Master of the Game by Sidney Sheldon

“Oh, please,” she said. “Now. Now!”

He mounted her then, and she was plunged into an ecstasy that was almost unbearable. When finally Alexandra lay still in his arms and sighed, “Oh, my darling. I hope it was as wonderful for you,” he lied and said, “It was.”

She held him close and wept, and she did not know why she was weeping, only that she was grateful for the glory and the joy of it.

“There, there,” George said soothingly. “Everything is marvelous.”

And it was.

Eve would have been so proud of him.

 

 

In every love affair, there are misunderstandings, jealousies, small hurts, but not in the romance between George and Alexandra. With Eve’s careful coaching, George was able to play skillfully on Alexandra’s every emotion. George knew Alexandra’s fears, her fantasies, her passions and aversions, and he was always there, ready to give her exactly what she needed. He knew what made her laugh, and what made her cry. Alexandra was thrilled by his lovemaking, but George found it frustrating. When he was in bed with Alexandra, listening to her animal cries, her excitement aroused him to a fever pitch. He wanted to savage her, make her scream for mercy so he could have his own relief. But he knew if he did that he would destroy everything. His frustration kept growing. The more they made love, the more he grew to despise Alexandra.

There were certain places where George Mellis could find satisfaction, but he knew he had to be cautious. Late at night he haunted anonymous singles’ bars and gay discos, and he picked up lonely widows looking for an evening’s comfort, gay boys hungry for love, prostitutes hungry for money. George took them to a series of seedy hotels on the West Side, in the Bowery and in Greenwich Village. He never returned to the same hotel twice, nor would he have been welcomed back. His sexual partners usually were found either unconscious or semiconscious, their bodies battered and sometimes covered with cigarette burns.

George avoided masochists. They enjoyed the pain he inflicted, and that took away his pleasure. No, he had to hear them scream and beg for mercy, as his father had made him scream and beg for mercy when George was a small boy. His punishments for the smallest infractions were beatings that often left him unconscious. When George was eight years old and his father caught him and a neighbor’s son naked together, George’s father beat him until the blood ran from his ears and nose, and to make sure the boy never sinned again, his father pressed a lighted cigar to George’s penis. The scar healed, but the deeper scar inside festered.

George Mellis had the wild, passionate nature of his Hellenic ancestors. He could not bear the thought of being controlled by anyone. He put up with the taunting humiliation Eve Blackwell inflicted upon him only because he needed her. When he had the Blackwell fortune in his hands, he intended to punish her until she begged him to kill her. Meeting Eve was the luckiest thing that had ever happened to him. Lucky for me, George mused. Unlucky for her.

 

 

Alexandra continually marveled at how George always knew just what flowers to send her, what records to buy, what books would please her. When he took her to a museum, he was excited about the same paintings she loved. It was incredible to Alexandra how identical their tastes were. She looked for a single flaw in George Mellis, and she could find none. He was perfect. She grew more and more eager for Kate to meet him.

But George always found an excuse to avoid meeting Kate Blackwell.

“Why, darling? You’ll love her. Besides, I want to show you off.”

“I’m sure she’s wonderful,” George said boyishly. “I’m terrified she’ll think I’m not good enough for you.”

“That’s ridiculous!” His modesty touched her. “Gran will adore you.”

“Soon,” he told Alexandra. “As soon as I get up my courage.”

 

 

He discussed it with Eve one night.

She thought about it. “All right. You’ll have to get it over with sooner or later. But you’ll have to watch yourself every second. She’s a bitch, but she’s a smart bitch. Don’t underestimate her for a second. If she suspects you’re after anything, she’ll cut your heart out and feed it to her dogs.”

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170 171 172 173 174 175 176 177 178 179 180 181 182 183 184 185 186 187 188 189 190 191 192 193 194 195 196 197

Leave a Reply 0

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *