“Don’t make light of it. It takes a lot to bare your soul. I should know. Now, take a big breath and tell me what happened and then you’ll be rid of it. And, if you don’t want to, we’ll never speak of it again.”
Feeling my hand warming in his I prepare to risk everything. “It was a Sunday night and a whole bunch of us headed out to the University Bar, it was an 80’s theme night and I wasn’t going to go because I had a 9am lecture but Charlie persuaded me. I was tired and decided to leave early.”
“On your own?”
The intensity of his stare tells me he knows what’s coming. “Yes, on my own. It seemed like a good idea at the time.” I pause, reminded of my foolishness.
“I caught a bus and then walked the rest of the way and had to cross a car park to get to our apartment but, out of nowhere, a car swerved in front of me blocking my way. These three guys got out.” Ayden’s eyes are on stalks.
“Well … they grabbed me and two of them held my arms and the one giving out the orders, he was this broad guy, over six foot. He put his hand over my mouth so I couldn’t scream.” My focus settles on a vacant spot somewhere by the window as my mind replays the horrific scene. Like I always do, I pretend it’s a scene in a film. I turn to him. “He called me Princess and kept making these lurid suggestions about what I secretly wanted to do to him - a real psycho.”
Sensing what’s coming next, Ayden begins stroking my hair as if I’m a forlorn child or a Persian cat. I feel loved.
“He stunk of beer, I could smell it on his breath. I tried to fight but they held onto my arms and I couldn’t break free. I was terrified.”
“I bet.”
“He said he had something for me and that’s when …” I swallow back bile. “That’s when I felt the bottle ...”
Ayden’s hand stills momentarily, then finds its way from my hair to my shoulder; he pulls me into his chest and wraps me in his arms, cocooning me in love. But I’ve not finished. There’s more. It gets worse.
“I thought he was going to kill me. Then a light came on and an old guy came out whistling his dog, taking it for a walk or something, I’m not sure. In the light, I got a good look at the guy’s face; he was enjoying hurting me, I mean really getting off on it.”
“The two guys holding my arms got scared and wanted to release me but he didn’t want to let me go. He pressed his face against mine, dragged his hand across my face and licked my cheek and said … “This isn’t over Princess, we’ll finish this another time.” I remember the words exactly because they were all I could hear for the next month or so.”
“Beth, look at me.” I meet his tender eyes. “It’s all water under the bridge, remember. We’ve both had our share of experiences, good and bad.”
I turn my head and look into his sympathetic face; in the half-light, I see his eyes glossy and kind. That look is more than I could have hoped for, more than I deserve.
“I’ve not told you everything … I need to tell you.”
“I’m listening.” He leans back, giving me the time and the space I need to release myself from my affliction. He rests his hands over mine.
“I … I heard them drive away laughing and managed to pull myself together somehow: dragged myself home …”
“Did the guy with the dog call the police?” His asks, with a sombre expression.
“No, I told him not to, I pretended I was drunk and staggered off.”
“And you didn’t call the police?”
“No, I was too upset, I just wanted to dive into a hot bath … I shouldn’t have left on my own. It was a stupid thing to do.”
“You weren’t to know. Those fuckers should have been arrested or worse.”
“I suppose.” I bury my head in his chest. “When Charlie came back around 1am, she found me in the bath. The water had gone cold and I was death white. She said she thought I was dead: I was the colour of alabaster.” I try to smile. “She put me to bed and sat up all night with me. When I woke in the morning, she was still sitting there wearing last night’s make-up and her 80’s dress.”
“And she called the police?”
“No I wouldn’t let her. I thought I could deal with it my own way, but I was wrong. It took longer to get over it than I expected.”
“So the bastards got away with it?”
“Yes.” I look up and find his eyes. We intensify our connection. “I’m so sorry I lied to you Ayden, but it’s so horrible and just telling you makes me feel soiled.”
His hands wrap my face in warmth. “Never think that Beth, you were very brave.” A whisper of a kiss finds my lips. “I’m proud of you for being so strong. You came through it …”
“No, I didn’t, not really. He took things from me.” He tips his head, inviting me to elaborate. “He took my bag, my phone and my purse, but those things are nothing compared to …”
“Yes …”
“When I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror, my face was smeared with blood, my blood…”
“He cut you!”
“No. He stole … he stole my virginity and licked the blood off my face.”
There is a deafening silence: it rings in my ears and stabs at my heart. He’s lost for words.
“My poor baby.” He wraps me up in his arms so tightly, I can barely breathe; crushing the pain and shame from me until it is too small to feel.
“So, you were a virgin when we met?”
“Not exactly …”
“Yes you were! That doesn’t count baby … you were and that’s final. Don’t explain. Don’t tell me you weren’t. I won’t hear of it.”
My sobs are smothered in his bathrobe. I’m warmed by his body heat. He’s my comfort blanket.
He lifts my chin. “Tell me what Charlie meant when she mentioned the stalking.”
He forgets nothing. “He kept my phone. People were sending me texts, so he knew my name. He even found out where I lived and called me on the communal phone.”
“To say what?” He’s wide eyed and patient.
“To tell me he would kill me if I told anyone, he knew how scared I was.”
“So that’s when you both changed you names and left Cambridge?”
“Yes, and the rest you know.” I take a deep, cleansing breath; relief expels from my lips. I have told him. My secret is revealed and his to do with as he wishes.
He shakes his head from side to side. “You should have told me Beth. I feel terrible, putting you in danger, putting you in the public eye after you’d been hiding for so long.”
“You weren’t to know Ayden, media is your business and you have a high profile. I knew what I was letting myself in for with you.” I brush back my dishevelled hair. “If you want, we can spend some time apart? You know, if you want to think about things … about me.”
He looks horrified. “Are you serious?”
I nod yes.
“Why would you think that? I need to be spending more time with you. Not less. I want to take care of you, I’ve done a poor job of it up to now, but that’s going to be rectified. I can’t let anything happen to you Beth.” He plants his face in front of mine, until there’s only an inch of space between us. “With all my heart baby, I promise to take good care of you. None of that matters.” He kisses me with so much tenderness and longing, I’m swept away.
“We’ve started over, we’re creating our story, one chapter at a time. Our lives didn’t begin ’til the moment we met, so let’s stick to the story of us, ok? Nothing you say will ever make me want you any less than I do right now.”
“I need you to make love to me Ayden. To make me forget.”
I stand before him and push my robe from my shoulders, leaving it to pool on the floor around me like a melted snowman: my body is my most precious gift and I want to give it to him. “Show me how much you want me, please.”
“You don’t want to invite Elizabeth along?” I’m floored by his generosity. He’s willing to forgo his need for dominance for me, to submit, to capitulate without
a fight. How I love this man.
“No. She’s taking the night off.” I smile, feeling bashful as I stand, exposed. It occurs to me, here we are talking about me, and my alter ego, in the third person: what a weird and wonderful relationship we have.
Bare footed and naked I stand before him. There’s something about the way he’s looking at me; I feel treasured, sacrosanct. I’m still feeling a little self-conscious but not as much as I used to, knowing he loves me deeply makes it so much easier.
I reach over to the iPod deck to put on some music, but he takes my hand and kisses it, feeding each finger in turn into his mouth. “No, no music. I’m going to make love to you and I need to hear your body when it speaks to me.” He stands, reversing me gently until I feel bedding against my calves.
“I’ll never grow tired of looking at you Beth, you took my breath away when you appeared on the terrace last night, you were like an angel who’d been heaven sent. You’re beautiful. You move me, can’t you tell?”
He places my right hand on his heart. It’s racing, pumping blood at a rate of knots. He lifts his eyes from my torso and fixes me with the kind of stare that quite literally leaves me weak at the knees. I rock backward a little then try to regain my equilibrium.
“I know it’s wrong but I like to think that I own it, your body belongs to me, every perfect inch of it.” He runs the back of his right hand across my breasts, making my heart flutter, causing my nipples to harden and push outwards.
Slowly, he lowers his head to meet his hands while suckling like a child on each breast in turn. I raise my hands and my fingers disappear in his hair. This is gentle love making, exactly what I need: medicine for the soul. It truly feels as if this is something Ayden needs to do to rescue me: I think I need it too, but I want more.
“Harder,” I utter, feeling an instant serge of pressure as his lips take hold of my erect nipple. I groan and lean into him. His fingers flutter southwards and, with tantalizing strokes, he caresses my thighs with the outside of his hands. A whimper leaves my mouth and my body sways, he catches me with the open palm of his right hand and steadies me.
“You’re on fire Beth,” he states in a half whisper. “Let me chase away your demon.”
“Do it,” I hear myself moaning. “You say you want me to experience everything, with you.” I pause to lick my lips. “I’m ready.” I pull his mouth onto mine. “Please.”
I feel a momentary lapse in his concentration. “Are you sure?”
I wrap my arms around his protective body, pulling him towards me with as much force as I can muster. It’s time for us to face facts: even when I’ve been Elizabeth, he’s been in complete control, and that’s the way I want it. There’s a name for that: he knows it and so do I.
“Ayden, we both know you’ve been topping from the bottom from day one: last night you flicked a switch and there’s no going back.” I take a deep breath, sensing his surprise at my awareness of the role play. “I’m yours, this body is yours. I Belong To You.”
He is visibly moved. “I’ll take such good care of you Beth.” The thumb of his right hand brushes against my cheek.
“I know you will.” I tremble in response to his touch. When it comes again, I lurk slightly as his hands skim my back, pinning me to his chest: my heart beats to his hurried tempo, sending rippling vibrations through my expectant body. Our heartbeats are synchronised, our bodied are attuned: we are one.
His hands descend to the base of my spine and he takes my buttocks in both hands and squeezes and lifts ever so slightly, allowing his fingertips to stroke my moist folds. I call out. “Ah.”
“You’re allowing yourself to feel me Beth, finally....” I see his exultant smile and I reciprocate with a grateful version of the same.
I push back his bathrobe, taking a moment to trace the shape of his collar bone with my fingers. He is a fine specimen, by anyone’s reckoning. “Just looking at you makes me moist all over,” I confess, sharing my most private of thoughts.
“And that’s exactly how I want you, always.” His tongue slips into my mouth and teases me to do the same, before it invades me further with ardent longing. “Do you remember our safe word?”
Our safe word? The one he said he would never need? That safe word?
“Yes, Romeo.” We both smile. It sounds as if I’m addressing him. “Will I need it?”
“No, I’ll make sure you don’t, but it’s good to know you can stop me at any time.” He’s pushing back my hair from my face and planning something, I just know it.
“Then I won’t need it. I trust you to take care of me.” I remember his words. “You think too much of this body to damage it.”
He smiles broadly and rubs his nose against mine. “This is true.”
He leans to the right and opens the drawer by the bed. I know what’s in the drawer and knowing causes a surge of excitement to sear through my body. He’s holding the blindfold in his hands, purposely folding it over his knuckles for me to see.
“Last night, I tried to take away your power of speech, now I will take away your sight. It’ll feel a little strange at first, but give yourself time to adapt. Trust me.”
I lean back, stopping him in his tracks. “You’ve done this before?”
“Yes, but I’ve never wanted to do it as much as I do now.” He projects such sinful sexiness it makes me think I must have done something really good in a previous life to deserve this.
He slides the blindfold over my head but, before covering my eyes, he launches one of his high voltage stares, and that’s the image I take with me as a black shroud envelopes my world.
He’s right, it does feel weird, but with the loss of vision comes the loss of embarrassment. What a revelation. If I can’t see what he’s doing to me, then he can do anything and it’s alright. It becomes all about sensation not humiliation. That’s why last night’s sexual encounter was disastrous for me: I saw too much.
“Are you ready to surrender yourself to me?” He asks with such authority it causes my chest to heave.
This is the man I want, My Mr. P. “Yes, I’m ready.” I gasp, finding it hard to conceal my arousal.
His hand grips my chin softly, keeping me in place. “Yes what?” I feel muscles clenching in my groin.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl.” He locks his lips onto mine and rocks his hips into me; it’s bump and grind again and I give myself to the sensation. I hear him breathing into my ear. “Does this feel good?”
“Yes.” I pant. “I want more.” I have libidinous thoughts and they all begin and end with him.
“Lay back on the bed. I’m going to make love to you.” I shuffle onto the bed and lay modestly down, eyes closed, hands by my sides, knees together.
“I’m going to tie your hands to the bedframe. Give me your hands.” I respond to his persuasive fingers as they lift my hands above my head. Every inch feels like a mile, every second an hour: it’s a big ask.
“I know this is difficult or you, but it’ll be worth it Beth, trust me.” His words comfort me, as he ties my hands to the frame with the soft cord from the drawer. I focus on my breathing and wait.
“It’s time to let me love you Beth.”
I nod with a powerful, sexual awakening as he begins the colonisation of my body …
Tentatively, he outlines my face with a finger and runs his thumb across my mouth, easing it between my parted lips. “Suck me.” I wrap my tongue around his thumb and I swear I can hear a groan somewhere out there in the darkness. He runs his hand up my legs, starting at my shins, ending at my thigh. I picture him looking, coveting: I feel desired.
“I love this body, it’s soft, it’s perfect, it belongs to me.” I picture his face, stunningly gorgeous and serious in his claim. I want to take it in my hands, to smother it in kisses but I can’t. I feel him astride me, holding me fast between strong thighs. Hot palms find their way into my hair, fixing me in place. I’m pinioned beneath him: taken prisoner, without any means of escape.
It’s unsettling, disturbing even. I’m pulling on my restrains, he can’t help but notice.
“Centre yourself Beth.”
I’m trying ... I want to.
“Stay with me.”
My agitation is offset against his unstoppable kisses; the combination of pressure and wetness eases my anxiety and my body responds, rising to meet his.
“That’s it …”
The insatiable nature of his kiss is nothing compared to the hum of his growing arousal; with my eyes covered, each sound he makes is an aural expression of unparalleled adoration. Every muscle in my body responds. Making the most of each, precious second he places his knees, one at a time, between my thighs and spreads me.
“Do you love me Beth?” He asks, surely not needing more assurances? Before I can answer, he asks another question through clenched teeth, breath escaping his mouth in a hiss. “Do you want me Beth?”
I find the words from somewhere. “Yes … yes.”
“Let me take care of you.” I feel his hands pulling up my legs, inspecting what is his and I’m grateful for the blindfold: I am utterly exposed. His fingers pave the way and push into me, dipping into my saturated opening.
“Yes, yes.” I call out abandoning any bashful thoughts, simply rising and falling to the rhythm of his urgent fingers. My swollen clitoris cries out for his thumb. “I need to come,” I plead. “Please don’t torture me.”
“I won’t. I’m going to lick you until you beg me to stop.” His words are like flames to my core; they ignite my passion and set my internal organs alight.
“Feel me.” I jerk to the sensation of his tongue lapping against my clitoris. No amount of mental preparation could have readied me for this moment. Every thought is centred around that sensorial point of nerve endings. I’m losing all self-control, climbing to the sound of his breathing, reaching the point where I can take no more.
“Stop,” I call out, pulling against my restraints, writhing into his mouth. He pauses and before I can regain my sanity, thrusts his hard cock into me in one long, forceful motion. I visualise him, his arms lifting my thighs, his body wedged against mine and him living inside me. It’s so fucking erotic. I don’t know which way to turn.
Story of Us trilogy 01: TouchStone for Play Page 40
