Innocence Defiled by Lizbeth Dusseau

Author:Lizbeth Dusseau [Dusseau, Lizbeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Erotica
Publisher: Pink Flamingo Publications
Published: 2009-03-03T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

The Night They Fought

“Violet, dear, just because you think it’s morally reprehensible doesn’t mean that it is. You’re going to tell me that fucking whatever Tom, Dick or Harry I push in front of you is better than having a hot scene with another woman?” Lionel stood fuming over her, trying to deliver the message with some patience, but at that moment his was wearing thin.

“It’s just so unnatural,” voice hushed and speaking confidentially, the actress vehemently repeated her protest in hopes of winning over the director.

“I think you’ll find this very natural,” another voice, a female one, whispered in her ear from behind then kissed her lightly on the neck. Violet breathed in. Her pounding heart beat faster still.

Already, Lionel was stepping back despite Violet’s attempt to cling to him for support.

“You can do this, Violet. I know you can. You won’t disappoint me. It’s not in you to disappoint me.” His eyes were shining strangely, encouraging and kind, so very different from the last couple minutes when the two argued over the scene. Since his return from Eastern Europe, the director had been everything to her—from brutal lover to confidante to dictatorial boss. Now a new Lionel she’d only rarely glimpsed presented himself. What was she to think? One minute, he treated her like the light of his life, the next she was easily discarded in favor of a good juicy steak or a game of cards or another woman—one with a better pedigree and a public face he could be seen with.

She preferred her life when she knew she couldn’t trust him. Too often now, she mistook a little manipulative kindness for real affection, and though that always proved dangerous, she repeatedly fell vulnerable to Lionel’s scheming tactics. Times when he plied her with assurances were more frequent now. He called her his best girl, the one he favored, and every time she ate it up like Christmas candy. Just days before, in another placating dismissal of her fears, he’d said: “You’re the only who shares my bed, Violet. That should count for something.”

Right… because the only way you can get off is to call up your sadist, she’d silently retort. While her theory had no explicit proof, this was what she’d observed after several weeks playing the dutiful masochist when Lionel wanted a long night of sex. For Violet, this sudden shift in her sentiments toward the man was quite a departure, but she could no longer sweep her scorn away and pretend the man was sincere. The fancy females who graced his arm at the symphony and on opening nights and for intimate trysts at premiere Hollywood restaurants never gave him what his libido needed. They weren’t about to be bound and beaten, their asses raped and their mouths violently assaulted with angry erections. That was Violet’s job to perform since her sexuality seemed bound for the darker realms in which Lionel Rains preferred to play.

It wasn’t all bad. What she gave him that other women refused kept him close to her and kept her on his mind.

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