Chapter 33

Vanessa Vargas

I woke up to pressure on the palm of my hand.

"Good morning, amore mio." He mumbled and I opened my eyes, squinting expecting brightness but I remembered it was his room and he had blackout curtains.

I looked at him.

He was massaging my palm with some sort of oil.

"What's this for?" I whispered.

"For me." He answered, massaging each finger.

"Are you alright?" I asked.

"Are you hurting?" He asked, clearly concerned.

"Just a bit sore but I'm okay, why are you worrying?" I asked, about to sit up but he gently pushed on my chest and laid me back down.

He didn't answer and stared at my hand, moved to massaging my wrist, my forearm.

"Spade are you alright? I'm fine." I told him.

"I know." He whispered.

"What's wrong then?" I frowned.

"I-I don't know. I'm just, I just need you." He mumbled with a tone so small it was hard to hear.

"Can I hug you?" I asked.

He pulled me up gently, pulling me into his lap and I wrapped my arms around his neck, his hands moving up and down my back in a soothing motion.

"What can I do to help you?" I asked, kissing his cheek.

"Just let me touch you, that's all I need." He held onto me with such security.

"Okay. Don't you have work?" I asked.

"I took off." He said and I nodded.

I pulled back, looking at him, cupping his face.

He just stared at me, holding onto my sides, his thumbs caressing my skin.

He reached up and fixed some of the hair that probably was messy and out of place on my hair.

I kissed his chin, the stubble growing in tickling my lips before I kissed his nose, his forehead, his lips even though he didn't prefer pecks.

But he didn't say anything or stop me.

"I love you." I mumbled, studying his eyes.

His pupils dilated, the deep blue making me almost squirm.

He was beautiful, his lips soft, pink, the bottom lip a bit larger than the top, adding a touch of what you may call "pretty" or "feminine" but it was absolutely just beautiful, accentuated with the black ring on the left side.

His nose was defined, it was shaped a bit larger as he was Italian and it does come with the genetics, but still perfectly symmetrical.

His jaw was sharp, could slice women in half with such a characteristic. His Adam's apple defined, it was visible even against the ink covering the space.

His cheekbones were high, a feline like feature I just could obsess over, it looked like he did contour to force them that stand out ish but it wasn't the case.

His eyes were a glimmering shade of blue, maybe in the sun could be comparable to a aquamarine gem, in darker lighting, comparable to blue calcite. His lashes were black and absolutely to die for.

His eyebrows were consistently in place, never too thin or too bushy, they framed his face, bringing the perfection together with a slit in the left eyebrow. Never a hair out of place.

I couldn't believe I got this.

I went from nothing, working so many jobs, fearing of being chased down by him.

To staying in a casino, having the best relationship I've ever had with any human, wearing my dream perfume and having loads of books.

"Lay down on your stomach for me please." He asked and I obeyed, slowly moving off him and laying how he wished me to.

He was at my feet, "I'm going to do these last." His hands ran up the souls of them before having one on each calf.

He massaged them, gentle and soft with his movements.

His hands came up the backs of my thighs, massaging those areas too, my inner thighs, my outer, the backs, the crease between my thighs and ass.

When it came to my back he preformed all sorts of magic making me nauseous from removing all the knots I had.

"Are you alright, Ace?" He asked.

I nodded as he moved to my shoulders, taking time with each arm.

"Lay here, don't get up, you'll be really lightheaded." He said before kissing my hair and leaving.

I had my eyes closed, relaxing, feeling very loose, and so amazing.

♥️♣️♦️♠️

I heard him come back, coming back into his room.

He stood beside where I laid, rubbing my back.

"Thank you for listening. Let me help you up." He said, assisting me, helping me stand, watching my movements to make sure I was good after the knots.

"Feeling alright?"

"Yes sir." I nodded.

He grabbed my silk robe off the side table I didn't even know was there.

He opened it for me and I slid into it, he tied it at the waist.

"Sorry I took a long time." He apologized.

"You don't have to be sorry." I frowned.

He smiled softly at me, kissing my forehead before threading his fingers through mine and taking me to the elevator and to my place.

We walked inside and it was spotless.

"Why-when?" I looked at him.

"This morning."

"How early, Spade?"

"Early." He pulled me to the door of my room, opening it, a bouquet on all of my wooden furniture.

Orange tulips on my dresser in a beautiful vase.

Red roses on both night stands, in vases.

My desk with white roses.

My bed was made, it smelled of fresh laundry and all possible clothes I left behind was removed, it was spotless.

"Spade-"

"It's not done." He pulled me into the bathroom where he had a little pedicure thing, like what you see on commercials, for pedicures with the little bubbling feature, bubbles were on the surface with rose petals laying inside the water, a gift bag on my vanity, a smoothie and bagel with extra cream cheese beside it.

I felt bad. So guilty, it was so sweet, I felt my eyes sting of gratitude.

"Hey don't cry." He frowned.

I laughed, a sob coming out at the same time.

"You don't have to do these things. It's so much." I laugh/cried.

He hugged me and kissed my hair.

He pulled me, having me sit on the closed toilet seat, bringing my feet into the water as he handed me the bagel and smoothie.

"When you're done eating, we can talk but I'd prefer you had food in your stomach." He said.

"Did you-"

"I ate, tesoro." He got onto his knees in front of me, adjusting his sweats to stretch right as he did.

He brought one of my feet from the water, grabbing my coconut scrub, using it on my foot and up my calf.

I was starving and I hadn't realized until now.

He washed it off, using the matching soap and a small brush to clean the tops of my feet, the bottom, using the foot stone for my heels, using cuticle cutters for my cuticles even though my toes were already primped and painted from two days ago.

He did this same thing for the other.

I finished my food.

"I'm done." I whispered.

"Good girl, now, can I speak first?" He looked up at me.

I nodded.

"Alright, Vanessa, there's one thing I want to clear up that seems to be a bit cloudy for you. Okay?" He asked, I hummed, drinking my smoothie.

"It's our dynamic. I know you don't need this. I know you're not high maintenance and aren't a gold digger. I know you don't need the things." He pulled both of my feet from the bowl, wrapping them in a towel as he moved the water aside and scooted forward, my feet on his lap.

"That's why I love this. I want to do this. I grew up with the example and the standard. I know what I need from a relationship. I have very high standards. Which for me makes it merely impossible to actually find what I desire in the industry I work in." He said.

"You didn't grow up around real love. It was absolutely conditional for you. Then you had to nurse your mothers ignorance, selfishness, and narcissism to survive. You're independent, I admire that." He began rubbing lotion on my feet, on my calves.

"I'm showing you exactly what you deserve. Exactly what I can give you and exactly what I crave to give you. Performing acts of service along with physical affection is my love language." He rubbed oil on my heels and under my toes before putting aloe, soft socks on my feet.

He came forward, standing on his knees between my legs, his hands on my thighs, rubbing circles on my skin with his thumbs.

"I need you to hear me on this part, okay?" He whispered.

"Yes sir." I whispered as he set my smoothie on the counter.

"I never thought I'd find what I wanted. I thought I was going to die alone buried with my last name and unused money. When I found you, I never thought you'd be who you are, and I never thought you'd stay knowing everything you know."

"Vanessa, I need to do these things. It makes me so happy. It's not a chore. It's not harming me, it's making me happy, providing for my love, making her feel so loved. You said you wanted to start healing. We're partners, it's not just you. The first step is accepting help from the person who loves you the most. Not even help, accepting what you exactly deserve. If I don't buy you flowers on your birthday or when you're sick, you call me out, because you deserve those fucking flowers."

"I need you. I need this. I need to do things for you and touch you. It's my nature. And because I want to, I will. There's no obligation here, I'm so unfathomably in love with you." He looked away, sighing almost frustrated and passionate.

"So infatuated with the concept of you, I love the idea of you, I adore you, your love for books, your hopeless romantic heart. You're mine. 1000% mine. You deserve this, and I deserve this. Do you understand me?" He asked.

I laughed a sob, before actually crying, because he was right. I deserved this. I deserve, love. Unconditional love.

And he gives it to me as I feel it for him.

He kissed my forehead, handing me my smoothie.

"Now, I'll hold you until you don't need it, and I'd like you to read a book to me. Any book. I'd really love to hear your voice." He said so softly.

"Okay." I laughed, wiping my eyes.

He grabbed my chin, pulling my lips to his.

I hummed, grateful for the taste of him, revealing this wasn't a dream.