Matilda Wren

by When Ravens Fall

  Although nothing had ever happened between them when they were together that had caused her to think this, the amount of sheer physical emotion she felt for this boy terrified her.

  At seventeen, the brain is not mature enough to cope with that magnitude of passion. She genuinely believed, what she felt for him would be what destroyed them in the end. So, she had chosen to stop it before it got to that point and in doing so had spent the rest of her life trying to get over him. She had jumped from one serious relationship into another, searching for someone that would give her back the part that he had taken; stolen. One child and a few relationships later, time had still not ameliorated the constant ache that consumed her daily.

  She had never let anyone in fully after him. She had fallen pregnant during her first relationship after they split up. She thought that would make her move on, but it hadn’t.

  She still thought about him constantly. That particular relationship had fallen apart and the second one finished because Rachel wasn’t in love, pure and simple.

  Now the third relationship, her current relationship, was different. She was in some kind of love; the comfortable kind. She had built a family, and convinced herself it was enough this time. Contentment had a lot going for it.

  It wasn’t a perfect relationship and it had been through its fair share of trauma but it had lasted and it was for this reason alone that she pursued it. Even so, he was still there, in the background, in her thoughts, just as frequently.

  Rachel sometimes wondered if it was because they had never had sex. That it was all built up sexual frustration. If they hadn’t refrained, then maybe the intense feelings would have fizzled out, the relationship would have run its course and she would have moved on, then able to give herself completely to another.

  Was it all just about that raw, penetrating desire that is full of enticement, temptation and allure? It had always fascinated her, how a basic emotion could control a whole lifetime; that desire could be dangerous and destructive.

  The physiological power it holds is robust and pungent with domination. It engulfs the environment in which it resides, much like a parasite.

  It hadn’t diminished in strength or presence and there was nothing that could eradicate it; for she had tried. She had tried and tried again, to dispel the feelings that captivated her psyche. She had found love and as much as she was in love and she was, she knew that for certain, she had not, could not, give herself over completely.

  She had always held something back and that something was the part that would always belong to the man that was sitting in the bar waiting for her. He had staked his claim on her all those years ago and his hold was as fervent as it had always been.

  Now he was here; in person. She always imagined what would happen and how it would happen, when she saw him again; for she knew she would. Essex was too small for them not to cross paths at some point.

  The next two hours dragged slowly by and she found herself thinking more and more about Sean. She couldn’t concentrate on anything else and was almost certain she was more of a hindrance than a help for the remainder of her shift.

  Applying the finishing touches to her make-up, Rachel stepped back to get a full view in the mirror. He was still in the bar, waiting for her, had been the whole time. The look he gave her when she walked out of the staff room was full of unspoken sentiment.

  Had he thought about her, just as much as she had thought about him? Had she affected every single one of his relationships, like he had hers? Her head was spinning with questions. It had been so much easier to believe that all this was one sided. That she had not meant to him what he had meant to her.

  Men didn’t form emotional attachments like women did, especially not at seventeen. He had never said those words, ‘I love you’. He had never disagreed with her decision to end things, hadn’t tried to fight for her. Even when she jumped straight into another relationship, he hadn’t expressed any sort of opinion.

  But that look he was giving her right now made everything stand still. Her heart was thumping so loud she thought everybody in the bar would hear it. It was a look that provoked an electrifying sensation way down in the pit of her stomach and she suddenly realised she was physically aching for him.

  He held her gaze as he walked towards her, still looking at her like he was undressing her with his eyes. It was like she could read what he was thinking and her interpretation of his thoughts made her blush. This wasn’t real. This amount of sheer physical wanting could not possibly exist. Could it? Was it not just a whimsical flight of the imagination that Hollywood had projected onto the world? That millions of lovelorn women had bought into because the fantasy was always going to exceed the reality. By the time he had reached her, Rachel’s breathing was somewhat erratic and she could feel herself shaking.

  Her desperate attempt to control her reaction to him failed and he was only too aware of what he was causing. She looked around the bar. Nobody seemed to have been alerted to them. They were inconspicuous to the rest of the world.

  He was standing too close now, just inches away.

  His imperious presence was very quickly eating into the very little composure she held on to. He smelled really good, he looked really good and if he touched her now she knew she would lose control completely.

  “You want to go?” It was more of a request than a question. Its meaning was solicited. He still wanted her.

  Was this fate seeing him again? She didn’t know. What she did know, was that Sean was asking her to leave with him and go somewhere to be alone. No small talk, no flirting, no romanticised build up. He was asking her to be with him.

  It was his way of being honest. Showing her the real him. Not the loud, brash bad boy he made himself out to be.

  She was the only girl he ever showed this side too. She was the only girl he had ever met that he genuinely respected.

  She was the only girl he had ever loved. She made him feel good.

  It was not a feeling that he experienced often and when he did, Rachel generally had something to do with it. Sean was a bad boy, who had done bad things. He knew what he was. He was a pimp and a drug dealer. He was an enforcer and he associated with some very dangerous people.

  He believed it was his destiny. He was living his life just the way he thought he should be. Rachel could never be part of that world. She held too much goodness inside her. She was pure and untouched by the grime and stench that his way of life put on you. He knew she was right, in leaving all those years ago.

  He knew he may have hurt her terribly in some way. He knew that she knew it and that ripped him up inside. She was a good girl. That was what his dad said about her and he was right. She shouldn’t give him the time of day, yet she was here, right in front of him, looking just the same as she did at seventeen.

  Sean could hardly contain the craving he had, to touch her, to feel her body next to him. He had been searching for years for that fix, like an addict, someone to quench that craving; someone to fight against the evil inside him.

  Hundreds of women had crossed his threshold and not one of them had come close to stopping the yearning he had for her. Not one had impacted the desire he held for her.

  There had been so many faceless women. If he came across one of them again, he wouldn’t have known.

  He wouldn’t remember if he had already had sex with them. They had not even entered his orbit. Faceless women, which were there to replace what he had lost. To make him forget for a while at least, with a shimmer of hope that maybe this one, this time, would take her place. But it never happened. The faceless women didn’t help. Only she could stop the ache he felt for her.

  It had been a very long nine years, to constantly think about one person and here he was, laying it all out on the line, praying to some higher being that she would say yes and go with him. He looked into her eyes, as if he could somehow penetrate just what he was feeling into them, so she would know just how much she took of him, when she left. That she took
him completely and the women, the faceless women; some of them had paid the price.

  Some had paid the price emotionally. If their encounter had happened more than once, which was rare, Sean would emotionally abuse them. He would grind them down until they were vulnerable and defenceless and then he would dispose of them and move onto the next. The weak ones just plain annoyed him. There was no empathy with Sean, no compassion.

  He punished the girls because they let him do it. They were needy and requested constant affirmation. They were not Rachel, they didn’t behave like Rachel and they weren’t strong like Rachel. They didn’t know when to walk away.

  They were insignificant.

  Some paid the price physically. Sex was all he was after and it was self gratifying sex at that. Sometimes it was consensual, other times it wasn’t. But it was always rough and commanding and sometimes violent. They were irrelevant faceless women.

  Sean knew he was bad. He believed he was born evil and that was the way it was. He couldn’t change it, it was the hand he had been dealt. He had accepted his fate. He was first aware of it when he was about seven years old. His sister had been given a kitten for her birthday.

  One day, for no reason at all, just because the idea sprung into his mind, he took the kitten out into his dads shed at the bottom of their garden and spent several hours torturing it.

  The more he tortured it, the more he enjoyed it. It had caused a stirring sensation in his groin. The more the kitten squeaked, the more intense the sensation. They were his first intimate feelings. Although at the time he didn’t know what they were. That knowledge came much later.

  It was after Rachel had walked away and the torrent of faceless women that he made his way through did those particular feelings surface again. He enjoyed stripping away their dignity and dehumanising them. He became aroused when they begged him to stop; their pleas goading him on.

  He took pleasure in their pain, like with the kitten.

  Only, women were better than kittens. They begged, which made him feel powerful. He was in control. They would leave when he was done; when he was ready for them to leave. But every now and then, he secretly hoped that one of them, just one of them, would make him feel like she did, like he could be normal and good inside.

  But of course they never did. But then, they were lost faceless women, with no real connections to anywhere or anyone. That is why he chose them to begin with. They wouldn’t tell anyone the things he had done to them because they had no one to tell. Some had been prostitutes, some were crack addicts and some were nice good girls that had fallen prey to Sean Fergus.

  Whatever they were or became, they had never told.

  They had never stopped him. It was only when he was around her, did he question his immoralities and malevolence. He would never intentionally hurt her in any way. He would die protecting her. The faceless women never received the same courtesy. He was so glad that she didn’t know about some of the things he had done over the years.

  He looked at her now. To him, she was his angel. The devil had been living inside of him for so long and right now the other side started fighting back. After what seemed to Sean as an eternity, Rachel nodded. It was all she could do.

  Speaking was not an option.

  Before she knew what was happening, he had led her out of the bistro and into the car park. There was a wintry feel to the air now and Rachel welcomed the chill. It seemed to steady her a little. Sean took a small bunch of keys from his pocket and pressed the button on one of them. The lights of a black BMW bleeped on and he directed her round to the passenger door.

  He leant across her, as if to open the door but instead grabbed hold of her and pushed her up against the car.

  As much as he forcibly held her, he could feel she hadn’t struggled, she hadn’t even gasped when he grabbed her. She just looked at him, waiting to see what he was going to do next. “Do you know how many times I have thought about this? Being this close to you?” His hand moved up into her hair. She could feel his finger, gently tracing the outline of her ear. His thumb brushed along her chin and over her lips.

  Rachel instinctively opened her mouth a little and lightly kissed his thumb. The action was the most natural response she had ever made towards another person.

  There was no forward planning, no thinking. It was like her body was taking over her mind. His lips were so close she could almost feel them. Any second now he would kiss her… she was certain of it, until his hand wavered. He was hesitating. Rachel pulled him even closer to her.

  “Please, don’t stop…” She whispered “Not here” He murmured.

  He slid his hand behind her and opened the door, gently moving her aside so he could open it fully. He smiled at her then and his fingers entwined with hers.

  “Can I take you to mine?”

  * * *

  The house was not what she was expecting. A five-bedroom detached house, on the Essex-Suffolk border; Sudbury was a tiny, archaic market town on the River Stour.

  Rachel had never been to this part of East Anglia before and the sheer sense of tranquillity that lay siege to the rich mosaic landscape enchanted her.

  It was definitely different to the council house he had lived in with his mum, dad and sisters, nine years ago. It was a typical example of Suffolk vernacular architecture, constructed from a timber frame with wattle and daub in-fill. It really was quite stunning, Rachel thought as she stood in the entrance hall. This was so big you could have fit the whole of her flat in it.

  The stone walls were painted a brilliant white, giving an air of vastness to it; a magnificent marble staircase with classical columns faced her and led to the upper floors. The staircase hall was lit by a central dome and the fan-shaped plasterwork matched the wrought iron baluster. The rooms off to either side of the hall each possessed a solid oak door, with black iron handles and, somewhat in contrast to the house, the walls were adorned with various pieces of modern art. Standing a little way away, watching her, he was pleased with her reaction. It looked like he had done well for himself.

  It was certainly true that crime pays. She was impressed and that was what he wanted. She turned to face him.

  They hadn’t spoken for what must have been an hour journey in the car. The tension was rising. Rachel could feel it. Sean could feel it. One of them had to say something soon. Sean could feel the impatience rise inside of him.

  He was trying so hard not to let it show, to not reveal the evilness that lived there. He was totally out of his comfort zone.

  He didn’t know how to respond to the sexual chemistry that was so evident. It wasn’t anything that he had experienced before. All he knew was how to degrade a woman into doing what he wanted. But this was her; Rachel. She was entirely out of his league, yet she had implored him not to stop.

  “Come here.” Finally he spoke; although it was more ordered than requested; silently his infuriation rose. He had not meant that tone.

  Rachel bit her bottom lip.

  “Why am I here Sean? Why have you brought me here?”

  She waved her arms to exaggerate what she meant. “What…?

  You think if you bring me here and show me how well you have done, that I would realise what I could have had and just fall to my knees?”

  “I had you falling to your knees in the car park.” Sean interrupted, walking towards her. “Remember?”

  Rachel smiled then. “Who just made who come to whom?”

  As he reached her, he realised what she had just done.

  He saw the glint in her eye.

  Her hands grabbed his belt; she ferociously pulled him towards her and brushed her lips against his.

  “Sean, don’t ever underestimate me.”

  He looked into her eyes. They told him in no uncertain terms that she was not one of those faceless women who would participate in his demands. He told her to come to him and she had instantly made the opposite happen. God he loved this women.

  He loved the feel of her hands on his belt,
pulling him to her. He loved her soft lips, teasingly tracing his and he loved it when she pressed them onto his, with such ferocity that he could have taken her there and then. But he didn’t.

  He wanted to explore every inch of her. Her tongue slowly wrapped itself around his and her lips moved around his, in perfect motion.

  He hadn’t let himself remember her kiss. It was too painful. He had blocked it out and now, here she was, kissing him. Her hands dug deeper inside his belt. He felt her urgency. He ripped off her coat and she lifted her arms for him to take off her dress. He managed successfully to do this in one swift movement, as she took off his t shirt and undid his belt and jeans.

  Within seconds, they were both standing naked. He ran his hands up her back and over her shoulders. She shuddered at his touch when his fingers slipped inside her.

  He thrust them in and out, making her involuntarily moan.

  She felt as if she was going to explode if he didn’t stop. The sensation was nothing she had experienced before. Her head spun frenziedly and she could feel every part of her body shaking.

  She had experienced orgasms before, but nothing like this, nothing quite so extreme; nothing so fast. As she felt it release from her, she suddenly became aware of him watching her so intently.

  “I never knew I could make someone respond like that.”

  He breathed heavily as he found her mouth with his.

  Sean was as completely taken away as she was. He had never been interested in pleasing the faceless women. It was all about his fulfilment with them. Rachel made him want to kiss and stroke every inch of her, to entirely take her in.

  He lifted her up; instinctively she wrapped her legs around him, still kissing her he walked across the porcelain tiled floor to one of the large oak doors.

  It opened onto a large, round reception room, equally as spectacular as the hall, although in a more lived-in, used, way. A colossal TV screen stood in front of the extensive bay windows and to the right a magnificently crafted Portland stone and black fossil-filled limestone fireplace displayed old and recent photographs, in heavy silver frames.