Cardinal's Rule

Chapter Ten

Tilly awoke Sunday morning to find Landry propped up on one elbow and staring down at her with a playful smile.

“What?” she asked.

He shook his head, leaned in, and kissed her. “I mean this in the best way possible, but I cannot believe I am marrying you today.”

“I’m glad you qualified that first.”

“I felt it necessary, to prevent any misunderstandings.” He kissed her again, this time long and slow, gently, his tongue slipping between her lips and tasting. His cheeks felt rough with morning stubble and it wasn’t long before her hand slipped behind his neck to hold him in place.

He rolled on top of her and she enjoyed the feel of his solid weight pressing her body into the mattress. It’d been way too long and she craved his touch. His hard cock rubbed against her thigh through his boxers.

He lifted his head. “You are an amazing woman, Tilly,” he said, his eyes searching hers. “You have a beautiful soul and a limitless heart.”

His mushiness made her a little uncomfortable. She didn’t want to open her heart to him just to get hurt. Her house, bed, and legs? Sure. Not her heart.

Not yet.

But she found it hard to keep it closed.

“Most women,” he continued, “would have told me to go fuck myself.”

“I’m not most women.”

“For that I would thank the heavens if I were a religious man.” From the look in his eyes, she suspected he wanted to say more. She waited him out. “May I ask something?”

She nodded.

“If at the end of our agreement you do consider leaving, would you at least allow me the chance to argue my case or renegotiate for you to stay?”

“Don’t want to lose your shirt?” she quipped, trying to lighten the tone.

His face looked sad. “I have been broke before. I’m more worried about you taking my heart than my money.”

She pondered his comment after he left their bed to go make them coffee. She headed into the shower. Maybe she wasn’t the only one seeing this as more than “just” a business deal. As stupid as it sounded, she did feel something for him.

Loren pulled strings with the place that did her nails and asked them to take care of them special on a Sunday even though they were normally closed. Landry paid extra for that, of course. She would be on her way there soon to pick up Tilly and take her for the rest of the day. Landry would meet them later at the club with Cris before the wedding.

As Landry stepped into the shower, she turned and their eyes met. Without thinking about it she was in his arms, kissing him, voraciously trying to devour him then and there.

He returned her kiss with equal passion, his cock stiff and pressing against her body. His large hands slid down her wet skin to her ass, holding her still so she wouldn’t wriggle free and sneak his cock between her legs.

“Later, love,” he hoarsely said as he held her. “Please don’t torture me yet. I’m too close to the edge.”

Her hands moved to his back, her fingers tracing his spine, his firm muscles. “Why is this so important to you? Why can’t we do it now and just pretend it’s the first time in front of Cris?”

“There have been enough omissions in my relationship with him and in yours also. A few more hours of torment are well worth it.” He rubbed his chin in her wet hair. “Believe me, love, you shall be fucked well and hard tonight.”

She wanted to be fucked well and hard right now. She tried to squirm against him, but he clamped his elbows against his side, trapping her arms around him. “Behave, love,” he playfully chastised.

“Easy for you to say. You didn’t go through a long dry spell.”

A little tension flowed out of his body. “You’re right.” He stepped forward until her back pressed against the wall. Then he dropped to his knees and looked up at her. “You’re absolutely right. I owe you this.” He pushed her thighs apart and lowered his mouth to her mons. His talented tongue swept along her clit, driving rational thought from her mind.

She held on to his shoulders for support, not realizing how hard she dug her nails into him, her legs trembling as he pressed two fingers inside her. It didn’t take him long to draw a hard, screaming orgasm out of her. Once he did he stood and pulled her into his arms, holding her as she laid her face against his chest and cried in his arms.

“Shh, love, it’s all right.” He gently maneuvered her until they stood under the spray, still holding her, soothing her. “Good?”

“Fuck. Good isn’t even on the same planet as that.”

He chuckled. “At least I know of one way to possibly keep you with me then. I shall make sure you stay well-satisfied in bed.”

She roughly laughed. “How do you know I’ll be any good in bed?”

“If what you did to me was any indication of how good you are, love, I have no doubts I will be more than satisfied.”

He finished showering first and returned to the kitchen with a towel wrapped around his hips.

When the doorbell rang a little after eight, it didn’t surprise him. Loren wasn’t due until eight-thirty, but he knew from the time he’d spent with her yesterday that she loved Tilly and after she’d recovered from her initial shock over the news, she was looking forward to the wedding.

Mug of coffee in hand, he walked to the front door and opened it.

Loren immediately walked in. “I know I’m early, but I—” She noticed his towel and blushed.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to get you out of the shower.”

He smiled as he closed the door behind her. “I was already out of the shower. Coffee?”

“Oh. Um, yeah.”

He smiled to himself as he led the way to the kitchen, knowing she studied his body as they walked.

He heard Tilly call from the bedroom. “Was that the doorbell?”

“Yes, love. Loren’s here.”

“Goddammit!”

He laughed as he sat at the table and crossed his legs. Loren’s blush deepened. “Don’t mind her,” he said. “She’s a nervous bride.”

Loren’s gaze had firmly fixed on his towel, which he knew was in danger of falling open and exposing him. He didn’t bother adjusting it.

Tilly bustled into the kitchen, wearing a bathrobe and with a towel wrapped around her damp hair. “Lor, I knew you’d do this to me, I—” Her mouth snapped shut when she spotted Landry sitting there. “Jesus Christ, would you please go put some clothes on! Loren, quit drooling over him.”

Loren had poured herself a mug of coffee. “Dammit, Tilly, you can’t ask me not to look.”

“He’s my fiancé. Let me get a ring on him before you start ogling him.”

Landry stood and pulled Tilly into his arms for a long, deep kiss. “I’m sorry, love. I was in here getting my coffee. Forgive me?”

She looked stunned by his kiss. “Uh huh.”

He smiled at her and gently chucked her on the chin. “I’ll go put on something less revealing.”

He walked out of the kitchen, chuckling all the way to the bedroom.

Behind him, he heard Loren say, “Jesus Christ, Tilly, the guy is fucking haaawwwt!”

“Will you shut up!”

He closed the bedroom door before he burst out laughing. It appeared he’d won the hardest battle—charming Tilly’s protective best friend.

When he emerged a few minutes later, dressed in jeans and a button-up shirt, he also realized Loren must have seen the red claw marks Tilly’s short but lethal nails had left on the back of his shoulders.

He only hoped those marks lasted until after he picked Cris up. What a mindfuck that would be.

Tilly now had her coffee and looked a little more composed. When Landry returned to the kitchen, she stood. “I’ll get dressed so we can go.”

“Can I have a kiss?”

She rolled her eyes, but she smiled and leaned in for another kiss. Before she pulled away, she nipped his lower lip. “Behave,” she warned him before heading to the bedroom.

He laughed as he watched her leave.

“She’ll be a handful,” Loren warned him from her seat at the table.

He turned to her. “I know. That’s what I’m hoping.”

“This is none of my business. Wait, fuck that, it is my business. She’s my best friend. What the hell will happen with Cris?”

He shrugged and took another sip of coffee. “That’s up to Cris. He’ll sleep in the guest room.

Or on the floor or in the garage if I tell him to. Maybe the backyard, if he does anything to piss her off.

If he doesn’t like it, he knows where the front door is.”

Loren studied him for a moment. “She didn’t exaggerate,” she finally said. “You really are out for blood.” Her expression hardened. “You fucking hurt her, I’ll kill you myself.”

He moved to the table and sat across from her. “Loren,” he softly said, “I’m going to tell you something with the full expectation that you’ll probably repeat it to her. Tilly is very special. Only a moron could miss that. I am many things, but I am not a moron. I already told her this morning that if she does try to leave at the end of our arrangement I will be lobbying very strongly for her to stay.”

She stared at him for a moment before speaking. “And not because of the money.”

He shook his head. “Not because of the money. I also refuse to make the same mistake Cris made and walk out on her.”

Her face hardened. “I want to fucking strangle that asshole.”

He grinned. “I’m sure that could be arranged. As long as we get Tilly out of the house first so she doesn’t stop you.”

Loren laughed. “She wasn’t kidding that you’re a sadist, was she?”

“No, she wasn’t.”

She leaned in and dropped her voice. “This is between you and me. Are you falling in love with her?”

He didn’t care if she told Tilly or not. He nodded. “I believe I am, yes.”

“So when I ask you today if you’ll love, honor, and cherish her, you’ll mean it, right?”

“With every breath in my body.”

The women made it out the door a little after eight-thirty. They’d have breakfast on the way to get their nails done. Tilly took her dress with her and would ride to the club with Loren and Ross.

Landry wouldn’t see her again until at the club that evening.

He’d prepared a little surprise for Tilly and hired a limo to drive him and Cris to the club and then bring the three of them home. There they would begin Cris’ torture in earnest.

Tilly had told him he could unpack his things in her bedroom, and had already shuffled a few drawers around to make room. He was surprised to discover she didn’t seem to own a lot of clothes.

There were two distinct personalities in this way as well, what was obviously “Tilly’s” wardrobe and what belonged to “Mistress Cardinal.” Tilly was fond of baggy jeans and shorts, and oversized, comfortable shirts that hid her shape. She owned a few slacks and casual dresses, and a black multi-purpose formal dress, but not very many clothes, truth be told. Mistress Cardinal owned several corsets and fetish dresses, stiletto heeled boots and shoes, but again not very much. There was still a comfortable amount of empty space in her closet when he moved clothes around and pushed them closer to make room for his things.

She’s not a clothes horse, that’s for sure.

After unpacking the clothes he had with him, he wandered the house. She’d given him a cursory tour earlier, but now he had time to explore on his own before retrieving Cris. She loved books. The walls of one room, her office he guessed because of the desk and laptop, were lined floor-to-ceiling with books. She had a small room, probably originally a den, containing exercise equipment. Another room was obviously a dungeon playroom for her clients. And a guest bedroom. With a split floor plan, the master bedroom was situated at the far end of the house from the other rooms, on the other side of the living room. The playroom lay at the opposite end of the house, the last room in the hall. Then the guest room, office, with the exercise room closest to the kitchen and living room areas.

He’d have to see how far sound carried. It wouldn’t do if Cris couldn’t lay in bed and hear him fucking her brains out.

He might have to make Cris sleep on the living room floor just so he could get the full effect.

After making himself some breakfast, he picked up the keys Tilly had left for him on the counter. He studied them. His keys from California, their cars, office, and house, were on the dresser at the hotel.

He’d have to send Cris back to coordinate the move. The office wasn’t an issue because he could telecommute. Eventually he’d open another office out here, once he knew how his treatments would go.

He felt a little guilty over not revealing his cancer to Cris sooner, but only a little.

He’d learn about it soon enough.

Landry arrived at the hotel fifteen minutes early and found Cris ready to leave as instructed.

When he walked into the room he immediately unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it on the bed. “I want my light blue shirt,” he instructed as he walked to the bathroom to use the toilet.

In the mirror over the vanity counter, he saw Cris staring at his shoulders, at the claw marks still visible. Tilly hadn’t broken the skin but she’d dug in hard, raking her nails along his shoulders in a delicious way even he could enjoy. He smiled at him in the mirror as Cris stood there holding the shirt he’d just discarded, a stunned look on his face. “Is there a problem, slave?”

He shook his head. “No, Master. No problem.”

Slave stared after his Master when he closed the bathroom door. His heart raced in his chest. He knew damn well what Master had been up to. Master wanted him to see those marks on his shoulders.

Who the fuck had he been with?

Jealousy raged within him, forcing him to take a deep breath to remain in control and not confront Landry. When the revelation of where he must have been hit him, it startled him out of his reverie and he remembered he was supposed to be getting Master’s other shirt. As he hurried to do it, he tried to talk the idea out of his head.

Not Tilly. He wouldn’t do that to her.

She wouldn’t do that with him. Not his Tilly.

He squeezed his eyes closed and took a deep breath. She wasn’t his anymore. Not since the day he walked away from her and released her.

Then again, he never dreamed she’d become a pro Domme either.

His Master was a sadist. Slave knew damn well how upset Master felt over what had happened, but this…

No.

He refused to jump to conclusions.

When Master returned, slave had the shirt ready and the other put away, their luggage sitting on the floor by the door, waiting.

Master stared at him, one corner of his mouth quirked in an amused smile as he buttoned his shirt. “What’s wrong, slave?”

“Nothing, Master.”

“What were you staring at when I walked to the bathroom?”

Cat and mouse. It only confirmed slave’s suspicions. “The marks on your shoulders, Master,” he quietly replied. It wouldn’t do any good to lie or say “nothing,” because he knew his Master would draw the game out until he admitted seeing the marks.

He grinned. “Ah, those.” Master offered no other explanation, but slave knew damn well from his Master’s pleased grin that’s exactly what he’d planned. A show for his benefit and for Master’s amusement.

The slave loaded their luggage in the car. Before he could ask if Master wanted him to drive, Landry slid behind the wheel and started the car.

The slave climbed into the passenger seat and buckled up.

“Did you eat breakfast, slave?”

“Yes, Master. They had a continental breakfast.”

“Good.” He slipped on his sunglasses before turning to him. “Here are the ground rules for today: you do not speak unless I tell you to. Understand?”

He nodded, hoping that was safe.

“Good.” He backed out of the parking space and headed south on U.S. 41. The slave’s heart tripped in his chest as he recognized the route they took. The same route as the other day.

He felt the fluorite pendant digging into his hip through his jeans, where he carried it in his right front pocket.

When they pulled into Tilly’s driveway, Landry got out and slave scrambled to follow. He didn’t fail to notice Master pulled out a set of keys and unlocked the front door.

“Bring the luggage,” he ordered as he walked in.

As if he owned the place.

With a deep cold settling inside his heart, slave complied. He wasn’t allowed to speak. That meant no asking any of the thousands of questions racing through his brain.

Master stood by the counter and laid his keys there in a familiar manner. “I’ll show you where to put your things.” He walked down a hallway and slave followed him to a guest room. “This is your room from now on,” Master said as he stood inside the doorway. “You will put your things in here. This door is never to be closed unless I tell you to close it. Understand?”

He nodded.

“I’ll show you where to put my things.”

On numb feet he followed Master. Tilly didn’t appear to be home. Master walked into the master bedroom and opened several drawers in a large dresser. A few of his things, the clothes slave knew he’d taken with him, already lay there neatly folded. “You can put my things there, and in the closet.” He walked over to a large walk-in closet and flipped on the light. “There.” He pointed.

He led him back through the house to the garage. “Laundry is in there. That will be one of your jobs, of course. Not just for us, but for her as well.” He led him down the hallway again, to what looked like an office. “Set up my laptop in here, on that desk. I’ll be getting another desk and we’ll rearrange later.”

He left that room, down one more door. The slave needed no explanations for this room’s use.

“You might be spending a lot of time in here if you don’t behave yourself,” Master teased. “Or even if you do.” He turned on him, his face hardening. “You have two choices, and only two: stay, or leave. If you stay, you stay under my terms. There will be no negotiations, no safe words, no equality. You gave up all rights to that by your actions. Do you understand me?”

The slave nodded.

“Good.” Master headed back to the kitchen, slave on his heels. “Sit.” He pointed at the table.

The slave sat.

A legal pad lay in front of Master’s chair. He’d started a list on it. He sat and added to it. “You will coordinate moving our things from California. We’ll need a large enough storage unit close to the house to put our things. Next week you’ll fly back home, arrange the move and a car transporter, and handle any issues at work that need personal attention.” He made a few more notes. “I will handle transferring the bank accounts. If they need personal signatures, you can do that while you’re out there.”

He looked up at slave. “We are living here for the foreseeable future. Make sure when you pack that you clearly label cartons so we can easily find things we’ll need here, versus things that have to go to storage. I will not be able to help you unpack, so keep that in mind.”

The slave had thought nothing could break through his stunned fog, except that cryptic comment. He desperately wanted to ask what he meant by it and forced himself to remain silent.

After a few more minutes, Master sat back, stared at his list, then turned the legal pad around and shoved it across the table. “Read through that. If anything needs clarification, you may ask about that and nothing else.”

He tried to focus on the words and not his emotions. After three read-throughs, he nodded.

Master had been crystal-clear. No explanations needed. He looked up at Master and waited.

Master’s green eyes bored into his. “My cancer’s back,” he said.

Well, he’d been wrong thinking he’d hit bottom. The three words echoed through his brain, seizing his heart in a hard, cold grip.

Master continued, “I have a biopsy scheduled for Wednesday.”

The slave hated that he felt the tears in his eyes. He closed them and swallowed, trying to control himself, not wanting to break down.

“The only reason I’m telling you now is because I wanted to be the one to tell you and I know you’ll probably hear about it later tonight.” He stared at slave for a moment. “You may speak.”

The slave looked at him. “I love you,” he whispered. “Please don’t make me leave. Please let me stay with you and be with you for this.”

For the first time, he saw his Master’s expression soften. “I’m not going to make you leave.

Well, I mean leave our relationship. You have to be the one to go to California to handle the move because I’ll be going through treatments. Tilly will be here for me while you’re gone. The Realtor said he has an offer on the house. You will, however, go through your own hell before you come out on the other side. If you choose to leave, that will be your decision to make, not mine.” Master looked at him for a long time before speaking again. “I do love you, Cris, but I’m human. You know how I am.

Before I can move forward, I need my pound of flesh out of you for this. It’s the only way my healing and hers can begin.”

The slave nodded but didn’t speak.

“I feel guilty for what we’ve had for the past few years. I thought I had my angel back. Then to find out what you did to her…” He looked away for a moment, composing himself before returning his attention to slave. “She went through hell because of what you did to her. I can never repay her for that.

I can never give her back the peace of mind she lost when you betrayed her. You didn’t just take her happiness. You stole her trust and broke her heart. She deserved better than that from you.”

Master sat back, his hard mask descending again. “We will leave here at six-thirty for our appointment tonight. Wear jeans, black shirt, and your formal collar. You will not speak tonight, no matter what is said to you, unless I give you permission to do so. Understand?”

The slave nodded.

“This is what is going to happen. From Wednesday on, my focus will be on my health and my healing. Tilly and I have an arrangement in place. For the next three years, she will be with me, helping me through this. I’m amply compensating her for it, don’t worry. I am not taking advantage of her. This agreement is between her and myself, and she is looking forward to being able to use her nursing training again. You will obey her and any orders she gives you. You have no say in this whatsoever. I have also changed my will. If I die before the three years are up, she will get everything I have and whether she chooses to give you anything or not is up to her.”

He nodded, still stunned.

“As you can see, I am sleeping in her bed. I suppose you have now put together in your mind where the marks on my shoulders came from.”

He slowly nodded.

Master’s voice dropped almost to a growl. “Do not get in my way in regards to her, Cristo. If you try, you will find yourself out on your ass before you can blink. Any comments?”

He found his voice. “Please don’t hurt her, Master,” he whispered.

Master laughed. “I am not like you,” he said as he sat back. “I don’t go back on my promises.

And I promise I will never hurt her. She, on the other hand, might hurt you in ways you never imagined possible and far more deeply than I ever could.” He glanced at his watch. “Make me lunch. I want a salad with chicken. There are leftovers in the fridge.”

Master started to stand. The slave didn’t bother wondering how Master knew the contents of the fridge. “Master, may I ask you something else, please?”

“Yes.”

He took a deep breath. “How bad is your cancer?”

“We don’t know yet. That’s what the biopsy on Wednesday will determine. Make me lunch then put our things away. I’ll tell you what to do after that.”

Landry headed for the bedroom and took a deep breath. He must be losing touch with his sadistic side. He almost felt sorry for Cris when he dropped that bombshell on him about his cancer. He looked horrified.

He closed his eyes. Wednesday. He would push the envelope until then. From that point on, he would look forward, not back, and resume their previous relationship if Cris hadn’t bailed on him before then.

Whether Tilly could look forward was up to her.

After lunch he went to the office to catch up on email while Cris put their things away. He ignored Cris when he returned to the office after completing that task. Landry knew without looking that Cris stood in the doorway, waiting for his next instructions.

Ten minutes later, he heard a low gasp and turned. Cris knelt in front of a bottom shelf in the corner, not the most convenient place for books because of where it was situated and that a chair blocked easy access to it. His finger trailed along several spines as he examined the titles.

“What is it?” Landry snapped at him.

Cris didn’t look at him. “They’re mine,” he softly said. “I left them all when I…” He finally turned to Landry. “I didn’t take them with me. They were some of my favorites. She kept them. These three shelves here were all my books.”

“Hmph.” Landry returned to his email, but inside he felt a little satisfaction. She couldn’t get rid of his books.

That gave him hope that one day maybe she could forgive Cris and open her heart to him again.

Around two, he loaded Cris in the car. They drove to a nearby Walmart. Cris silently followed him, pushing the cart as Landry found candles and other assorted items he wanted for that night.

Cris didn’t want to contemplate why Landry bought them. He suspected they weren’t for his benefit.

When they returned to the house, Landry ordered him to put the things in the master bedroom, on the bed, then to go get his own shower and shave and wait for him in the living room.

He did as ordered. On his way back to his room, he paused in the living room. In the corner containing a massive entertainment center, he studied her CD and DVD collection. He found ones that had belonged to him, but either put on the highest shelf where she wouldn’t normally reach them, or tucked away low and in the back where it would be inconvenient to store them if they were frequently accessed.

When he returned to his room, he couldn’t help but stop by the office again. As far as he could tell, she’d kept all his books. Ones that had been his alone and not hers were crammed on the inconvenient shelves in the far corner. But books they’d bought together and both enjoyed, she still had those, too.

He wanted to talk to her, to apologize again, hopefully without her trying to take his nuts off in the process. He knew he could never make it up to her, but he wanted her to understand why he’d done what he did.

He couldn’t let Landry die.

Cris tried not to think while he took his shower and dressed. He waited as directed in the living room. A little before six, Landry emerged from the bedroom. Cris’ heart thumped in his chest when he saw the way he was dressed.

The man looked damn good, especially in the tailored suit. Cris wondered when he’d bought it.

“How do I look?” he asked as he turned. “You may answer.”

“Very handsome, Master.” No lie. He wanted to drop to his feet and cling to him, beg him to forgive him and let them move forward. The loneliness he’d felt since the revelation ate at him.

Landry smiled. “Tilly picked out the tie.”

Cris didn’t know if he was expected to reply to that, so he kept his mouth shut.

“I will remind you that, no matter what, you do not speak unless I give you permission to do so.”

Cris nodded.

“Go get the toy bag. I want you to put on your locking wrist cuffs, the black leather ones, not the suspension ones. I want a double-ended clip and the braided leather leash to take with us. Lay out the coil of blue rope on the bed, along with your ankle cuffs and the big ball gag.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder, indicating the master bedroom. “On that bed in there. Do it fast.”

Cris’ heart hammered as he went to comply. When he carried the items into the bedroom, he spotted how Landry had arranged the unlit candles. The fresh flowers had been transferred to vases full of water.

It looked romantic.

He suspected those weren’t for his sake. He had an even stronger feeling that the rope and other accoutrements were.

Promptly at six-thirty, he heard a car in the driveway. The doorbell rang a moment later. He went to answer as Landry walked up behind him. A limo driver stood there. “Mr. LaCroux?”

“Yes,” Landry said. “We’ll be right there.” He grabbed his keys, turned off the lights, and locked the door behind them. Cris carried the leash and clip as ordered.

The driver held the door for them. Landry climbed in first then pointed to one of the side-facing seats. “You, there,” he told Cris.

He complied.

Landry sat back and then patted his pocket. “Wouldn’t want to forget.”

Cris didn’t ask what.

“Remember, no talking tonight.”

Cris nodded.

Landry smiled. “That’s my good boy.”