Me, Cinderella?

by Rose, Aubrey

  “Brynn.”

  “I love you too,” I said, turning my eyes down to my notebook. My heart twisted inside my chest. I had never allowed myself to hope, but Eliot was here and real and not at all a fantasy.

  “Are you reading that out of your notes?”

  “Sure am,” I said, chuckling lightly. “Right under the section on equivalence relations.”

  “Is love an equivalence relation?” Eliot put on his serious lecturer’s voice, and I could not help but laugh.

  “You tell me.”

  “What does it mean to be an equivalence relation?” Eliot asked me, leading me on.

  “It must be symmetric, transitive, and reflexive.”

  “Let’s take the first one. If love has the symmetric property…” His silence hung purposefully, and I swallowed at his meaning.

  “If I love you, then you love me.”

  Eliot’s lips turned up into a sly smile.

  “Not always true, but it is in this case. Carry on. The transitive property.”

  I only had to think for a second to find an example. “If I love you, and you love Satie, then I love Satie.”

  Eliot laughed appreciatively. “And don't you love him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Excellent. Two of three already. And now?”

  “Now…”

  “The reflexive property.”

  I swallowed. My voice was softer than before. There was only one example possible here, and I did not know if I could bring myself to say it until I opened my mouth, turning my head back to the notes.

  "I love myself."

  “Yes?” Eliot took my hands in his; his blood pumped fast through his veins and his skin was hot on mine.

  “Yes,” I said, and for the first time in a long, long time, I really did.

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  “Perfect numbers, like perfect men, are very rare.” - Descartes

  Eliot insisted that Brynn take her time before getting up and about, and while she protested, he could tell that she was glad for the forced rest that day. He made her a hot tomato bisque for lunch and stayed by her side when she napped. Her dreams were fitful, and she woke up with a scream.

  “Where is he?”

  “Who?”

  “The hunter! Where is he? Where is he?” Her eyes were wild.

  “Shh, Brynn, it’s alright. He’s gone, remember?” Eliot smoothed her hair with his hand and kissed her forehead.

  “He’s gone?”

  “Gone far away. You’re safe now.”

  Brynn swallowed water from the glass at her bedside table, her eyes still troubled and distant.

  “Can I do anything?” Eliot asked. Brynn shook her head and lay silent for a moment, her breathing returning to normal.

  “That book,” Brynn said finally. “The one you’re reading. It has an English title.”

  “It’s poetry,” Eliot said. She was so attentive. “It’s one of the first books I was able to read in English.”

  “Will you read me something?”

  Eliot began to object, but thought better of it. He brought the book over to her side and flipped to the last page he had been reading. Self-consciously he began to speak, but as the poem went on his voice fell into a natural speaking rhythm. Brynn closed her eyes to listen.

  “When you are old and grey and full of sleep,

  And nodding by the fire, take down this book,

  And slowly read, and dream of the soft look

  Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

  How many loved your moments of glad grace,

  And loved your beauty with love false or true,

  But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,

  And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

  And bending down beside the glowing bars,

  Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled

  And paced upon the mountains overhead

  And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.”

  “That’s beautiful.” A tear had slipped down Brynn’s cheek, and she wiped it away with her finger. “Thank you.”

  “Anything for you.” He put his hand on hers. “Even a poorly done poetry reading.”

  “Can I ask you for something else, then?” Her voice was thin, tired. Scared, maybe.

  “What is it?”

  “Will you hold me? Here, in bed?”

  A strand of hope wound itself around Eliot’s heart: that he was not doing things entirely wrong this time, that he might do some good or be some good to her, that his guilt might be assuaged. He lay down next to Brynn and she turned into him, pulling herself tight against his chest. His mouth went dry when he felt her soft curves touch him alongside his entire body. His arms encircled her protectively, shielding her from the rest of the world.

  Brief as it was, his kiss against her forehead was meant to be kind, warm. She lifted her head and he tumbled headlong into her gaze. If he had a soul, it was burning now, set aflame by the desire he saw in her eyes.

  “Eliot?” Brynn’s hand was on his chest, her fingers toying insistently with his shirt button. She did not take her eyes away from his.

  Eliot took her hand in his, clasping it chastely. His eyes asked a question and hers answered. Answering her longing, he bent down and seized her lips against his.

  “Oh!” Brynn let out a soft moan as Eliot deepened the kiss, shifting himself toward her on the bed. He waited for her to respond, taking each step slowly, carefully, until she accepted his advances with her sighs, her fingers clutching at his arms tightly, pulling him.

  “Let me know when you want to stop, Brynn.” Eliot’s lips moved against her cheek.

  “I will.”

  “Anytime. Let me know.” Eliot did not want to hurt her, and especially not after what had happened. If he stepped over the line…he shuddered to think of the pain she had suffered through.

  “Eliot. I will.” She leaned forward and kissed him, pulling him into her arms. Giving up any pretense of resistance, he pressed his body to hers. The soft curves under the robe moved against his palms, sending him into such an aroused state that for a moment he forgot to breathe.

  She broke the kiss and his heart began to beat again. He ran his fingers under the edge of her robe at the collar by her neck. Lips pursed, Brynn watched him intently as he moved his hand down along the curve of her breast, his fingertips just grazing the silhouette of her figure. Down, down to the navel, where he hit the line of her panties. He edged alongside the elastic, trailing his fingertips over her skin, and pushed back the heavy velour robe at her hip, exposing her breast and the line of her body.

  “Such wonderful curves…”

  “Eliot,” Brynn said, and he paused, looking back up at her face. There was a kind of curiosity in her face that he could tell was fighting with some doubt. In a blink of her eyelashes, though, she brushed it away.

  “I want you,” Brynn said. Eliot’s heart swelled in his chest and he raised her hand to his lips, kissing her fingers.

  I didn’t know what I was doing, inviting Eliot into bed with me, but once he held me in his arms every misgiving that I had disappeared. His touch possessed me completely, but he went slowly, carefully, so that I was soon vibrating with anticipation. When the robe slipped off of my body, I held my breath. I was not perfect, far from it, but I wanted Eliot to see me entirely, to see every imperfect part of me. The fear of rejection, the doubt that I carried inside of me, made me tense with uncertainty, but I ached for him to take me.

  He touched me tenderly, his fingertips marking their way slowly among my curves.

  “So many beauty marks,” he said, smiling, his fingers pausing at my hip.

  “Moles,” I said, looking down at the place he had paused. “Those there form a constellation.”

  His mouth curved as he recognized the pattern from the night sky.

  “Orion?” he ventured. I nodded.

  “Are there more?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not sure.”

 
; “We’ll have to find them all, then,” he said. He kissed me again, and I forgot all of my doubts, all of my fears. I only wanted him to stay with me forever.

  He kissed me on the neck, his warm breath melting me into nothingness. His lips felt soft and hot against my skin as he moved down to my shoulder, following the line of my collarbone. When he began to move farther down I placed a hand on his arm. He stopped.

  “Wait,” I said. “It’s not fair.”

  “What’s not fair?”

  “I’m completely naked,” I said, blushing as the words came out. It was the first time I had been naked in front of a man, but with Eliot I felt that it was completely right.

  “And?”

  “And you have entirely too many clothes on.”

  “Is that so?” I saw a flash of hesitation in his eyes. “Well. If the lady insists.”

  “I do.”

  He unbuttoned his shirt slowly and pulled it off. My breath caught in a soft gasp. The scar on his face was not the only one he had. His muscled arms and chest were covered in long, jagged white seams that puckered his skin. The longest one reached from his shoulder to his waist in a diagonal bolt over his chest. I reached out to touch it. His eyes tracked mine as they lingered on his skin.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. I did not know what else I could say. He shook his head.

  “All reminders,” he said. I remembered what he had told me in the piano room, back in California.

  “A reminder to be careful,” I whispered.

  He leaned over me and kissed me on the lips.

  “I’ve been careful for long enough, I think.”

  His mouth moved down to my neck, his teeth grazing my shoulder and sending shocks of pleasure running through my nerves. I ached for him as he bent his head down to my breasts. As his tongue slipped over my nipple, I could feel myself growing slick between my legs, wanting him. I had never felt such a rush of desire as when he circled my breast slowly with his tongue and grazed the sensitive tip with his teeth. A scream tore up my throat and stopped there, strangled before it could leave my mouth.

  Eliot felt hard against my leg, and I did not realize what it was until I slid my leg slightly underneath him and he gasped. A newfound sense of power swept through my body as I realized that he was in some small way under my control.

  In retaliation, he sucked on my nipple hard and I gasped as pain and pleasure entwined together. I froze as his fingers slid over my thigh, nearing my virginity, and he sensed my hesitation. His body hung above me and his fingers curled back on themselves quickly as though he’d touched a hot iron.

  “We can stop, Brynn.”

  “No,” I said, the word escaping my lips before I even thought to speak. My desire had taken control of me and I was no longer able to press down on the feelings that had been threatening to escape since the first time I set eyes on him. “Please, no.”

  He hesitated, and I continued softly, embarrassed that the truth should be spoken out loud.

  “I want you… God, Eliot, I want you so badly.”

  His eyes went wide, and I thrilled again at the thought that I could surprise him in that way. He bent his head and kissed me on the shoulder, whispering in my ear.

  “You’re amazing, Brynn.”

  My heart and body both yearned toward the man whose breath warmed my neck, the man whose chest was crisscrossed with the tragic reminders of a love he could never bring back. I could not erase the scars or the memories, but I could help him to look forward, and we could both move on from our pasts.

  Unassuming and quietly confident, Eliot sat up on the side of the bed and pushed down his pants and underwear at the same time. Turning again to a kiss on my shoulder, he let me see him naked for the first time. If there had been a mirror in front of me I’m sure my eyes would have been perfectly circular with awe and curiosity. His member stood erect, so large that I couldn’t see how it would fit into me. Without thinking, I reached out and touched it in wonder. The skin was so soft, smooth, and as my fingers stroked the tip lightly he twitched under my hand. I drew my hand back.

  Eliot must have seen my expression.

  “I told you, slowly,” he said. “Tell me if it hurts.”

  He reached over to the bedside drawer, obscuring the light. When he turned back to me he was sheathed in a condom. His eyes filled with stormy desire and when he placed his hand on my breast my heart pounded against his palm. He kissed me on the nose, his erection grazing my hip. I felt myself twist toward him instinctively.

  “I’ll take my time, Brynn, but if you want me to stop, just say the word.”

  I was frightened in the best kind of way, amazed that he still wanted me now that I was naked and he could see all of me. Amazed that the two of us should be here, together, under the silken drapes of the canopy bed in a castle. The candlelight flickered as a draft whispered through the room. If he’d wanted to make me feel like a princess, he’d done an admirable job of it. Every part of this seemed like a dream.

  He bent his head down again to my chest, this time sliding his hand between my thigh as he suckled my breast. I whimpered as his fingers stroked me on either side of my most sensitive area. A rush of lustful power shot through me in increasing intensity as his fingers moved closer and closer. Each lick of his tongue mirrored the strokes of his hand, and when he finally circled the hard nub of my nipple with his tongue I was ready to explode in ecstasy.

  Eliot stopped his fingers withdrawing abruptly, and an agonized cry rose from my throat.

  “Incredible,” he whispered. I could do nothing but watch in a paralysis of lust as he moved over me, gently sliding between my legs. His fingers found their way to my core again, this time slipping down and inside me as his lips kissed mine in soft insistent motion. The pressure, so intensely shocking, had disappeared, replaced with the slick movement of his fingers testing my depths. He looked at me, and his face was a question I could only answer one way.

  “I want you, Eliot.” I moaned as Eliot shifted himself to slide inside of me. The cold air of winter had been replaced by springtime’s blushing warmth, and my entire being blossomed with heat as he gave me my new womanhood. His lips hovered inches from mine, our breaths mingling between our bodies, and he paused there, at the crux, letting my body adjust itself to the lovely invasion that sent thrills through every single nerve I had.

  The first thrust of his seemed to fill me completely, but but as he moved I could feel myself adjusting, stretching to accommodate his girth. A fiery pain shot through me, replaced almost instantly with a rush of pleasure as he bore his body down to accommodate my most sensitive place.

  “Oh God! Eliot!” My cries caught in my throat as he worked himself deeper inside of me.

  “Brynn?” He paused.

  “Yes,” I said, pulling him tight against me. He couldn’t stop now. In my mind I heard the sharp strains of the Satie building into a climax. The secret part of me that I had kept hidden burst forth in a frenetic desire, and my body arched itself against his.

  We found each other anew as our bodies came together in twin passion. Eliot’s hands caressed me, his lips tearing the breath from mine. He rocked faster and faster, his breath hot against my skin. I found his rhythm and matched it, my body responding despite myself. Normally I lived in my head, but right now my mind was lost in the wild rhythm of our lovemaking, every animal sensation too raw to comprehend on an intellectual level. I moaned passionately as he found an angle that sent my nerves into sharp thrills.

  He thrust deeper and deeper, sending shocks of pleasure coursing through my body with each connection. Inside of me my desire rose in waves that came close to crashing down on me but stopped at the last instant, each wave building on the last in an intense agony of lust. My fingers scrabbled at his back, pulling him deeper inside of me. I wanted more, more.

  Every second stretched into infinities, the flickering light dancing shadows on the walls. His lips caught mine and sucked at my bottom lip as he thrust, and I felt the wave p
ush past the crest and over, the desire surging through my body echoed by his own.

  “Brynn.” He groaned, calling my name. I could feel him pressing to his edge and it sent me over mine as he rocked into me once more.

  Waves of orgasm rocked my body and I clenched my eyes shut, sparks of white passing over my vision even in the darkness as the shudders passed through me. The sparks whirled around, turning from snowflakes into burning embers as the shocks of pleasure rolled over my body and I twisted, writhing under the first man to love me, to make me love him.

  He orgasmed only moments after me, his muscles stiffening above my hips as he spasmed once, again. I did not know what had happened until he moaned, his eyes rolling back in pleasure. His lips pressed against my shoulder hard as he thrust one last time, sending me into another wave of ecstasy. My knees buckled as the shivers continued through my arms and legs, and I crumpled my hands against his chest.

  Eliot’s lips fluttered soft kisses on my cheek, his hands caressing me in compete possession. I gazed up into his face and smiled, tears springing unbidden to my eyes. After pressing another kiss to my lips, he rolled off to one side and rearranged himself, circling his arm around my body and bringing me close to him. My ear pressed to his chest, I could hear his heartbeat sounding quick and hard against his skin. Slowly, carefully, his long fingers stroked my hair.

  “Thank you,” I said. “For bringing me here. For everything.” I tilted my head up to see his face, and his kind eyes gazed back at me.

  “It’s been a pleasure,” Eliot said, his lips pressing briefly onto the tip of my nose. “Everything.”

  “Even the damn cat?”

  “Especially the damn cat. He can stay.”

  I laughed. “I’m glad you’ve changed your mind about him.”

  “I haven’t changed my mind about him. I’ve changed my mind about you.”