by Nikki Rae
Elliot shifted his head to look at me as I stared at his thigh, the black pants he wanted me to remove. My gaze found his and I was caught off guard to see he wasn’t about to mock me. He almost looked…concerned. About what though? My discomfort? If I was about to back out? I couldn’t tell.
“What did I say, Fawn?” His words were above a whisper, raspy as if he was trying to hold something back.
I gulped and cleared my throat. “Um…that you aren’t going to hurt me?”
He nodded once. “And?”
“And that…tonight I’m Fawn and you’re Elliot.”
He smiled. “So what are you afraid of?” But he said it like he already knew.
When he worded it like that, I didn’t know how to answer. But the alcohol—or maybe the fact that just for tonight, we were human—made me brave. Forced my mouth to form the words as if he had summoned them from me.
“I just…don’t want to be forced,” was what I managed to say, tears threatening to form behind my eyes.
Elliot ran a hand through my hair. “Have I forced you thus far?” His tone was gentle; he really wanted to know.
I shook my head, unable to answer out loud and praying that the new rules of the night meant I didn’t have to verbalize anything.
His hand played against my skull, cupping hair around my ear, trailing down my back and then softly resting on my shoulder. “That is not going to change,” he whispered. “When I say something I mean it. Surely you know that by now.”
He was right. Any other man would have already taken what he wanted. That was what I had been expecting this whole time. I’d always thought that if I was unlucky enough to be sold again, it would only be to someone crueler, more ruthless than the last. Yet time and again, Elliot surprised me. He was nothing like I expected. And although I hated to admit it, even if it was only to myself in the dark in the middle of the night, I had somehow been lucky to end up with this man. It could have been far, far worse.
I bit my lip and nodded, steeling myself. I lifted my hands to try again, but he stopped me by holding his own out in my direction. One by one, he secured my fingers around his hands, wordlessly undressing himself, slipping the belt through the loops, unzipping and unbuttoning. When he stood straighter, I followed, hands tightening around him just as he began to gently pry them off.
“You think you’re ready to try now?” he asked.
I wanted to be brave, show him that he didn’t have to coax me and I could be more in control of my fears. I nodded, deciding to soak up as many silent responses as I could while the rules were still changed.
His hands slipped down my arms and guided my fingers to his waist, his palms resting on the backs of my hands as if he was somehow trying to comfort me. “Take your time.”
I stared straight ahead at the task at hand, pants were undone and his dark boxers peeking through. At first I was grateful that he was wearing underwear, but that thought was overtaken by the fact that it was just one more layer he would want me to remove.
I chewed the inside of my cheek, holding back anything that might try to escape and reveal how terrified I was. His voice echoed in my sluggish mind: “That is not going to change…when I say something, I mean it.” These words oddly put me at ease; he wasn’t going to hurt me. He wasn’t going to punish me. I was Fawn and he was Elliot.
The fabric of his pants were soft; they probably cost as much as a car. The buckle of his belt jingled as they slipped off his hips, giving way to the muscles surrounding the trail of fine hair that disappeared beneath the elastic band of his boxers. His hands only lay on top of mine, following my movements and never pushing, never speeding things up. He was letting me do this at my own pace, discover him on my own.
Soon the pants were past his knees, down his shins, and around his ankles. I was so focused on our hands and not looking anywhere else that it wasn’t until he kicked off his shoes to help me finish that I noticed his bare legs. His left leg in particular. It was exactly the same shade of black as his right arm. It encompassed the ankle in vines before it disappeared into the darkness that ran the length of his lower leg and up his thigh, where at the top, just below where his boxer shorts ended, they transformed into intricate black flowers, their lines precise and almost lifelike.
It was hard to look away, but his voice broke me out of the stupor. “Socks.”
He let go of my hands and I did this on my own. When I was finally standing upright again, he was completely naked but for his boxers.
“Well,” he said as he kicked the socks and pants aside. “Am I still scary in just my underwear?” He was grinning again, eyes sparkling. I had thought that after a little time the effects of the absinthe would have worn off, but my mouth didn’t seem to agree.
“That depends on what you’re planning to do in them, Elliot.”
God, alcohol made me way too bold. I would have to remember this the next time I was offered a drink.
He came closer, eyes still glistening but the smile gone. I couldn’t tell if he was angry as he searched me from top to bottom, most likely thinking of his next move. Gradually, he wrapped his arms around my shoulders, guiding me away from the seats.
“I have an idea or two,” he said right before throwing us both into the icy water of the pool.
I didn’t have half a moment to process what he had done, the water shooting up my nose as my feet searched for the bottom.
It was hard not to be reminded of a similar sensation from a lifetime ago. A hand on the back of my neck, holding me under as I struggled for air.
I couldn’t find the bottom and the water was too deep for me to stand. I didn’t know how to swim. I was in the middle of flailing my arms about, trying with everything I had to surface, when I became aware of his strong arms around me again, pushing me to the top until my head was above the water and I was gasping.
He laughed as he held me, wrapping my legs around his waist as if this was the natural thing to do in this situation as he walked towards the shallow end of the pool. When I didn’t respond, when I didn’t stop gasping and shaking, he stopped.
“Fawn,” he said. “What is it?”
I shook my head. “I—I’m fine.”
He walked us up the steps of the pool and back to the safety of the patio. My limbs were locked around him, and no matter how hard I tried to disengage, their stiffness wouldn’t allow it. Instead of taking me back to the seats, he headed towards the grass, into the trees until we were so deep that I could no longer see the pool over his shoulder.
When we finally came to a stop, he said, “You can let go, Fawn. No more water.”
My breathing had slowed a little, but it still took longer than it should have to unwrap my legs, slide to the grass beneath my bare feet, and then unhook my arms from around his neck. Yet his arms stayed around my waist, as if steadying me and making sure I didn’t fall.
“Did I scare you?” he asked, lifting my sopping wet hair from my neck and pushing it behind my shoulders.
Between the adrenaline and my unpredictable state, the words flew from my mouth. “When I was with Master Jäger, I refused to bathe so he wouldn’t touch me.” I swallowed, some part of me fighting to keep this truth secret while the bigger part won. “He filled up a tub with ice and cold water and would hold me under until I couldn’t breathe…over and over again.”
He softly kissed my forehead. “I didn’t know.”
I could only offer a shrug.
Elliot placed one palm right in the middle of my chest, feeling my racing heart for a few moments before he spoke again. “Sens-tu la vitesse de ceci?” Feel how fast that is?
I swallowed and tried to ignore the rapid pounding in my ears as well as where his hand connected to me, separated only by a thin layer of clothing made so much thinner by the pool.
“Yes.” My voice felt like sandpaper as it slipped past my vocal cords.
“Remember this type of fear,” he said in a low voice. “Remember that it is not the same as when
you are with me.”
I wanted to disagree but I couldn’t deny the differences. The fear of drowning was completely different than the fear of not knowing what he would do or how I would react. It was much more different than any fear I’d experienced with my previous Owner. I feared for my life with him. With Elliot, I knew I would be scared, that he could do anything he wanted to me and get away with it, but I knew he wouldn’t kill me. Wouldn’t force me. As much as I wanted to deny that fact, as much as I wanted to reason that it was all an elaborate lie, I couldn’t believe it.
I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do with this information, but I didn’t have a chance to figure it out before he said, “Or what we’re about to do.”
Despite being soaked and smelling of chlorine, it felt as if all the moisture in my body had been sucked out. For the first time since this night began, I wished I was more drunk, more numb.
I blinked up at him and he stared right back, studying my face for something I didn’t want to know.
“Lie down.” His voice was quiet, but it wasn’t a question; no room for negotiation.
So this was it. It would finally be over with and I wouldn’t have to worry about this insignificant thing that made me so desirable to so many. Maybe even after a few times, he would lose interest too. Treat me more like a piece of china reserved for special occasions than a pet he constantly needed by his side to prove its obedience.
I knelt to the ground, the way I had been first taught, palms facing upwards on my knees.
He shook his head. “No, Fawn,” he said, crouching in front of me. He pressed a gentle palm to my shoulder and used his other behind me, leaning me backwards until my legs had to straighten and I was completely flat upon the grass. I didn’t know what to do with my hands, so I dug them into the blades beneath me, the tips of my fingers reaching dirt.
Without standing, he shifted so he was sitting beside me, the water from his long hair dripping onto me before he smoothed it backwards. I stared at the glass above us, the stars a spray of dust in the black night sky. At least I would have something pretty to look at while this whole thing happened.
“Still afraid?” he asked.
I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, unable to look at anything while I formulated an answer. I wasn’t sure if he meant about the pool or lying here now, wet and nearly exposed, waiting for exactly what he was about to do.
“Y—yes,” I said.
He was leaning over me, staring curiously, like I was some alien being he had never seen before. “Is it the same fear or a different one?”
I had to clear my throat. “I…I think it’s a bit different.”
“Is it preferable to the one you felt before?”
My eyes shifted to one of the trees above me, its branches heavy with white flowers. “I’m not sure how one fear could be preferable to another, Elliot.”
He cupped the side of my face and guided it so I was looking at him. “Before, you weren’t aware of what was happening. You weren’t expecting it, yes?”
He didn’t wait for an answer.
“That fear comes from shock. This fear,” he said, placing a hand over my still racing heart, “is from what you’ve been conditioned to believe.”
It made sense when it was simplified this way, yet I still couldn’t say I’d prefer one or the other.
“Does it always have to start with fear?” My voice was quiet, like I hadn’t fully decided to ask before the question was swimming before us.
His hand smoothed up my neck to my face, but he didn’t turn me towards him. “No, Fawn,” he said. “Not with me.”
I swallowed, mouth dry and the stale taste of black jelly beans at the back of my throat. “You don’t want me to be afraid?” I found that hard to believe.
Elliot came closer, but he still didn’t make me look at him. “No,” he said, ruining what little comfort the word held by adding, “not now.”
I was chewing on my lip—had been the entire time—and he gently tugged on my chin to release it from my teeth. I was freezing in my soaked clothes, my wet hair. I wore no undergarments and I hoped the appearance of my raised nipples wasn’t taken as arousal.
He leaned even closer this time. “If you’re brave,” he whispered, so close to me, heating my skin and making my knees shake, “I will tell you about the Vulture.”
Now I stared at him and his eyes bored right into mine, a tick of a grin at the corner of his mouth.
“What if I don’t want to do anything, Elliot?”
He studied me a moment. “Then we won’t.”
I could wait—if I really, really wanted to avoid this situation—for a riding lesson or more books. But the Vulture. In addition to my other payments, I didn’t think it would be so easy to turn away now.
After a while, he said, “Would you like to stop?”
I could have been given all the time in the world and I still wouldn’t have been able to make a decision that didn’t damage my chances of escape in some way. In the end, I chose what made my chances greater.
“I—I’d like to continue, si—Elliot.”
He laughed at my inability to remember to address him in the way he’d asked. “Good,” he whispered, coming closer again. His hand was in my hair, gently massaging my scalp. The alcohol in my system made me more receptive to the action and I even closed my eyes to enjoy it. For a while, we didn’t talk. There was just our breathing and the slight sound of his capable fingers slipping through my drenched hair.
“Would it help if you knew what I was about to do?” he whispered. It wasn’t quite in my ear, but it was hard not to shiver at the proximity—it wasn’t unwelcome the way I’d expected it to feel. Somehow, in the back of my mind, I knew this, wanted to deny it, but my mind wouldn’t allow it. I only wanted to feel safe; I only wanted to give in. It was exhausting keeping my guard up all the time, and right now, lowering it just the littlest bit, letting myself enjoy something and not caring if he knew, was all I could think of. I wanted to blame it on the alcohol. I wanted to blame it on the power he had over me. Deep down, it wasn’t these things that wanted Elliot. It was me. Fawn.
His hands moved to my shoulders, the back of my neck, kneading and soothing muscles I hadn’t been aware were aching until now. “First,” he said, “I’m going to kiss you for a while.” His fingers found the back of my head and massaged the place where my neck met my skull. “Your lips, your face, your neck—you seemed to enjoy that last time.”
I did. Right now, I was willing to admit it. I was willing to replay that night and feel what I had felt for that one fluttering moment. I realized now what I enjoyed most about it. Aside from the physical pleasure, for once, my mind was completely silent. No wandering. No planning. Only his mouth on my skin and the rush between my thighs.
“Then,” he said, and I heard him shift so my head was in his lap, “When you’re ready, when you want it the most, I’m going to make you come again. I’ll make it the way it should have been the first time.”
Unconsciously, my knees drew together. A sensation had begun to build there and this was the only way to make it stronger. I knew what he meant. I’d cried the first time, terrified of what he’d done to me and how he’d punish me. He didn’t want that. He didn’t want me to be afraid when it came to these things, and although it didn’t make this situation right, it definitely made it better. Again, I imagined him as a boy, being conditioned to scare girls into getting what he wanted. He’d been abused just as much as me, and perhaps this was his way of reconciling that fact.
Truthfully, I didn’t want to shut out these sensations. I wanted to enjoy it all. For him to make it nice for me. Make my mind go blank again. My plans for escape were still there, as always, lingering at the corners of my mind, but the more he spoke, the more his fingers worked my skin, the less prominent these thoughts became, replaced by an overwhelming need for everything he’d promised.
“Any questions, Fawn?” he asked.
Finally, I opened my
eyes to look at him. He was staring down at me, expression relaxed, waiting. I licked my lips. “Um…” I had to take a moment to focus. Thankfully, his fingers stilled so I could better think. “What about…you?”
He smiled, but it told me he knew what I meant. It wouldn’t stop him from toying with me. “What about me, Fawn?” he asked innocently. “Use your words.”
“I meant…” It was hard to think of just how to word it with my brain swimming and my body craving. “You don’t want me to do anything to you, Elliot?” I could feel my face heating up, no doubt red with my embarrassment. Somewhere from the depths of my consciousness, a small voice said, You shouldn’t even be having this conversation. You’re making deals with your captor, but I easily shoved that voice down. There would be plenty of time to feel guilty later. Right now, I wanted to give in.
He laughed. “I suppose that’s good enough.” This time when he moved, his thigh touched my arm as he straightened out a leg, skin to skin. I was disappointed to see it was his bare, untattooed leg. His skin was warmer than I’d expected and I realized it was all of him that was heated, the spot beneath my head the warmest. As I concentrated, I could tell that I wasn’t the only one feeling the effects of his words.
I involuntarily jerked away at the hardness pressed against me, my head no longer in his lap and half-sitting up. His hands stilled me. “I ask for nothing in return, Fawn,” he said gently, but he did not move away; I could still feel him and his erection, this time pressed against my knee. “But I am not immune to you.” His palm cupped my jaw. “I am not going to force myself upon you. I do not want anything from you other than what I already stated.” His eyes seemed as though they could see right through me then. “Do you understand?”
I nodded, only now realizing that my hands had weakened around his wrists. I let go. “Yes,” I whispered.
He slowly set my head on the grass, but other than that, he did not move. “Yes what, Fawn?” he asked. “We need to use our names right now.” He sounded reasonable, like this fact was something everyone should know from a very young age. The thing was, we had always been taught the exact opposite.
