CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I watched her sleep, the slow rise and fall of her chest mesmerizing. Lolita lay beneath the sheets, her body curled slightly, as if seeking comfort in the stillness of the night. Her skin was soft and clean now, the paint and grime from the ritual scrubbed away under my careful hands. I had washed her long hair myself, running my fingers through it, working out the knots, washing away the surface level evidence the Isle's darkness. It had been almost ritualistic in itself—the way I'd cared for her, controlling even that small, intimate moment.
I was unashamed of what I felt for her, of the obsession that had taken root inside me and continued to spread by the day.
It wasn't just desire; it was something far more twisted, far more consuming. Even when we were apart, I couldn't let her out of my sight. The cameras around the estate ensured that I never lost track of her. Whether she was in the gardens, in her room, or wandering the halls, I watched. Ambrose and Verity reported back to me on her every move. The veiled servitor had grown close to my Lolita, a comforting figure in her new life, and I used that to my advantage. Every word, every interaction she had was fed back to me.
It wasn't enough.
It was never fucking enough.
I didn't know how I could be any further inside her, how I could claim more of her than I already had. I was breeding her every chance I got, pushing her body to its limits, exhausting even myself in the process. Yet I couldn't stop. I wouldn't. It was madness. Beautiful, consuming madness.
When we returned from the ceremony, she had been silent, her eyes distant, the events of the night clearly haunting her. I'd helped her scrub the paint from her skin, my hands moving over her body in careful, possessive strokes. In the shower, the heat of the water had been nothing compared to the heat coursing through me as I feasted on her pussy and then cleaned her. I had dried her off, tucked her into bed, and stayed with her until sleep claimed her, watching as the tension melted from her, as if I could control even the way she dreamed.
Now, as she lay sleeping, I felt the same gnawing hunger, the same insatiable need that had plagued me since the first time I laid eyes on her in that resort suite. No matter how much I took, no matter how often I took what I needed, it wasn't enough.
I stood slowly, careful not to disturb her, and left the room, pulling the door closed behind me.
The house was quiet, save for the faint sound of wind rustling outside. Shadows lingered at the edges of the hallway, but they didn't bother me. They belonged to me, just as everything in this place did. I made my way to my office, my mind already working through the things that still needed my attention. The ceremony had been successful, but there were always details to finalize. Lolita's initiation had only just begun, and there were many more steps to ensure she was fully bound to the Isle—and to me.
The women in my family were well into planning our Connubialis Aeternum. Lolita would be joining in on that soon. I sat behind my desk and opened the ledger detailing the night's events. Even now, my mind lingered on her. There were cameras in her room, just as there were in every part of the estate. I could watch her sleep if I wanted to and could monitor her every breath. And I did. Often.
I didn't need to be near her to know where she was, or what she was doing. Ambrose or Verity would tell me if something required my personal attention, but for now, I was content to observe from a distance. My obsession was unrelenting, and I had no desire to temper it. Why would I? She was mine to consume, mine to shape, and I relished every moment of it. I leaned back in my chair, my eyes scanning the ledger. Everything was in place.
I settled back in my chair, my mind still swirling with thoughts of Lolita, the ritual, and everything that was to come.
Just as I was about to lean into the silence and let myself enjoy the weight of the night; my phone buzzed on the desk. Glancing at the screen, I saw my brother's name. With a smirk, I answered. "Emilio."
"I wasn't sure if you'd be done yet," came his voice, low and relaxed.
I chuckled softly, my gaze flicking to the security feed showing Lolita still asleep, her body curled beneath the sheets, peaceful, for now. "She's sleeping."
"I don't blame her," he mused.
"And Esther?" I asked, leaning forward, genuinely curious about his response.
There was a brief pause before he sighed, "She's fine. Giving me the silent treatment."
I couldn't help but laugh at that. My brother and our sister had been dancing around the inevitable for some time now. It was a slow game, but one both my father and I had chosen to let progress naturally.
The outcome was clear—Esther and Emilio were meant to end up together. That was why neither of them had been paired with anyone else. The arrangement was always there, waiting in the background, though neither had formally acknowledged it yet.
"You two will sort it out eventually," I said, my amusement evident.
Emilio grunted in response but didn't push the topic further.
Instead, he dropped the real reason for his call. "Dad says tomorrow is the night."
I paused, processing his words, and for a brief moment, felt a wave of excitement and relief wash over me. Finally. Tomorrow, Lolita would meet the rest of the family. I'd been preparing her, grooming her for this moment for weeks. She was ready—or as ready as she could be.
"Same time as usual for dinner?" I asked my tone calm, though, beneath it, anticipation was stirring.
"Yeah, the usual time," Emilio confirmed, sounding just as steady. We both knew the gravity of tomorrow's dinner, though neither of us showed it outright.
"I'll be there," I replied, already mentally preparing for what was to come.
We chatted a bit more, talking through logistics and final details for tomorrow.
The conversation was easy, and routine, until Emilio brought up something that caught my attention.
"Oh, and you were right," Emilio said, the tone of his voice shifting slightly. "Bishop's got his eye on that girl you took in. Arielle, I think her name is?"
"That's her."
Bishop's interest in Arielle wasn't surprising.
I had already called it, but it wasn't my concern either. She wasn't Lolita. Still, it was amusing to watch the way certain things unfolded around the estate.
"She's doing fine," Emilio added. "Bishop's being patient, for now."
Now it was me who grunted in response, letting the matter drop. Bishop had his own ways, just as I had mine. We wrapped up the conversation, sharing a few final thoughts on tomorrow's plans.
I could feel Emilio's steady resolve, mirroring my own. We both knew what was at stake—Lolita's introduction to the family was more than just formality. It was a step deeper into the life she was now bound to.
"I'll see you tomorrow," I said as we prepared to hang up.
"Tomorrow," Emilio confirmed before the line went dead.
I placed the phone down on my desk, my thoughts returning to Lolita.
Tomorrow will be a turning point. She would meet the family, and from there, there would be no more half-measures. She was already mine, body, and soul, but soon, she would be theirs as well. Leaning back in my chair, I allowed myself a brief moment to savor it. The Isle had been chosen well. Lolita was absolutely perfect, and soon enough, she would understand just how deep her transformation would go.