by Ana Medeiros
It was hard, if not impossible, for Julian to guess what was going on in Alana’s mind. She was extremely skilled at concealing her emotions. The few times he thought he had seen a glimpse of her true self it was when she was talking about books. Julian wasn’t sure if she was being sexually submissive because she wanted to please him or because she was being loyal to her nature. He wondered how far he would have to push her to find out. Or even if he wanted to. It was dangerous to use sex as a medium to lift the veil into someone’s mind.
Julian couldn’t get the image of Alana on her hands and knees out of his head. It haunted him—her on the floor, facing the city night skyline through the large window, her body covered in a thin layer of sweat and oil, her long hair sticking to her face, her neck, as he entered her from behind amidst her soft whimpering. That had been one of the reasons Julian had called her at the bookstore and told her he wanted to see her again. The other reasons were less straightforward. He should keep his distance from her. There was her connection to Steven Thompson and her secrecy when it came to sharing anything about herself. There had been two emotions Alana hadn’t been able to hide from him; pleasure and fear. He had wanted to give her all of that pleasure but he couldn’t turn his back on her when fear seeped through every single one of her words and actions.
Julian had picked her up after she was done with work and when he had asked her what she was craving she had said ice cream. He wondered if Alana would ever let him take her out for a proper dinner. After some insisting on his part, she had finally revealed that her favorite ice cream was Mint Galactica by Luna & Larry’s Coconut Bliss. That’s how they had ended up at the parking lot, sitting in his car, each holding a pint of ice cream and eating it with plastic spoons.
Not wanting to ruin the feeling of intimacy they were experiencing, Julian didn’t start the car, even though they had been done with the ice cream for some time.
“You should wear your hair down.” He took in as much as he could of her. “You have stunning hair.”
Alana turned her body toward him. “My best feature?”
“That would be your eyes.”
Upon hearing his comment, Julian noticed she looked away. “Does my compliment make you feel uncomfortable?”
“Why are you doing this?” The cheerfulness was gone from her voice.
“Doing what?”
“Trying to be nice.”
“You don’t think there’s kindness in the real me?” He wasn’t sure why he had asked her that. He wished he hadn’t.
“You’re a kind man but not a nice man, Julian. The first time we spoke I said I wanted you. I meant it.”
Her voice was so calm and rooted in self-confidence that he felt, at that moment, absolute respect for Alana.
“And I said I couldn’t give something I didn’t know how to give.”
“When you held my head with both hands and you fucked my mouth, hearing me gag on your cock over and over again, seeing the tears falling down my face, you gave yourself to me. When you fucked me in the ass on the hardwood floor of your bedroom, you trapped my body under yours as you heard me cry out every time you forced your cock deep inside of me, you gave yourself to me. There’s a thirst in you. You try to suppress it but you can’t. You take pleasure in inflicting pain…in hurting me. You love it,” she continued, her eyes on his. “That’s why I want you.”
He sat up straighter and closed both hands around the steering wheel. Looking through the windshield at the vacant parking spots around them, he had to coerce his body to exhale. He was now so attuned to Alana, he felt her body heat hitting him in steady waves. Her breathing was the only sound he could hear.
Turning the keys in the ignition, Julian accelerated out of the parking lot. “Put your seat belt on,” he said, not taking his eyes off the road.
She didn’t ask him where he was taking her but she glanced at him every couple of minutes. Julian didn’t break the silence.
Around twenty minutes later he parked the car. “When I need to get away from everything I come here. I want to share it with you.”
They were at the Music Box Theatre on North Southport Avenue. Julian purchased two tickets for a screening that had started five minutes ago. They sat in the last row of the almost empty theater room.
“Do you know what this movie is about?” Alana whispered by his ear.
“No idea.”
“It’s never about the movie, is it?”
Julian removed his coat, tilting his head toward her. “It’s about me doing whatever I want to you.” His lips were so close to her neck they brushed her skin as he spoke. “It’s about me sliding my hands under your sweater and tugging hard on your nipples. It’s about me kneeling between your legs, pulling down your jeans and fucking you with my tongue.”
When she swallowed, he felt her throat move against his mouth.
“It’s about having you straddle me as I’m all the way inside of you, enjoying your tight grip, your warmth,” Julian continued, reaching for her hand and placing it on his crotch. He wrapped his fingers around hers and held his breath when she cupped him. “It’s about you keeping your eyes on the screen, not being allowed to make a sound, as I bite your neck and kiss your lips until they are red and swollen. It’s about us knowing I’m yours and you’re mine.”
His erection, heavy and hard, pressed against his slacks. It throbbed with her touch. He wanted to be inside of her. Alana kissed him. Her kiss was gentle, a light caress, but he could taste the hunger in her. It was the same hunger he carried within him, slowly roaring, always searching for release. Julian moved to his knees, between her legs, and soon she was pulling fistfuls of his hair, arching her back off her chair. Julian didn’t care that there wasn’t enough room between the rows of seats to fit his tall body; or that he was kneeling on discarded popcorn and the floor was sticky with soft drink stains and dirt carried in by the winter shoes of strangers. Julian bit the inside of her thigh with primal abandon and Alana cried out. He was vaguely aware of someone in the audience, possibly the man sitting a few rows ahead, shushing them.
He moved up along her torso and brought his face close to hers. Julian felt her breath mix with his. The scent of her arousal on his lips and on his cheeks was slowly driving Julian to lose control. The savageness of his raw masculinity coursed through his body. Soon nothing else would matter. He forced himself to take several deep breaths. He needed to command his basic nature. Shuddering under him, Alana was so warm she felt almost feverish to him. He stroked her face with his cheek and hoped the softness of her skin would lull his heartbeat to a less agonizing pace. Trying to move as quietly as possible, he sat back on his seat. Reaching into his coat pocket, Julian grabbed his wallet and found a condom inside of it.
“Take your jeans off but keep your panties on,” he said to her, his face in her hair. “I want you to sit on me, facing the screen.”
Alana made no noise as she followed his instructions, her body moving easily among the seats. As the scenes changed on screen, the theatre switched between shadowy, almost complete darkness, to vivid brightness. As Alana lifted herself up and straddled his thighs, facing the front of the theater, a daylight scene came up. Julian thought, there he was, late on a Saturday night, in the back row of Music Box Theatre, with no idea what foreign movie was playing, fucking a petite blonde who was a complete riddle to him. That thought only made him grow harder.
He heard Alana make a small sound of distress and, if all of his attention hadn’t been on her, he would have missed it. Because of the position they were in, Julian wasn’t sure she would be able to accommodate all of him.
Moving her underwear further aside, he held her by the waist, steadying her. Part of him just wanted to force her body to take him. But that wouldn’t achieve his goal. Julian knew that pain, simply by how it’s enacted, could transform itself from a soul-breaking force to a catalyst of the most powerful pleasure. He didn’t want to simply hurt Alana. It was about satisfying them both. For that, sh
e needed to feel he was coercing her to accept the pain he was giving her.
He placed his fingers on her and stroked her in small circles. Hearing her gasp, Julian closed his hand on her nape and, taking a firm hold on her hair, pulled her head back toward him. He wasn’t gentle. He enjoyed the sight of strain on her neck.
“Shhh, Alana…quiet. We don’t want to be caught.” He wrapped his free hand around her neck. He did it slowly, feeling each of his fingers press down on her fragile throat. Julian used just enough force to capture her wild heartbeat through his open palm. The weight of it would make Alana aware of each breath she took.
“I want to be all the way inside of you,” he paused, struggling not to move, “fuck you the way you crave to be fucked.” Her body was beautifully arched over his. “Feel my hands on your hair? On your throat? I’m not letting go until you come.”
She gradually took more of him, but at a pace that made Julian open his mouth in a mute scream. He tightened his hold on her. Julian had to remove his hand from around her throat. He didn’t want to. But he had to.
“Fuck,” he whispered against her ear. “What are you doing to me?”
He looked up and saw she had her eyes closed. The expression on her face was a mesmerizing picture of ecstasy.
Julian started to move. He couldn’t take his eyes away from her. The changing images on the screen were bathing her body in various shades of light and darkness, as if revealing the different facets of Alana. He wanted her body, her pleasure and her pain. He wanted Alana in all of her complexity.
She convulsed on top of him and he covered her mouth with his hand to muffle the moans escaping her lips. Julian’s release followed hers and he had to press his face to the curve of Alana’s neck to smother his own cries of pleasure.
• • •
Julian woke up.
It was still dark. He felt Alana’s sleeping body beside him and, wrapping his arm around her waist, he brought her closer to him.
They had driven back to his place and it was past three in the morning when they had fallen asleep, exhausted, after they had subjected each other to several hours of pure visceral sex. No part of Alana’s body had been left untouched by Julian and now, only a few short hours after the last time he had been inside of her, he wanted her again.
Alana had her back turned to him and, moving her hair out of the way, he brought his lips to the small area between her shoulder blades. He felt her steady breathing. Running his palm along the curve of her waist, he turned her to face him. It was too dark for Julian to be able to see and he used his touch to explore as much of her as he could. Rubbing the tips of his fingers along her ribcage, he thought she felt fragile. Too fragile. As if she would break under his hands. Not at all the type of woman he normally found himself interested in. However, the more he told himself that he shouldn’t be attracted to Alana the more his desire for her grew. His fingers found the scar on her shoulder and he ran the tip of his tongue along the ragged line. To him her scar was beautiful.
Julian lifted himself over her and parted her legs with his knee. Letting his head hang forward, he took in her scent. Alana smelled like sex. He smelled like sex. The sheets and the pillows around them smelled like sex.
He shifted his body weight to his elbow, his torso meeting hers. It was the first time he felt her without a condom on and her body was reacting to his caressing strokes. Julian brought himself to her entrance, nudging inside of her. He knew he was playing with fire. Being careless. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain completely still. The tension was so great his whole frame started to tremble. Drops of sweat ran down the back of his neck. If she moved he was done for.
“Julian…” Alana’s voice sounded hoarse and she whispered his name almost like a question.
“You feel so good,” he said through clenched teeth. “So good.”
She touched his face. For a short, meaningful, moment they didn’t speak or move. In the darkness Julian could only feel and smell Alana. Nothing else. She raised her hips off the bed, just slightly, but enough for Julian to know he couldn’t change what was about to happen. He entered her and then he stilled, using his own weight to press Alana down into the mattress. He didn’t tell her why, but he wanted to capture that feeling—the first time her warmth, her slickness enfolded his flesh.
Alana inhaled sharply and Julian closed his arms around her. “Sore?” he asked, aware of the rough sex they had the evening before and throughout the night.
She nodded.
He brushed her hair away from her face and brushed his lips along her forehead. “I’ll be gentle.” He couldn’t remember the last time he had said that to someone.
Julian started to move in and out of her and when Alana wrapped her legs around his waist, making him slide in deeper, he said her name almost as a plea. He rocked his hips, grinding his pelvis into hers, and the pressure of it made her dig her short nails into his back. Their kiss was languid and Alana caressed his tongue with hers until they were both moaning.
He broke the kiss. “Finish me off with your mouth.” Julian crawled over her body, straddling her face.
As soon as her mouth closed around him and he hit the back of her throat, he tensed up with the pull of his orgasm. He reached down, closing his hand on her nape, and his breathing became more laborious. All he could do was hold on to her.
“Fuck…I’m coming…don’t stop.” As Alana swallowed him, Julian’s torso bent forward and a loud sob escaped his chest.
Panting, he collapsed beside her. He felt her curl up and tuck her head in the crook of his arm and Julian kissed her hair. He needed to physically distance himself from Alana. He was still aroused, craving more stimulation.
He glanced at the clock on the night table and saw it was six-thirty in the morning. “Stay here,” he said, getting up. “I’ll be right back.”
He got dressed in a pair of track pants and a sweater. Without turning on the lights, he made his way to the front door and put on his coat. He hoped she didn’t leave while he was gone. He needed her to be there when he returned.
Not long after, Julian was back with hot coffee, a peppermint tea and a bagel in his hand. He was relieved to see that Alana was still in bed, under the covers, just as he had left her.
He opened the heavy window drapes to another cold, overcast winter morning. It was still dark enough that he needed to turn on the nightstand lamp.
“Wake up, Alana, I brought you something to eat.” He sat on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. “We need to talk.”
He watched her peek from under the covers and slowly sit up, pulling her knees close to her chest. “What time is it?” she asked with an apprehensive look.
Julian blinked a few times. He wasn’t sure what he was seeing was real. “What the hell happened to your lips?”
She took her hand to her mouth, appearing confused. “What do you mean?”
Julian moved around the bed, closer to her and, taking a hold of her chin with his hand, turned her face toward the light. Her lips stained purple and red, it looked as if she had eaten wild berries. Her lower lip was especially bruised. Holding her face up, his eyes traveled down her elongated neck, and that’s when he saw the marks.
He stood there, taking in the vision of her—naked, messy hair falling around her shoulders, waiting for his reaction with an anxious stare. Julian touched her swollen lower lip with the pad of his thumb. “Did I do this to you?” His voice was hushed, asking her a question he didn’t need an answer for.
“Yes…does it look bad?”
“Uh-huh. Very.”
“It doesn’t hurt.”
Julian let go of her chin and sat beside her, resting his elbows on his knees. “Seeing those marks on you, knowing I did that to you—”
“Is making you hard?” she asked, finishing his sentence.
He closed his eyes tightly, an expression of shame in his face. “Yes.”
“Does it bother you?”
“I can’t change what arouses me.”
“I know.”
He turned to look at her. She was staring at the rumpled bed covers, lost in thought. “Here, I brought you something to eat.” He reached for the tea and bagel he had left on the nightstand.
“I’m not hungry.”
“The last thing I saw you eat was ice cream,” he stopped speaking, aware he was letting his frustration take over. “Please, Alana?” he continued, softening his voice. “Eat as we talk.”
She took the food from his hand.
“Thank you,” Julian said as he watched her take a small bite from the bagel.
They sat side by side, quietly, for a while.
“Yes,” Alana said, looking at him with a weary expression.
He raised an eyebrow, not understanding what she meant.
“I’m on the pill,” she clarified, sipping her tea. “And yes, I’m clean of STIs. You?”
“Same. To the STI part,” he said, in a lighter tone.
“Isn’t that what you wanted to talk about?”
“That was part of it.” His eyes didn’t leave her face. “The police think a woman’s death is linked to the club. I want you to be careful.”
She widened her eyes at his words. “I’m careful.”
“Are you?” he asked, not bothering to hide his skepticism. “I’m a member of The Raven Room. I just did that to you,” Julian paused, glancing at her neck and lips, “how do you know I’m not involved?”
“I don’t.”
“Is that all you’re going to say?”
“I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“For reasons beyond my understanding, you won’t tell me much about yourself, how you know Steven Thompson.” He no longer sounded angry. He was speaking with a twinge of disappointment, his eyes lost on the floor between his feet. “There’s a lot that goes on at The Raven Room. A lot that shouldn’t happen. Promise me you’ll never get into any sexual game that can put your life at risk. It doesn’t matter if you trust the person you’re with. Just don’t do it. This includes Thompson.” Julian faced her. “And me.”
