by Aubrey Dark
She let out a breath, and I licked my lips. If she was lying, she was damn good at it. But I had to be sure.
It was time.
“Wait here a moment,” I said. I went to the other room and brought back the dessert I had bought earlier.
“A cupcake!” she exclaimed. “Oh, with raspberries. That’s my favorite!”
“I’m glad,” I said. “It’s soaked in a raspberry brandy coulis. I made that separate.”
“Delicious,” she said, forking a mouthful to her lips. “Thank you.”
“Of course. I wanted tonight to be special.”
I watched her eat, bite by bite. Once she was finished, she took another sip of wine, swallowing. I stood up and put another log into the fire.
“Rien—”
I turned. Her eyes glazed over.
“The real strong have no need to prove it to the phonies,” I said. “That’s Charles Manson. Unfortunately, Sara, I’m not that strong. I need proof.”
“What… what do you…”
“I need to trust you. Wholly. Completely. And there’s only one way I know of to do that.”
“Rien, I don’t—I feel...”
She stood up from the table, her hand reaching out to steady herself. She knocked over the wine glass.
“Rien—” her voice rose in panic.
“Don’t worry, my little psycho,” I said, stepping over to her. She swayed and fell, but I was there to catch her in my arms. “Don’t worry.”
Sara
Rien caught me as my legs buckled. He swept me up into his arms. I remembered him carrying me before. No. He couldn’t have.
“I feel strange,” I said, my tongue thick and mumbling.
“I’ve given you something,” Rien said. He was carrying me back, back to the bedroom. The lights were dim but I could still see his face. It was impassive, relaxed.
“No—”
“It’s a special dose. I hope it wasn’t too sweet.”
The cupcake. Oh, god.
“You drugged me,” I moaned. I tried to twist in his arm, tried to get away. Was he really planning to kill me, just as Gary had said? Why had I trusted him? I hit his chest with my fist, but all my strength was gone. “You drugged me!”
“Fame is a drug. So is money. So is power. My drugs are just more effective, that’s all.”
He set me down on the bed and adjusted my dress. He towered above me and admired me, and fear and loathing mixed inside me with desire. Hazy and uncertain, I reached out and he took my hand. My fingertips buzzed with feeling, but I couldn’t control my muscles.
“Let me put on some music,” he said.
He left my side for a moment. Above, a classical guitar began to play softly.
“What is this?” I murmured. “What… what drug…?”
“Ecstasy, mixed with my own special blend of barbiturates and a bit of fast-acting muscle relaxant. It was in the raspberry coulis.”
“Why?”
“Why the coulis? I thought you didn’t like needles. I was doing you a favor.”
“No. Why?”
I looked at him, trying to focus my eyes on his face. His golden eyes. Predator eyes. Eyes that wanted me. Eyes I wanted to stare into forever.
“Why did I drug you? So you’ll tell the truth,” Rien said simply.
I breathed in. Every breath was an ordeal.
“You don’t trust me.” I don’t know if it was the drugs or not, but this was what made me feel the most disappointed. I’d thought that all of this—the blindfold, the shower, the dinner—was leading up to him trusting me. But no. It had all been a show, a ruse to lure me in. The song playing from the stereo was filled with a longing sorrow. I blinked slowly.
“I don’t trust anyone. Nothing personal, my dear.”
He raised my arms above my head. I pulled against his grip, but he was strong and my muscles were all jelly.
“Rien—”
“Don’t take it as an insult, Sara. I only want to know what you know. And I think I know how to get you to tell me.”
He was tying my wrists. I could feel rope being drawn across my skin. My head lolled up awkwardly and I saw him finishing the knot on my wrists.
“Try to get out,” he said. I pulled my wrists apart, but they wouldn’t move.
“No. No. Rien. Please.”
He moved down to the bottom of the bed. His hand closed around my ankle, and I kicked, or tried to. I might as well have been kicking something underwater. Every part of me felt like it was moving in a dream. He pulled another rope around my ankle and tied it. My entire focus shifted to the pressure of the rope against my skin. He tied the rope to the bedpost and pulled it taut. Then the other foot. When he tightened the rope, my legs pulled apart and I heard the dress tear. I cried out. I was completely held down, vulnerable.
“I won’t hurt you, my beautiful little psycho. You’re too perfect. But if I find out you’ve been lying to me, well, then I might have to kill you.”
I whimpered. What did he want from me? I’d lied, sure. I’d lied about being Susan. But if he needed to know where she was, then he was wasting his time. The ceiling spun above my head. I couldn’t make my muscles obey me.
“Now, we’re going to start with Susan. Tell me what you know.”
“Nothing! I told you everything!”
He reached up to the bedside stand, going out of my vision for a moment. Then he was back. I saw what was in his hand and screamed.
“NO! RIEN, NO! PLEASE!” The scalpel flashed silver in the dim bedroom light. My scream was cut short as his other hand clamped over my mouth. My shrieks burned my lips but I couldn’t break through his hand. A blinding white fear shook me.
“Oh, Sara,” he murmured. “No, no, no, Sara. You have entirely the wrong idea.”
My moan came out muffled against his hand.
“I said that I wouldn’t hurt you. The drugs will only last an hour.”
He looked at me and I could not look back. I sobbed, twisting against the ropes.
“Oh, Sara, Sara. You don’t trust me. How can I trust you if you don’t trust me?”
He leaned forward, raising the scalpel up. I closed my eyes. Even with my eyes clamped shut, I felt like the world was spinning. Would it hurt? Would I feel it at all?
I felt the coldness of the blade running up my leg and his hand loosened over my mouth. God, was he cutting me along my side? I felt faint. Then a pause. I couldn’t take it.
“Please make it quick,” I whispered. “Just make it quick.”
His hand was on my cheek. I opened my eyes to see his face hovering above mine, sympathy in his eyes.
“Sara, believe me. I only want the truth.”
I heard the snip of the scalpel cutting through fabric, and he pulled off my dress. Green and gold, fluttering down to the floor.
“I want you to tell me the truth.”
Another snip. My panties were gone. I whimpered as his hand moved up with the scalpel, but he was only putting it back in the bedstand.
“Can you do that for me? Tell me the truth?”
“I don’t know what you want me to tell you.”
He bent down and kissed me on the mouth. I turned my face away. He grabbed my chin with his hand and ran his thumb across my lips.
“You’ve done a very good job of pretending to enjoy my attention tonight,” he said.
I wasn’t pretending. My mind thought the words, but my lips couldn’t form them in the air.
Then his hands ran down over my body and I shuddered all over.
“First, I think I’ll make sure you’re in the proper state for interrogation.”
He pulled his tie off, and then laid it over my eyes. I jerked my head back, but he knotted the tie quickly.
I moaned. This blindfold wasn’t like the cotton. There was no light coming through, and I couldn’t see a damn thing.
“Don’t,” I begged.
“The drug will amplify your senses,” he murmured. His voice was in my ear, ec
hoing through my skull. “But I need you to focus.”
His mouth moved down, biting my neck softly, nipping my skin. I moaned again and again as every touch of his sent another thrill spiraling through my body. His tongue licked me, then his teeth closed down on my arm. His hands were everywhere, stroking, squeezing. I was dizzy with it.
“Rien—”
“Where is Susan Steadhill?”
“I don’t know.”
“Wrong answer.”
He licked my nipple, the light pressure making me harden instantly.
His hands fluttered over my skin. Everything he did was gentle, barely touching me. Whatever he’d given me to drug me made everything seem a hundred times as intense. And this light pressure built my nerves up to a high-pitched tension. It drove me insane.
Then his tongue was at my entrance. He ran his tongue in light circles over my swollen nub. More, more, then—
He was gone. Nothing. No hands, no tongue. Nothing of his touched me. I cried, a keening cry that made my whole body shiver.
“Rien—”
“Where is she?”
I shook my head wildly from side to side.
“I don’t know,” I gasped. “Touch me, please. Please, let me come—”
“Not yet.”
I could feel him loosening the ropes at my ankles. I pulled at them with my legs, and the knots gave way. I clamped my thighs together and squeezed. I could make myself come, I could, I knew I could. The drugs coursing through my system revved my adrenaline to full power. The ache heightened as I pushed myself closer… closer…
His hands grasped my hips, and he flipped my body over before I could finish. The rope tying my wrists together twisted against my skin. I whimpered, and he spanked me hard.
“AH!”
His fingers teased me at my entrance, only slipping in slightly before withdrawing. I cried out, moaning. He spanked me again. The pain shot down my leg, my skin burning with the impact.
“Susan. Where is she?”
“No, no.” My mind was gone, spinning out of control. I couldn’t focus on anything but the touch of Rien’s fingers. He spanked me harder, over and over again. Each time he did, his fingers slipped in a bit farther into me, and I’d think that he was going to let me come. Then he would withdraw, and slap me, and the bright pain made me ache even worse.
I wasn’t me anymore. I was a hollow shell that only he could fill. I needed him. My body ached for him. I wanted him to bring me to the edge and past it, to leap off into the abyss with him inside of me.
“Susan.”
“I was Susan. I was supposed to be Susan.” My characters! They were all falling away from me. I had nowhere to hide.
“Where is she now?”
“Don’t… Don’t know.” I thought hard. Where was she?
The touch of his hands sent my focus spiraling off into the spot where my thighs met my ass.
“I don’t know where she is, oh God, Rien, please, I don’t know where she is.”
“Will you tell other people about me?”
“What?”
“If I let you go.”
Let me go? He was thinking about letting me go? I gasped. I couldn’t keep my thoughts straight, but this one reverberated through my system.
“You’re going to let me go?”
“Would you want that?”
“Yes.”
“Would you go to the police if I let you go?”
“I… I don’t know.” I thought about Mr. Steadhill. He was an asshole, sure, but I couldn’t leave him tied up to be tortured and killed. But no, it was Rien asking me. Rien. I had to tell him no. He wouldn’t let me go if I didn’t. But I couldn’t make myself say the words.
One word, Sara: NO.
I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t lie to him.
“Would you tell them about me?”
“Will you let Mr. Steadhill go?” I asked. Maybe if he did that, then I could say that I wouldn’t go to the police.
“No.”
“Oh, I can’t. I can’t. Rien—”
“You would tell them about me? The police?”
“Yes. No. Yes, I would.” The words caught in my throat. I couldn’t lie. Whatever he had given me had muddled my brain and the lies were gone, no matter how I grasped for them.
“I’m sorry, Rien,” I gasped. “I’m sorry. I would have to.”
“Thank you, Sara.” His mouth was at my ear. “I believe you.”
“Are you going to kill me?” My mind spun.
“No. Not if I can find Susan.”
“Please, Rien—”
“Do you want me to stop now?”
“No.” I was panting. I needed him.
His chest was hot on top of my back. This time though, his cock was sliding against my ass, and—oh! God! The tip eased forward into me, pressing for entrance.
“I believe you, Sara. This is only for you now.”
My mouth went dry.
He pushed into me with one sharp thrust. I gasped as I felt myself expand, clenching around him. He paused there, and I shuddered. Every twitch of my muscles sent different signals through my body. After a few seconds, he moved again.
“Ohhhh,” I groaned.
Inch by inch, rocking back and forth, he worked his swollen cock deep into my ass.
I screamed. I begged.
Every second felt like an hour. He spanked me, pinched me, kneaded me. The world disappeared as he edged inward; everything around me was a void and we were alone in it. My nipples ached with the mounting pressure. Then he thrust forward again and I clutched the sheets and screamed.
His hand reached around to my front. When his fingers brushed against my stomach, it tickled; I yelped and yanked against the ropes, but they held.
“Rien!”
He slipped his hand down and cupped me, and my shout turned into a moan. Dark, it was so dark.
His two fingers slicked both sides of me even as he worked his cock in deeper. I bucked my hips, hoping for him to touch me, but he pinned me down and spanked me hard.
“Be good,” he whispered.
“Good…” I moaned. I wanted more, I needed more. Still, I was shocked when he reached down and curled two fingers, thrusting them into me. I jerked back.
Slowly, firmly, he rocked his hand back and forth. The melody slowed, matched his rhythm, and it seemed like he was conducting both of us, me and the musician.
I lost myself completely in his grip. Rocking, moaning, I moved along with him, his hips rolling against mine and stretching me impossibly, then withdrawing so slowly that the terrible agony of the friction sent my body into shudders. Again, again, he thrust inward, and as I breathed in I could swear that the oxygen had all gone from the air. In the dark, unable to see, I imagined myself sucking in an airless vacuum of space.
Then my body came screaming back to me as the pressure built, built, the ache turning me into a gibbering, needful monster. Rien’s fingers thrust faster and faster, beating in a different time along with his pumping cock. I gasped and gripped the sheets on the bed between my fingers. My wrists strained at the ropes and my body stretched to its limits and then just beyond, the pain shimmering right above the pleasure.
Now. I whispered the word in my mind, and then it needed to be true.
Now. Now. Now. The ache was too much. I needed him. I needed Rien to take me, to throw me off of the top of this shaking cliff.
“Now,” I strained. Rien thrust deep and bent his mouth to my ear.
“Now?”
“Yes, yes, oh God, yes. Now, yes. Now!”
Blind and bound, I writhed endlessly. My body was wracked with my terrible, dark need: the need for him. His cock urged on deeper inside me, his fingers teased me to the edges of sanity. I screamed and his hand wrapped around my throat, my scream turned into a cry of ecstasy, filling the room as I exploded in pure pleasure. So bright it was soundless, and even the music in the room seemed to stop for that second, that endless, endlessly delicious second w
here reality disappeared and everything was wonderful and Rien was wonderful, the whole world a wonder.
My screams subsided, the shivers ran through my body. My nerves tensed and hiccuped. Rien’s arms closed around me and held me close. His palms felt burning, beautifully hot. I gasped for breath as he caressed me and squeezed me softly against him. His cock was still hard, pulsing, but he held me and did not push in.
My heart slowed, and the music came back into focus. The beat of the drum, so much slower now than a few minutes ago. The drugs must be hitting my system, now, I thought slowly. Then I laughed at myself.
“What do you want?”
I blinked dreamily. Rien’s voice came into focus as though it was visible in the air. Like floating letters spelling out his question.
“Nothing.”
It was my automatic answer. I didn’t want anything. I never did. I don’t owe anyone any favors. I did right by my family by not wanting anything.
“What do you want? Sara?”
My consciousness slipped back and forth between two worlds. In one of them, Rien was touching me, his voice gentle in my ear. His lips fluttering kisses down my chin. The sheets were silken, like lying on doves’ wings. The music playing lilted in the air, a guitar stringing a note along for eons, singing just for me.
In the other, my hands were knotted above my head, and my legs were stretched apart with ties. Rien was stretching my body, torturing my senses, his thick cock penetrating me. The rope was rough against my skin. The beat of my pulse thudded in my ears.
The two worlds refocused into one.
“Yes.”
“Tell me what you want.”
“I want you. Only you. I love you. Oh, Rien. Rien—”
He groaned. His hot seed burst into a strange part of me. I shuddered with him as he pumped into me one last time, my body gripping his cock hard before it slipped out. Every cell in my body seemed to quiver with complete satisfaction as he held me, this killer, this lover, held me and did not let me go.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Rien
It would be easier if she lied.
I admit, I half hoped that I could kill her. But she was perfectly honest. More than that, she wanted… me.
Her body unraveled under me, and I could only lie there and hold her as she shivered into my chest. I had taken her apart, my toy, and found the truth I’d been looking for.
