Chapter 3: Cement Pond and All
The lobby of Solace was a tomb of quiet luxury, and Annie felt like a wax figure displayed within it. Every inch of her hummed with a foreign sensitivity. The soft linen trousers whispered against her thighs with every slight shift in weight. The pampered skin of her palms felt thin, defenseless. Worst was the persistent, subtle awareness between her legs, a tender and exposed feeling where the rough denim of her old jeans would have offered a familiar, protective friction. Now there was only the glide of expensive fabric and the ghost-memory of steam and lasers.
She saw Levi before he saw her. He came through the glass doors, still on the phone, his suit jacket slung over one shoulder. He looked irritated, his free hand slicing the air in a sharp, dismissive gesture. “…tell them the numbers are non-negotiable. If they can’t see the asset’s intrinsic value beyond the quarterly report, we’re wasting time.” He listened, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on her. They lingered, assessing. Annie felt the inspection like a physical touch. He ended the call. “Monday. Yes.” He pocketed the phone.
“Better,” he said, walking toward her. It wasn’t a question. He reached out and took a strand of her hair, which now felt silky and strange from some unremembered part of the spa process, rubbing it between his fingers. “The calluses are gone.” He took her hand, turning it over to examine her palm. His thumb stroked the newfound softness. The touch, so clinical, made her stomach twist.
“It feels wrong,” she said, the first words she’d uttered in hours in this place.
“It feels civilized,” he corrected, letting her hand drop. “Come on. Josie’s bringing the car around.”
“Josie?”
“My assistant. She’ll get you settled.”
A low-slung, silver sports car idled at the curb. In the driver’s seat was a woman who looked like she’d been carved from polished cocoa and honey. Her hair was a waterfall of dark curls, her features sharp and elegant. She wore large sunglasses and a smile that didn’t reach anywhere near her eyes.
“Annie, this is Josie Kendall. Josie, Carol Ann Miller,” Levi said, opening the passenger door.
“Oh, we’re using full government names. How formal,” Josie said, her voice a smooth, melodic sarcasm. “Hop in, Carol Ann. Or do you prefer Annie? Levi always calls you Annie when he’s… strategizing.”
Annie climbed in, the seat hugging her like a trap. The interior smelled of leather and Josie’s floral perfume. Levi leaned in, his hand on the roof. “I’ve got back-to-back meetings until nine. Josie will show you the apartment, order you anything you need. I’ll see you tonight.” He said it like a command, then shut the door and was gone, striding toward a waiting black sedan.
Josie pulled into traffic with a gentle, powerful surge. “So. The famous farm girl,” she said, glancing over. “You’re shorter than I pictured.”
“And you’re exactly what I pictured,” Annie replied, looking out the window at the blur of steel and glass.
Josie laughed, a bright, tinkling sound that felt rehearsed. “Touché. Levi mentioned you had a mouth on you. I suppose it’s part of the rustic charm.” She navigated the streets with effortless precision. “He’s been planning this for a while, you know. The ‘reclamation project’. He has a whole file on your family’s debts. Knew to the penny when you’d be desperate enough to say yes.”
Annie’s hands tightened in her lap. The softness of her skin was an insult. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because you should know what you’re walking into. He’s not a romantic. He’s a collector. And you…” She glanced at Annie again, a slow, dismissive sweep from head to toe. “You’re a very specific trophy. The one that got away, now boxed and shipped.”
They rode in tense silence the rest of the way, entering a building downtown that seemed to be made entirely of light and reflections. The condominium was on the top floor. The elevator opened directly into it.
It was not a home. It was a showroom. Vast, open, everything in tones of grey, white, and brutalist concrete. Floor-to-ceiling windows presented a dizzying panorama of the city and the distant, hazy suggestion of hills beyond. There were no photographs, no books, no signs of living. Only a massive abstract painting that looked like a smear of mud and blood, and a sleek grand piano that looked untouched.
“Home sweet prison,” Josie murmured, kicking off her heels. “Kitchen’s over there, fully stocked with things that have no calories. Living area. His office is through that door—locked, obviously. Guest wing is down that hall—that’s you. Master suite is opposite. Pool and terrace are through the glass.”
She led Annie on a brisk tour, her bare feet silent on the heated stone floors. Annie’s duffel bag, a pathetic lump of canvas, sat just inside the elevator door where the movers had left it. It looked like a stain on the perfection.
“Does he ever… just live here?” Annie asked, her voice echoing in the vast space.
“Levi lives at the office. This is where he sleeps and fucks. Occasionally he has clients up to impress them with the view.” Josie stopped by the wall of glass, sliding a panel open. The humid, chlorinated air of the rooftop pool wafted in, a stark contrast to the sterile, climate-controlled interior. “I’m going for a soak. Make yourself at home. Or don’t. It’s all the same.”
Josie disappeared down a hallway. Annie stood alone in the silent, gleaming space. She walked to the windows, pressing her hand against the cool glass. She could see for miles. Somewhere out there, beyond the skyline, was her land. It felt like a childhood dream. The acute, aching loneliness was a physical weight.
She found the guest suite. It was a smaller replica of the main living area—bed made with hospital corners, a blank desk, an empty wardrobe. Her boxes were stacked neatly in a corner, still sealed. She didn’t open them. She changed into the only comfortable thing she had—a faded t-shirt and a pair of cotton shorts. The softness of her own body against the familiar fabric was a small relief.
After a while, she wandered back out to the terrace. The pool was a long, narrow blade of turquoise lit from within. The city noise was a distant hum up here. She saw Josie then, through the steamy glass of a small sauna that abutted the pool house. Josie was a silhouette, leaning back, head tilted.
Annie turned to go back inside, feeling like an intruder.
“Don’t run off on my account,” Josie’s voice called out, clear and mocking through the sauna’s vent. The door opened, and a wave of dry, cedar-scented heat rolled out.
Josie stepped into the evening light. She was completely naked. Water beaded on her flawless, toned skin. She didn’t hurry, didn’t cover herself. She stretched, arms overhead, a languid, confident display. “The sauna’s the best part of this whole sterile tomb,” she said, walking to the pool’s edge. “You should try it. Sweat out some of that… pastoral angst.”
Annie froze, her face heating. She’d seen nakedness in locker rooms, in the brutal practicality of animal birth, but this was different. This was a challenge, deliberate and predatory.
“I’m alright,” Annie said, her voice tight.
“Suit yourself.” Josie dove into the pool, a clean, shallow slice that barely made a splash. She surfaced at the far end, slicking her hair back. “God, that’s good. You sure you don’t want in? The water’s perfect.”
“I haven’t unpacked my swimsuit.”
Josie laughed, treading water. A rich, genuine sound this time, full of contempt. “Swimsuit? Look at me, farm girl. Do you see a swimsuit?” She gestured at her own naked body. “No one’s watching. Levi’s not due back for hours. Or are you too much of a lady?”
The words hit their target. Be a lady, her mother had always said, even while teaching her to castrate calves. There were lines. There were modicums of decency to uphold. Annie felt that training like a bridle.
But beneath it, the country girl—the one who’d wrestled hogs and stared down bullish bankers—stirred. This polished city bitch was mocking her on her… on Levi’s territory. The humiliation of the spa, the confusion of the condominium, the raw memory of the workshop, all coalesced into a hot, sharp point in her chest. She was tired of being the butt of the joke. She was tired of feeling cornered.
“A lady?” Annie repeated, her voice low. She held Josie’s gaze across the length of the pool. Without another word, she pulled her t-shirt over her head. She shoved her shorts and underwear down in one motion and stepped out of them. The evening air kissed her newly sensitive skin, raising goosebumps. She felt wildly exposed, the chemical scent of chlorine in her nose, the city’s vast eyes upon her. She walked to the pool’s edge, ignoring the way Josie’s amused smirk faltered for a second, replaced by assessing surprise.
Annie dove in.
The water was a shock, swallowing her whole, muffling the world. She stayed under, swimming the length of the pool beneath the surface, the silence and weight a temporary refuge. She erupted gasping at the far end, facing Josie.
“Happy?” Annie spat, water streaming down her face.
Josie recovered her composure, the smirk returning. “Ecstatic. Now we’re both just naked women in a man’s pool. See? Progress.” She swam closer, a lazy breaststroke. “He’s going to break you, you know. He doesn’t want a wife. He wants a pet. One he can parade when it suits him and put in a kennel when it doesn’t.”
“Why are you still here, then?” Annie shot back. “If you know him so well.”
Josie’s eyes darkened. “Because some of us prefer the gilded kennel to the pasture, Annie. And because I’m useful. I know what he wants before he does. I can give him things you can’t even imagine.”
“Then give them to him. He’s all yours.”
“Oh, he takes what he wants from me,” Josie said, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper. “But he's marrying you. That’s the part you don’t get. The contract, the ring, the legal claim… that’s his ultimate prize. The possession. The fucking deed. And I’m just the woman who helps him manage his assets.”
Before Annie could retort, the seamless glass panel from the living room slid open. Levi stood silhouetted in the light from inside. He’d removed his tie and opened the collar of his shirt. He held a crystal glass of amber liquor. His eyes found them immediately in the pool.
The air changed. Josie’s confrontational energy vanished, replaced by a placid, pleasant mask. “Levi! You’re early. We were just cooling off.”
Levi didn’t answer her. His gaze was fixed on Annie. He walked to the pool’s edge, his steps measured. He knelt, setting his glass down on the stone. “Out,” he said, his voice quiet.
Annie’s heart hammered against her ribs. She looked at Josie, who was already swimming smoothly to the ladder, climbing out with unselfconscious grace, water sheeting off her. She picked up a towel from a stack, wrapped it around herself, and walked inside without a backward glance.
Annie stayed in the water, suddenly aware of every inch of her nakedness under his stare.
“I said out, Annie.” The command brooked no defiance.
She swam to the side and hauled herself up. Water pooled at her feet. She didn’t reach for a towel. She stood before him, shivering, her arms hanging uselessly at her sides. He remained kneeling, his eyes level with her hips.
“Josie gave you the tour?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“And the spa? Everything was done?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” He reached out, his hands settling on her hips. His thumbs stroked the sharp points of her hip bones. “Turn around.”
A fist of ice clenched in her gut. But she turned, presenting her back to him, to the cityscape beyond. She stared at the darkening sky, at the first pinpoint lights coming on in the towers. His hands slid around her, palms flattening against her lower belly, pulling her back until she was caged against his chest. He was still in his work clothes, the fine wool of his trousers dampening where she touched him, the starch of his shirt abrasive against her water-slicked back.
His mouth found the side of her neck, just below her ear. “You feel different,” he murmured against her skin, his voice vibrating through her. “So soft. Everywhere.” One hand stayed splayed on her stomach, holding her firmly in place. The other drifted down, fingers sliding through the wet, bare skin of her mound. She jerked, a sharp inhale caught in her throat.
“Open your legs,” he breathed into her ear.
Trembling, she shifted her feet apart. His fingers explored the hairless, ultrasensitive folds, still plump and tender from the spa’s intimate attentions. A whimper escaped her as he traced a slow, deliberate circle around her clit, which stiffened instantly, a traitorous response to the rough pads of his fingers.
“See how your body answers?” he said, his voice thick with a dark approval. “It knows who owns it now.” He pushed a finger inside her, and she was still loose and slick from the water and from her own involuntary wetness. He fucked her slowly with that one finger, his other hand pinning her to him. “After the workshop, I thought you’d be tighter. More reluctant. But you’re already learning.”
She wanted to deny it, to fight, but her body was betraying her, heating under his touch, a low, shameful throbbing building where his finger moved. He added a second finger, stretching her, scissoring them slightly. The burn was negligible compared to the first time, replaced by a deep, full sensation that made her knees weak. She leaned back against him, her head falling onto his shoulder, her eyes squeezed shut.
“That’s it,” he coaxed, his fingers curling, searching. He found a spot inside her that made her cry out, a sharp, surprised sound that echoed off the water. He rubbed it, relentless, while his thumb pressed hard circles on her clit. Pleasure, sharp and shocking, began to coil in her belly, so different from the pain of before. It was an assault of a different kind, stealing her resistance, rewriting her nerves.
“Please,” she gasped, not knowing what she was asking for.
“Please what?” His teeth grazed her earlobe.
She couldn’t say it. The pleasure was cresting, a wave about to break. He seemed to know. His fingers worked her faster, harder. “Come for me, Annie,” he commanded, his voice guttural. “Come on my hand. Show me what I bought.”
The words should have disgusted her, should have shattered the moment. Instead, they seemed to trip a final wire. The coil snapped. A brutal, convulsing orgasm ripped through her, wringing a choked scream from her throat. Her body seized against his, her cunt clamping rhythmically around his invading fingers. Stars erupted behind her closed eyelids.
She shook with the force of it, utterly undone. Her legs buckled, but his arm around her waist held her upright as the aftershocks trembled through her. He slowly withdrew his fingers, glistening and slick in the terrace lights, and brought them to his mouth. He sucked them clean, his eyes locked on her dazed, humiliated face.
"That's a start," he said, his voice rough. He released her, and she stumbled, catching herself on the cool stone edge of the pool. He stood, unbuttoning his cuffs, rolling his sleeves up his forearms with deliberate motions. He undid his belt, the heavy buckle clinking, then the button and zipper of his trousers. He pushed them down along with his boxer briefs, his cock springing free, already fully erect and thick. It glistened at the tip. He stepped out of the puddle of his clothes, a naked, powerful silhouette against the city’s glow.
"Come here," he commanded, his voice leaving no room for debate.
Annie pushed herself up, her body still humming from the violent climax he’d wrung from her. She walked toward him on unsteady legs, the wet stone chilling her feet. He gestured to the ground before him. "Kneel."
She knelt. The textured concrete bit into her kneecaps. The smell of chlorine and his clean, male scent filled her head. His cock stood at eye level, veined and demanding.
"You've never done this, have you?" he asked, not unkindly, just factually. His hand came to cradle the back of her head, fingers tangling in her damp hair.
She shook her head, unable to speak. Her mouth felt dry.
"I'll teach you. Open your mouth."
She obeyed. He guided himself, the broad, smooth head pressing against her lips. She opened wider, letting him push past her teeth. He stopped, just the tip inside the hot, tight cave of her mouth. "Lick it. Like you're tasting it. Under the head. There."
Her tongue, clumsy and thick, probed beneath the ridge. She tasted salt and skin. A low groan rumbled in his chest."Yes. Now suck. Gently. Just use your lips and tongue." She pursed her lips, creating a soft seal, and drew on him. "Good. Now take more.Slowly. No teeth."
He fed himself further into her mouth. The stretch was strange, the intrusion into her throat triggering a primal panic. Her jaw ached. She concentrated on breathing through her nose, on the feel of his silken skin under her tongue. He started to move, a shallow, gentle fucking of her mouth. "Use your hand on the base," he instructed. "Keep it wet. Move with me."
From her vantage point inside the glass wall, Josie watched. She hadn't gone far. A dark shape in the shadowed living room, leaning against the cool concrete column, a fresh towel wrapped tightly around her body. Her knuckles were white where she gripped the terrycloth.
"Not like that," she whispered into the quiet dark, her breath fogging the glass. "Your rhythm's off. You're going too deep, too fast. You'll choke." She saw Annie's throat work, saw her shoulders tense. "Relax your jaw, you stupid girl. He likes a consistent pace. A steady, deep suck." Her own hand crept from beneath the towel, fingertips trailing down her own flat stomach. "He likes it when you hum. You don't even know that." Her fingers slid lower, finding her own slickness, a mirror to the scene outside. "I could do it right. I know exactly how he likes it."
Annie found a rhythm, a clumsy in-and-out that seemed to satisfy him. He thrust a little deeper, the head nudging the back of her throat. She gagged, pulling back with a wet, choking sound, saliva stringing from her lips to his shaft.
"Shhh, easy," Levi murmured, his hand tightening in her hair, not letting her retreat fully. "Breathe through your nose. Just relax your throat. Try again."
She tried, taking him deep. She forgot to breathe. The oxygen deprivation made her head swim, but the rhythm felt good, a mechanical thing she could focus on. She bobbed her head, working him with her mouth and hand, a frantic, focused energy taking over.
"She's forgetting to breathe," Josie hissed, her own fingers circling her clit in small, tight, furious circles. "She's going to pass out.You idiot. Let me show you." Her other hand clamped over her own mouth, stifling a moan as she watched Levi's hips begin to pump in time with Annie's misguided efforts.
Finally, Annie pulled off with a gasp, strings of spit and pre-cum breaking between her mouth and his cock. She looked up at him, her lips swollen, eyes watering. "I'd rather you just…" she panted, her voice raw. "Just stick it in my hoo-ha. Please. I'm no good at this."
Levi's eyes darkened. The gentle instructor vanished. "You don't get to choose the menu, Annie. You don't make the requests." He jerked her head back by her hair, making her wince. "Beg me. Beg me to fuck your pussy."
She glared up at him, the country girl's defiance flashing through the submissive haze."No."
He smeared the wet head of his cock over her cheek, down to her mouth."Beg."
"No." Her jaw set. She hated the tears that welled in her eyes, the traitorous ache still present between her own legs.
He shrugged, a cold, infuriating gesture. "Then we can stay here all night. Until you learn to swallow me properly."
Annie squeezed her eyes shut. The thought of more gagging, more of this humiliating, choking tutorial, broke her. "You had all the… all the grass on my field removed," she spat, the crude farm metaphor the only protest she had left. "The least you could do is plow it."
A slow, triumphant smile spread across his face. It wasn't kind. "Is that your idea of begging?"
A hot tear escaped, cutting a path through the wetness on her cheek. "Please," she whispered, the word barely audible.
"Please what?"
"Please… fuck me." The words were torn from her, hollow and flat.
"Please fuck my pussy," he corrected, his voice a velvet whip.
She sobbed, a dry, broken sound. "Please fuck my pussy."
That was enough. With a grunt, he hauled her to her feet, turned her, and bent her over the low, wide lip of the pool. Her upper body sprawled on the cold stone, her ass in the air, her face inches from the still, dark water. He spat into his hand, slicked himself once, and positioned his cock at her entrance. He didn't ask if she was ready. He drove into her with one brutal, shearing thrust.
"Jesus," Josie moaned into her own palm, her fingers a blur now. She pressed her forehead against the cool glass, watching Levi's ass clench as he pistoned into Annie. Each thrust slammed Annie's body against the pool edge."Harder. Give it to her. Fuck, yes." Josie's own hips bucked against her hand, her climax cresting as she watched Levi take the farm girl apart. She came silently, violently, biting the flesh of her palm to keep from screaming, her body shuddering against the column.
Levi’s rhythm was punishing, a hard, fast, possessive hammering. Annie cried out with each impact, the sounds muffled by the stone. The pain from the workshop was gone, replaced by a brutal, overwhelming fullness that sparked fresh, involuntary ripples of pleasure deep inside her. It was confusing, agonizing, electrifying. He fucked her like he was trying to erase something, or brand something, his grip on her hips sure to leave fingerprints in the shape of bruises.
"Tell me you're mine," he growled, his breath coming in sharp gusts.
She couldn't speak.
He slapped her ass, a sharp crack that echoed."Say it!"
"I'm yours!" she screamed into the water's surface, the admission ripped from a place she didn't recognize.
With a final, guttural roar, he slammed into her to the hilt and held there. She felt the hot, pulsing flood of his release deep inside her, a claiming of a different sort. He stayed lodged within her for a long moment, his weight heavy on her back, both of them panting, slick with sweat and chlorinated water.
Then he pulled out, leaving her empty and aching. The evidence of his possession dribbled down her inner thigh. He stepped back, retrieving his trousers. He pulled them on, not bothering with underwear. "Josie," he called out, his voice returning to its normal, dispassionate tone. He didn't even look toward the house; he knew.
Josie froze, her hand still tucked beneath the towel. She smoothed her expression. "Yes, Levi?"
"Handle the mess by the pool before you leave for the night." He didn't glance at Annie, prone and trembling over the water. He walked back into the condominium, the glass door sliding shut behind him with a soft, final sigh.
Silence descended, broken only by the hum of the pool filter and Annie's ragged breathing. She didn't move. She couldn't. Her body felt liquefied, used, stamped.
After a minute, the door slid open again. Josie walked out, now dressed in a simple silk slip dress, her hair perfect, her face a mask of cool composure. She held a fresh, fluffy towel. She stopped a few feet from where Annie lay.
"Well," Josie said, her voice crisp in the night air. "That was… educational." She tossed the towel. It landed on Annie's back, a small, insulting kindness. "You should clean yourself up. The terrace gets slippery."
Annie managed to push herself up, clutching the towel to her front. She felt the sticky wetness on her legs. She avoided Josie's eyes.
"You really are a quick study, aren't you?" Josie continued, a mocking lilt in her voice. "From virgin to… whatever that was… in a week. Levi always did appreciate a fast return on his investment." She took a step closer, her perfume cutting through the smell of sex and chlorine. "Just remember, Annie, no matter how many times he fucks you like that, or makes you beg, or marks that pretty skin…" She leaned in, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper. "I'm the one who stays. I'm the one he trusts. You're just the land he needed to acquire. And once the deed is permanently his, well…" She straightened up, a cruel smile playing on her lips. "We'll see how much plowing your field really needs."
She turned and walked back inside, leaving Annie alone by the dark water, shivering under a towel that didn't feel like hers, in a world that had swallowed her whole.