With My Breath (Lose My Breath #1)

CHAPTER TEN

As I glance out the window, I notice the Bentley leaving plainly constructed streets and reaching nicely paved stone roads. On either side of the road, hundreds of blood-red roses are planted neatly along the luscious green terrain, and I gawk at the panoramic landscaping as we enter the grand neighborhood.

Strikingly, enormous houses of varying shades and designs tower into the cerulean skies as the car climbs the hills. Whitewashed brick, stone, pallid, and stucco homes decorate the lots. Large glass mansions that look like offices glint against the opaque sky, and immense blue pools wow me as I stare out the window.

“Are we going to Casimir Slate’s home,” I ask.

Don replies with a sharp yes, and my heart beats in excitement. What did I do to deserve this? Women like me don’t see mansions this vast in their lifetimes. Yet here I am, only minutes away from having my first glimpse of wealth.

We rocket to the top of the hill, where massive stone walls hide our view. The Words Slate Hall is carved in gold atop the bullion gate between the stone walls as we stop at security. I sit up in my seat, my hands fixing my dress as my eyes stretch out the front window of the car.

Security buzzes us through, and extensive aspen trees cradle us as we drive toward the hidden mansion. The grass flattens under the wind in gorgeous glistening waves, each epee turning fleetingly to reflect the brilliant sunlight. A prestigious stone fountain with crystal clear water pouring out of the mouth of a lion is centered in front of the estate. The water drifting from its mouth slides into the fountain and swims into the small lake on which it sits.

An enormous Victorian estate towers at the top of the hill, gorgeous olive-green vines cling to the home's exterior, and beautiful red roses climb them, crawling up to the top of the estate. Pillars on each end hold up the mansion, and the spirits of the home call out to me through the monumental-style Victorian windows.

The home's architecture is undoubtedly internationally inspired, and the words "beautiful" climb from my mouth as we pull up into the circular stone driveway.

“Indeed, it is. Slate Hall has been in the Slate family for several generations. They order renovations occasionally, but nothing can take away from its historic beauty,”

Don praises as he gets out of the car.

I unbuckle my seatbelt and wait for Don to open my door before leaving. As I leave the car and head for the front door, the house hovers over me. Its presence is ever-so-intimidating, making me feel bijou in such a vast atrium.

My heart clunks as I make it to the large stone double doors. Just as I reach out to grab one of the enormous lion knockers, Don swoops behind me and opens the giant double doors.

A swivel of cool air rushes me, blowing my hair out of place, and the staff greets Don and me upon entrance. I run my eyes across the black-uniformed staff, and one staff member sticks out at me.

“Greta,”

I exhale as I make my way to the older woman.

The redhead maid hugs me, a look of surprise latching to her face from my friendliness. I run my eyes across the entrance of the home. Gold carvings of vintage designs flick along the deep silver-colored panels, and several French chandeliers spew their golden light unto us as the massive entryway devours me.

“How many people are required to manage a place this huge,”

I query, my eyes skating toward the vast stoned imperial stairs.

“A staff of eighty is required, but sixty will do the job just fine,”

Greta answers nonchalantly.

“Shucks,”

I spit out.

The smell of pine and lemon travel through my nose, and the distant sound of a piano playing relaxes me. The inside of the home is vintage, coupled with a modern design. Expensive art decorates the walls, and the ceilings are imbued with designs of ancient historians.

“I will see to it she gets to Mr. Slate,”

Greta says as she inclines Don.

Don ventures off to the left of the entryway, and my hands skim the top of the stone staircase. I tail Greta up the stairs and down one of the halls, my heels sinking into the dark red plush carpet as we pass several large Pivotal doors. Flame light cascades us from the lit candles adjacent to the wall, and I find myself admiring the historian vibe that was left intentionally.

We arrive at the silver double pivotal doors, and I race through my unsteady heartbeat as they open.

“Here you are. Please let me know if you need anything,”

Greta says just before slipping away.

I swallow as I venture into the dark room, the inky walls and black vaulted ceilings devouring me as I look for Casimir. Heat warms me from the inflamed fireplace nearby, and I slide my hands across the soft black spread on the large mahogany Irish-inspired canopy bed.

This is different. I think to myself as my eyes move across the room.

Specs of gold sparkle from the ornately carved panels around the room up to the ceiling, and a cool breeze draws me to an open balcony on the left side.

I step out onto the balcony and allow the cool breeze to blow through my hair as Casimir stands near it, looking over the edge. His eyes are locked on the deep blue waves of the pool below as if he is studying them.

I breathe in his sandalwood scent as my eyes shift across his broad frame. His slim black shirt creases into his abs and biceps, and his fitted black slacks carve his thigh muscles.

“Hi,”

I say softly, obtaining his attention.

Casimir rears around, his concupiscent eyes crossing my body slowly as he drinks dark liquid from the glass in his hand.

I wait as he finishes the drink and the glass clangs against the stone balcony as he sits it down.

I inhale a deep breath as he approaches me, my body trembling with need while I stare into his gorgeous sapphire eyes.

“Mm, you look absolutely delectable,”

He rasps as he snatches my waist within his grip.

My lips move to say something, but they won’t part for some reason. Casimir’s hand sails gently across the side of my face, and my pussy waters the moment his skin touches mine. He searches my eyes while firmly lifting my chin and gently presses his lips against mine in a beautiful kiss. The taste of sweet molasses coats my mouth, and I suck his tongue as he rolls his hips against me, the friction dragging a moan from my throat.

Casimir brings me closer to his body, now suffocating me with his need, and I grind my clit against his thigh as his kisses swallow my moans. A low groan erupts from his throat as his lips move to my neck, and more moans slip from me as he sucks it sensually, his thick hands grabbing my ass as he rolls his hips once more.

Casimir’s dick is hard against my belly, and my legs shake as he moves me to the balcony, my chest now pressed against cold stone as he turns me and bends me over abruptly. And just like that, Casimir’s hands rip through my dress as he runs his teeth down my back.

“Oh, yes,”

I let out as the cool air penetrates my skin, which is quickly replaced by the wetness of his hot tongue and full lips.

I tremble as he slides his fingers down my waist and rips off my panties.

“I have missed being inside your pretty little pussy Jasmine. I must admit I can no longer hold out,”

Casimir rasps.

Once again, I’m vulnerable to Casimir Slate. Vulnerable to his needs, his wants, his desires, and as he slides his fingers into my gushing pussy, deepened moans followed by cries tumble from my lips as I rest my head atop the cold stone.

His thumb massages my pulsating clit, and I buck wildly as his tongue rolls down my back and skims to my ass once again, probing at the tight hole as he fingers my pussy while massaging my clit.

“Casimir, I- I can’t- I can’t take it,”

I whimper as my body rides the rollercoaster.

“Cum for me, baby,”

He demands as his tongue moves from my ass to my clit.

Casimir sucks my clit flatly against his tongue, his fingers diving deeper inside me as his thumb stretches the tight hole of my ass, and I’m screaming. Screaming into the aureate, not giving a damn who hears me.

“Fuuuuck Casimir,”

I cry as I rock at the peak.

He has me there. I’m at the tip and he has me hanging, my body bucking wildly as exasperated moans leave my mouth. His thumb in my ass, mouth on my clit, and fingers in my pussy. Who is this man really?

“Cum, baby… Cum now.”

Casimir’s order permits me to jump off the edge, and I leap. I leap so fucking fast and far that pleasure snaps through me like a bursting volcano. I cum so hard my moans are mere screams, and he sucks all of me up. Every last bit of my slippery cum.

My body trembles against the stone as I lay here limpid, and I can feel his body rising as he gets up from his knees, his stubble rubbing against my bare shoulder as he leans into my ear.

“My turn,”

He rasps as he unzips his pants.

I contract in fear because I don’t know how much more I can take. But I don’t object. I don’t object because I want Casimir. I need Casimir inside of me.

His dick teases my entrance, and my pussy walls contract, sucking him all the way in, my body still convulsing as he pounds me into the stone, his balls smacking against me as my ass bounces off his abs.

“Yes, baby, that’s it. I need to feel you gush all over this cock.”

“OH,”

I cry out as my pussy pulsates to his thrusts.

Casimir rasps, his moans music to my ears as they muffle my weak cries. His balls contract as his dick bobs and weaves in and out of my pussy, his lips charging against my neck, sucking my deep skin vigorously. My head spins, and my moans are now pants as my voice escapes me, the thrusting of his dick rendering me speechless as my clit rubs raw against the stone.

I cum again as he pounds harder and harder, and he growls as my cum soaks his dick, my body bucking as he dives deeper and deeper inside me.

“OH, Casimir,”

I sing as his tongue leaves my neck and glides down my back.

“Fuck you are so fucking sexy. I’m going to explode,”

Casimir rasps, his breathing faint as he hits me with three long, hard thrusts.

I shiver as he releases a load inside me, my vision blurred as my face lay atop the stone balcony. Casimir’s head rests on my back as he drags his pants above his waist and zips them.

I breathe through the adrenaline as he lifts from me, his dress shirt wrapping me as he places it onto my body. My eyes reach Casimir’s as embarrassment weighs me.

“Don’t be diffident. I love it when you give me control. It allows me the opportunity to drive you wild. Now go inside and get changed. You’ll find your gown hanging in my garderobe.”

Before I can object, Casimir turns and vanishes into the blackness of his bedroom.

Driving me wild isn’t the only thing Casimir is doing. I lick my lips, and a tear dribbles from my eye as feelings I’d rather keep locked away free themselves within my heart. Casimir isn’t the only one who may be falling in love.

I enter the room and allow the pomelo hues of the fireplace to guide me through Casimir’s bedroom and to his garderobe. My hand reaches for the light, and two rectangular glass vitrines appear before me. Each of them is filled with expensive watches, rings, and ties.

I wow at the mahogany-lined closet, its many shelves stocked with expensive suits and tuxedos.

“Gown,”

I question while venturing further into the closet, my hands buttoning the black dress shirt as I search for anything feminine tucked between all the masculinity.

“There’s another section. That’s where you will find your gown.”

The gentle voice alarms me, steering my body around to see who it is. A beautiful, slender woman stands before me, her bronze hair illuminated by the dim glow of the closet light.

“You’re Casimir’s sister, Allison Slate,”

I say as she nears me, recognizing her from one of the photos online.

“How do you do?”

Allison extends her hand, and I marvel at her deep blue eyes. They are a couple of shades darker than her brothers but still beautiful the same.

I take her hand and shake it gently while drawing Casimir’s shirt tightly around my body with my other hand. “I must look a mess,” I squeal.

A friendly smile arches Allison’s lips, easing my discomfort. “You look fine. We have all had our share of wild sex on the balcony.”

“Really,”

I ask as Allison advances me.

Casimir’s sister turns partially to look at me, and her eyes venture someplace far as if she is in deep thought. “Not exactly on the balcony, but I’ve had my share of taboo sexual adventures.”

Allison shoots around, and I follow her to another section of the spacious closet. A small metal door opens before us, and we are exposed to numerous fancy dresses and elegant ball gowns.

I step into the closet behind Allison as my eyes shift across all the gowns. “Was I that loud,”

I ask, still concerned with how Allison must see me. “Not quite a good first impression,” I add.

Allison remains silent as she skates her fingers across all the gowns. Various similarly beautiful colors spew out at me, but one gown in particular gains my attention like none of the others. I can tell it captures Allison’s attention just the same: she pauses in front of the extraordinary fabric, its gold essence drowning the closet in an ambient glow.

“My brother has had multiple sexscapades in his lifetime, not caring who sees or hears them,”

Allison begins as she retrieves the ball gown from the hanger.

She turns to look at me, her eyes racing along my frame as if trying to determine if the gown is suitable for me.

I gulp at the uneasiness prancing inside me, my hands gripping the black shirt tighter around my body as I imagine something so elegant on my tiny frame.

“Multiple sexcapades,”

I repeat as Allison moves slowly toward me.

“What did you expect? My brother is a wealthy man who, by the way, is attractive, which is only a bonus.”

I push back the negative thoughts that are desperately trying to free themselves in my head and stand here as Allison holds the gown against my body.

“The gold will look ravishing in contrast to your deep skin tone. Just ravishing.”

I blush at the compliment, but before I can stop myself, my mouth reels words I don’t want to come out. “How many women has Casimir brought here? And does this dress belong to Tianna?”

A laugh tackles from Allison’s lips. One that does not match with her elegance and class. She progresses me and makes her way through the closet and into the bathroom, and I’m right behind her.

Sure enough, the stone fireplace in the bathroom proves odd, but our shadows dance against the mahogany walls as its flames guide us. The bathroom is large—about the size of the entire second floor in my house—and as Allison flips on the light, I bask in its astounding historical beauty.

A black quartz tub, the size of two hot tubs, splays the middle of the floor, and four vanities, all paired with uniquely designed brass mirrors, circle us as Allison leads me to one of the vanities.

I skid across the black quartz floor, silently questioning how much a bathroom this grand must cost. Allison motions for me to sit down, and my knees bend me to the black tufted chair situated in front of the antique mirror. I roll my hands across the black quartz countertop as Allison hangs the gown up nearby before spreading her small hands in my hair.

“I didn’t see you when I arrived,”

I say while waiting for her to get prepared.

“I was in the great room playing the piano.”

The response is brisk as I recall the lovely tune I’d been welcomed to upon entering the vast estate.

“Why the rich red,”

Casimir’s sister asks, her deep blue eyes bleeding into my soul as she leans down and looks at me through the mirror.

I stare at my reflection through the mirror while contemplating my answer. My legal separation had just gone through, and though I told Alex I wanted to work things out with him, primarily because he begged me to, I needed to rediscover myself. But I don’t tell her that.

“Maybe I’m trying to become someone new,”

I say, the words lingering like sour candy atop my tongue.

“Are you not satisfied with the life you have created?”

Allison reaches for heat resistance, and I watch as she sprays it onto my hair and plugs up the flat iron.

“It isn’t so much that I’m not satisfied,”

I begin as she sections my hair with a wide toothcomb. “It’s more so that I have lost myself along the way. Somewhere along this journey, I took a wrong turn, and now I’m trying to find my way,”

I pause, and Allison studies me intensely through the mirror as she takes the flat iron to my head. Do I want to find my way back? Are we ever the same people we were when we first entered adulthood? Do we ever become the people we strive to be as adults, or is it all a facade? A ten-decade dream of what we hoped we would be but never actually become. I don’t want to find my way back, so I choose my following words wisely.

“I need to discover who I’m meant to be in this lifetime. Push myself to reach my limits without anyone or anything holding me back.”

“Like your husband?”

Allison’s reply startles me upright, but the other woman is careful not to burn me with the flat iron. I take my eyes across her slender frame. A cotton white flare-out dress gives way to her long legs as she lingers above me on red platforms, her red lipstick syncing perfectly with the arch in her now parted lips.

I swallow through my embarrassment and force my mouth to move. “We’re legally separated. I guess you can say I chose to stay for the kids.”

I don’t owe Allison an explanation, but I’m falling for Casimir, and if, incidentally, we become more than just whatever we are now, I want to be on good terms with his sister.Allison sits the fancy flat iron on the counter and stares at me as she opens a drawer, her fingers pulling out all sorts of fancy hair bows and pins.

She inhales. I exhale, and our eyes meet yet again through the mirror.

“Becoming a wife and mother can eat away at who we are as women, Jasmine.”

Casimir’s sister looks away as her hands style my hair. “Sure, having children is a wonderful experience. The unconditional love and the ups and downs that come with it, but as a result, our bodies change, and mentally we are never really the same.”

I look inquisitively at Allison. Her body is a godsend, and she seems much too young. Surely, she doesn’t have any kids, but her words flare out with experience, so I must ask. “Do you have children?”

She flicks her eyes at me as a proud look scrolls across her face. “I have two daughters. Amber and Apple.”

Allison whips out her phone and hands it to me. A picture of two adorable blonde girls nearly my son’s age and Allison dressed in blue, standing next to an intriguingly handsome stranger, makes her wallpaper. Her deep blue eyes are filled with joy as she looks at me through the gorgeous photo.

“I used to be happy.”

She says while retrieving her phone and tossing it back in her scarlet clutch beside me. “And then he cheated. He apologized, even begged for my forgiveness, and when I gave it to him, he cheated again and again, and well, now I’m only in the marriage for the children’s sake.”

Allison Slate is no different from me. Yes, she’s wealthy, extremely beautiful, and holds an immense amount of class and style, but she is a woman scorned just like me. Here we are, two sides of the same coin, drafted from different worlds but experiencing the same hurt.

Allison pats the side of my head gently and smiles at her work. She steps back, and I admire the beautifully crafted half-up, half-down curly elegant updo.

“Wow, this looks amazing,”

I breathe while pushing to my feet.

I look back at Allison, who is staring at me with her arms crossed atop her chest.

“Thank you,”

I say, unsure if I should go for a hug.

“Don’t thank me. It was my pleasure and to answer your earlier question.”

The other woman starts as she crosses the bathroom floor. “The gown does not belong to Tianna. In fact, none of the garments in that closet belong to Tianna.”

I breathe a sigh of relief as Allison wisps around to look at me. “They belong to my grandmother. That gold one was handmade for her wedding, and well, she never got to wear it.”

Sorrow fuels me as I see the sadness in Allison’s eyes. “Anyways, Casimir has never brought a woman to our family home. You will be the first and hopefully the only woman he brings here.”

My feet scoot two steps forward, but I pause as a sniffle makes its way down Allison’s throat. “I know what it’s like to accidentally find yourself in an affair, entangled with lust and lost emotions. But hear me when I say Casimir Slate is not the man you want to fall in love with. He has secrets. Dark secrets.”

Allison stops, her eyes meeting mine as the words hang at the tip of her tongue. “We all do. Several generations of wealth don’t come easy, and people who get close to us tend to find themselves hurt. You’re playing a dangerous game with my brother Jasmine. Tread carefully.”

Allison’s warning dances within my soul, but before I can ask more, her lips are moving yet again.

“Casimir has instructed a make-up artist to tend to your makeup for the charity gala tonight. Go ahead and have a shower, and ring when you’re done.”

Allison crosses the floor, retrieves her clutch, and dispatches out the bathroom.

I want to go after her and tell her she’s wrong about her brother. But I don’t. I stand here as my thoughts eat at me. I hardly know Casimir Slate; and for all I know, she could be right about everything she’s saying. Here I am, thinking she and I have a connection, only to be hit with stay away from her brother.

My emotions are all over the place, and as trepidation shimmies through my soul, I unbutton and remove Casimir’s shirt and make my way over to the massive stone shower. The descending sun casts its violet and cerise glow through the stained bathroom window as I walk in and turn it on.

Allison’s warning plays in my mind as the water spews from the several shower heads above. Casimir has secrets, dark secrets. We all do . I reflect on what Ayanna told me earlier today at lunch, how she witnessed the danger in Casimir’s eyes as he whipped Tianna. Being a sadist isn’t Casimir’s only secret, and I’m starting to question what I have gotten myself into.