeked of sex, cigarettes, and alcohol, it didn’t matter how many times I tried to air it out. It was permanently imbedded in the air.”

  “I’m so sorry, Baby.” He whispered kissing the side of my face.

  “It gets a lot worse, Sebastian.” I chuckled out of the pure nervousness.

  “When I turned twelve and got my period for the first time my mother saw dollar signs. I went to bed one night and woke up with an immense amount of weight on me, at first I thought it was my mother and something had happened. When I felt a hand over my mouth and the other one fondling me all over, I barely had time to register what the fuck was going on.” I paused for a moment, I had to, I felt like I was re-living it all over again.

  “I didn’t move, I didn’t fight, and I barely made a sound. I was scared shitless and prayed for the first time in my life that it would be over quick. God didn’t hear my prayers because the fucker took forever. He wasn’t gentle, he was nasty, and awful, and enjoyed it every fucking second of it.

  When it was over he just got up, grabbed his coat, and left. I heard my mother in the hallway talking about money; she knew what was going on. She planned it.

  After he left she didn’t come in my room to comfort me. I laid there all night with his stench still on me. I could barely move the next morning, when I had to clean the blood in between my thighs. I couldn’t look at the sheets it looked like someone had been murdered on them, and in a sense somebody had. I threw them away and slept on a mattress for the next several months.”

  I couldn’t turn around to look at Sebastian’s face, I was too afraid of what I would see. I had never told anyone that. I had to keep going. I had to finally tell someone what I had survived.

  “After that I barely ever went home. I went to school, I’d go to the park, and I would wait till it was really dark outside before I would climb through my window. I barracked my door with a chair the best I could, and slept with a knife under my pillow.

  My mother didn’t seem to notice that I was even gone. The next few years I grew up and started to become a woman I guess…I grew breasts and a womanly figure. I learned at an extremely young age how to use that to my advantage.

  I started using boys to do stuff for me, it didn’t matter what it was if I wanted it or needed it I would give away sexual favors for it. I didn’t have sex with them, I couldn’t. I was too fucked up to even go there, but the other stuff was alright.

  The next time I had sex, it was when I decided to get the fuck out of my house. It was with a random guy from school, who gave me a lift to Miami. When I was sixteen, I left and never looked back. I haven’t seen my mother in eight years. I didn’t tell her I was leaving I just left. I haven’t heard from her, and odds are she probably doesn’t even remember I ever existed.

  Once I got to Miami, I met Devon- the guy from the bar that you met. I worked there for two years and then I met Madam; the rest is history.”

  Sebastian hadn’t said a word since I started talking and I was anxious to what I would turn to. I think he could sense it, because he finally asked me to turn around and when I did I saw more emotion on this one man’s face than I had ever seen on any person before. It wasn’t like he was passing judgment or pitying me, more like he was feeling everything I had just shared with him. It was as if he had experienced it with me.

  I thought I would feel uncomfortable in his presence, after sharing all that with him, feeling vulnerable and exposed to him much more than I had before, I didn’t, it felt right, he felt right. I didn’t know if it was the Molly or me, in that instant I wanted to tell him I loved him. I wanted to shout it from the rooftops; I wanted the whole world to know that I loved this man.

  I loved a man who was taken by somebody else, a father and a husband. I had never planned on it, and it was never thought out, being in love with a married man was one of the hardest things I had ever put myself into. I knew he cared for me, he returned each and every affection and feeling, but I still knew he went home to his wife.

  Love is a very funny thing, the desire, the want, the need, the attraction; it’s all these chemicals that release the same endorphins that may be similar to what we were experiencing then. It was an emotional roller coaster; he made a commitment, and vows to another person. I didn’t know how it had happened, but I had become the other woman.

  S

  The immense emotions that I felt when she told me about her childhood made me want to kill that motherfucker, even her own mother. I wanted to cry, I was afraid of the effect it would have on me, not being able to stop, and I wanted to be strong for her. She needed that from me and I was going to give it to her.

  I wasn’t sure how I was going to do this, it was something that she needed. I would have given this woman the moon and the stars had it been possible. I just didn’t know how to react to everything that she had just told me, we came from different worlds. I’d never been around drugs, lived in the slums, gone to bed hungry, or any of the other fucked-up shit, I'd just heard. I grew up the rich kid, the baseball star, the good-looking guy all the girls wanted. I didn't know what to say. I wanted to take it all, go back in time, and trade places with her if I could.

  She didn't deserve that life. I wanted to make her forget who she was or where she came from. I couldn't. I knew whether she would admit it or not that it weighted her down. She wasn't this tough girl that she let her persona show. Deep down, Ysabelle was broken. I was going to put her back together. I didn’t know how I was going to do it, but I was going to make it happen.

  I pulled her into my lap, causing her to have to straddle my legs, and kissed the skin on her chest that was bare. She looked down and held my face in her hands with the most fucked up emotional eyes I'd ever seen.

  The realization hit me like a ton of bricks; I fucking loved her. Shit. I loved her more than anything. This was so fucking bad; I was thinking all sorts of thoughts, thoughts that would end up breaking Julia’s heart. I wanted Ysabelle to truly be mine and for me to be hers. I wanted this for real, in daily life, going to bed together, waking up together, the fights, the makeups, the good, and bad. I wanted it all. The Future. All those thoughts were quickly replaced with the now. Right in the moment, where the world stopped spinning for us. Where we were an US.

  She closed her eyes and lifted her chin for me to kiss her neck, I didn't. I pulled her lips to mine and we kissed like we were never going to see each other again. It wasn't the drugs. I knew it wasn't the drugs. It was us; Ysabelle and Sebastian, sharing something, sharing a hysterical, desperate touch that warmed my blood, and soothed my soul. Ysabelle was meant to come into my life, as I was hers. We were meant to be together, she was my soul mate. I knew it in my heart.

  “Sebastian, stop thinking…stop thinking and just feel.” I knew she was thinking the same thing I was, that’s how in tune we were with each other.

  “Close your eyes.” She encouraged.

  I did as I was told and I felt her tiny fingers start taking off my shirt until I felt the air on my chest, her nails started raking up and down from my chest to my lower abdomen. I could feel her lightly blowing air after the trails of her nails. It felt sensual and stimulating.

  It was mind-blowing when I felt her hand caress my dick on top of my sho

rts.

  “You want it, Sebastian?” She teased, I didn’t have to open my eyes to know she was grinning.

  “Tell me what you want and I’ll do it? Huh…What’s your fantasy?”

  She reached for the sides of my shorts and lowered them to pull out my cock, the warmth of her hands felt like nothing I had ever experienced. The movement of both her hands going up and down my shaft in a slow torturous rhythm had me barley being able to breathe.

  “Baby, I want your mouth on me.” I pleaded.

  She began at my balls licking and taking each one in her mouth, before she moved to the base of my cock, taking the tip of her tongue and twirling it all around to the top of my head. When she got there, she lightly nipped at it until she took me into her mouth and sucked.

  She moaned the most delicious sound when she took me in completely, I wasn’t just getting off on what she was doing to me, the movements and the noises she was making intensified it. All of it was a sensory overload for me. I felt her ease up and get off the lounger.

  “Don’t open your eyes.” She demanded, as she laid down the lounger to make it flat. I heard her remove her clothing until I imagined she was naked, and I wanted to open my eyes so fucking bad.

  I felt the lounger take a dip till her smooth thighs were on the sides of my face. I could smell her arousal for me, as she lowered herself into my mouth. I breathed her in until I couldn’t take it anymore, and began lapping at her pussy. She was so wet and tasted fucking ridiculous. I wanted to eat her pussy like it was the last thing I was ever going to taste.

  When I felt her mouth on me once again it was then that I grasped that we were in the 69 position. We had never done this before. It was exhilarating and thrilling to be experiencing another new thing with her.

  We engulfed each other with the overwhelming techniques we were using on our most sacred parts. Ysabelle sucked my cock like a fucking pro, it was beyond me why I hadn’t come yet. She was taking me deep in the back of her throat with her hand never letting up; gliding and twisting around my shaft.

  I had never felt her clit so exposed before, I barely had to touch it and she was withering on top of me. I took my fingers and roughly pushed them into her pussy, within seconds she was coming all over my face.

  I couldn’t take it anymore and I needed to be inside her, her mouth felt divine, and her pussy would feel out of this world.

  “Baby, come ride my cock.” I begged in a voice I didn’t even recognize.

  She cunningly smiled back at me before she positioned herself on top of me, facing away instead of towards, I immediately leaned forward to make the lounger sit up.

  The sensation of Ysabelle’s pussy sliding down my shaft was ecstasy in itself.

  She rested her hands on my thighs before rolling forward and backwards with her hips. Watching her ass bounce was fucking phenomenal. I was never a fan of anal anything, with Ysabelle I wanted it and I wanted it bad. I played with her clit until my fingers were soaked in her come, and then I lubed up the pucker of her ass until she moaned in delight.

  “That feel good, Baby? You want me to play with your ass?”

  I pushed forward little by little until my first knuckle was in and then I pushed a second finger in till my fingers easily flowed in and out. My girl loved it and it made her pussy even fucking tighter. I reached around with my other hand and proceeded to play with her clit.

  “Your pussy is gripping my cock, you were made for me, you know that? You are mine Ysa, I’m never letting you go. You’re my girl.” I possessively declared.

  Ysabelle was going fucking wild with her noises and movements; I wouldn’t be surprised if security was called. I didn’t give a shit though; watching her take pleasure with such relinquishment was unbelievable.

  “Oh my God Sebastian, I’m going to come, come with me. Please, come with me…” She moaned.

  Her hand moved to my balls and she started tugging and pulling, and fuck if it didn’t feel even more intense. Even though Ysabelle and I were fucking it still felt like making love. Once her pussy constricted on my cock it allowed my fingers to effortlessly push all the way in. Within seconds, we were both panting and moaning until neither one of us could take it anymore. We both came hard and together.

  It was nirvana.

  Chapter 22

  Words cannot describe the night we spent together. We talked, laughed, made

  love an endless amount of times, and watched the sun come up together. It was a paradise of everything I could have hoped and wished for, I never wanted it to end. I wanted to stay in our little bubble we had created forever.

  We spent the rest of the weekend in bed, watching movies, football, and completely enamored with one another. The Molly had only intensified our feelings for one another; I hadn’t expected the effect to be that profound. When Sunday came I found myself getting teary eyed that he was leaving me.

  I knew where he was going and why he had to leave, and I fucking hated it. I wish I had the courage to tell him this was done because my heart was becoming overly emotionally invested, but I couldn’t do it even if I wanted to.

  So when he left me to return to his family, I stayed in our bed that we made love in numerous times for the rest of the day before checking out of the hotel. Once I went home I laid in my own bed in a bottomless depression, I couldn’t even shower because I wanted his smell on me.

  It was actually quite pathetic. I wanted to talk to him and text him badly, I knew I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t risk him being around his wife and I knew if she found out it would be over. I wasn’t being naïve thinking that he would choose me over her, and I didn’t want to have to give him a reason to.

  The only thing I had when we weren’t together were the pictures, I had started taking of us. I had taken several now and I loved being able to look back on the memory, it made me feel like he was still with me.

  It was a day later and I finally made myself take a shower; I came out into the kitchen and nearly dropped my towel.

  “What the hell, Madam” I said with my hand on my chest, “you scared the shit out of me. Can’t you knock?’

  “Since when have I ever had to knock, Bella Rosa?” She said with an edge to her tone.

  “I don’t know…never mind. What’s up?” I questioned walking over to my fridge to grab some water. My hair swayed as I reached for a bottle of water on the bottom shelf of my fridge.

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw Madam lunge at me and I suddenly backed up, she forcefully grabbed my arm making me stop dead in my tracks.

  “What the fuck is that, Ysabelle?” She yelled.

  “What are you talking about, let go of me,” I demanded, “you’re hurting me.”

  “You let him fucking mark you!” She violently yelled.

  Shaking my head in confusion, “What?”

  She dragged me over to the mirror in my living room, never letting up on my arm and effortlessly turned me to see the purple marks all over the back of my neck.

  Fuck.

  I tried pulling myself away from her and it only made her hold me harder, she was going to bruise me. That’s not what I was worried about, the look on her face said she was ready to kill. I was treading on thin water.

  “What the fuck are you doing, Ysabelle? What the hell is going on?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about? Nothing is going on. Let go of me.” I urged.

  “This is complete bullshit. You NEVER let a client mark you. You aren’t someone’s God damn property.” She yelled, tightening her hold more.

  “Really Madam? Not even yours?” She pushed me with such force, that I fell right to the ground on my ass.

  “You ungrateful child.” She spewed looking at me with disgust.

  “I’m not a child.” I angrily retorted.

  “Oh really Ysabelle, then why the fuck are you acting like one? Have I taught you nothing? You have been with infinite number of men and not ever have I had to worry about you. I made you who you are, remember

that. Where is your loyalty? You’re going to lose it…for a fucking married man!” She irately shouted.

  “You know what your boyfriend does when you’re not around, he makes love to his wife, he tells her he can’t live without her, and that he loves her. You know what you are? You’re his whore! That’s what he’s paying for, that’s what he wants from you. And you’re handing him your heart on a silver fucking platter.”

  She shook her head “you stupid, stupid girl…you know nothing.”

  I wanted to say something, anything, I couldn’t find the words. Everything she was saying was true. There was no argument. I just sat there in silence letting her tell me everything that my mind and conscience already knew.

  She extended her hand to me and I took it, after I was standing she helped me put my hair and towel back in place, and then she pulled me into a hug.

  “Bella Rosa…my Darling Girl…don’t let this be the end of you. Do you understand me?” She whispered.

  “Yes.” I quietly replied.

  She kissed me on the cheek and left my apartment.

  I looked around my apartment, blowing out a puff of air. What the hell was I doing? I had it made. I loved my life, and Madam was right, I was a very stupid girl. I was letting a man fuck up my life. I had to stop this, and just thinking about it tugged at my heart. I couldn’t lose Madam, she was the only family I had. I would be alone without her, completely alone.

  I grabbed the Grey Goose from my liquor cabinet and drank it straight out of the bottle. It burned the entire way down. I hadn’t heard from Sebastian in almost two days, I needed to get ahold of him. I needed to stop this and the insanity that came with it. It wasn’t fair to either of us.

  I took a couple more swigs of the bottle until I finally felt the effects; my belly was warm and my mind was numb. I sat on my couch staring off into the black screen of my TV that was off. I don’t know how long I stayed there wallowing in my own self-pity, that is until I heard the familiar ding of my phone coming from the kitchen counter.