The Horror of our Love: A Twisted Tales Anthology

by Nikita Slater

  I made sounds I’ve never made before, I begged for release. I clamped my knees around his head but he grabbed them and dragged them back down to the bed, insisting on complete control. He laughed as I thrust my hips up toward his mouth and demanded he make me come harder than I’d ever come before. Then he obliged.

  “Come for me, Nola!” he commanded, his rough voice vibrating through my wet folds.

  I didn’t give a fuck. I screamed my pleasure for the world to hear as he clamped his mouth over my pussy and sucked, drawing my clit so hard between his teeth I saw stars. I came with those stars, my hips shooting right off the bed and into his waiting hands. As I came back down onto the bed he released me, crawled up my body and surged into me, his cock making itself right at home in my soaking passage.

  I gripped him with my knees and rolled my hips up as much as I could to meet each savage thrust as he took me with enough force to rock the bed. I surged up against my restraints as another orgasm hit me, cresting in a wild, primitive wave. He growled and slammed a hand between my breasts, pinning me to the bed while he fucked me.

  He let out a vicious roar that reverberated throughout the room, surged into me one last time and pressing his fingers hard against my breast bone, leaving me gasping for breath. I felt his penis grow within me and then pulse as he came. A blush enveloped me from head to toe. Not one of embarrassment. No… it was one of comfort, warmth and need. This man had thoroughly possessed me, and I wasn’t opposed to it.

  I felt him collapse on top of me and smirked. He wouldn’t have to worry about a gun this time. I blinked and felt my eyelashes brush against something. Probably his face. It was so strange… touching something you could look right through. I moved my face a little closer and pressed my chin against his skin, feeling something sandpapery. It must be his chin as well. It felt rough against mine, as though he had a five o’clock shadow.

  “Do… do you shave?” I whispered. Then I laughed, the sound stilted. What a strange thing to ask a man you couldn’t see. Of all the questions to ask the man that had abducted me and ravished me… oh and was completely invisible, this was probably the least important. Still, I wanted to know the answer.

  He chuckled and buried his face in my neck, inhaling for long seconds before moving back. He answered as he released my wrists from the headboard. “No,” he said, his voice low and gruff. He enveloped my wrists one at a time in his big hands and rubbed them, tenderly restoring the blood flow. “I came this way. Never had to worry about nicking myself shaving.”

  “Huh,” I said, eyeing the weirdness that was my own hands floating in strange patterns in front of my face. I wasn’t sure what to say. I knew he was bald, having felt the smoothness of his head beneath my fingertips while we were having sex.

  “Come,” he said, pulling me toward the edge of the bed.

  I grabbed for the sheet, snatching it from the bed as he stood me upright. I half expected him to take the silky material away from me. Instead, he helped me wind it around my body and tuck it beneath my armpits. I frowned suspiciously at his solicitous behaviour and took a small step away from where I thought he was standing. Then it occurred to me that he was still completely naked.

  “C-can you please put some clothes on?” I asked.

  He chuckled and seconds later the closet door swung open. I jumped. It occurred to me that if he was distracted, perhaps I could make it to the front door and escape. I turned on my heel and lurched toward the bedroom door. I made it about two steps before slamming into a solid object. Steel bands wrapped around my arms stopping my fall to the carpet.

  “Going somewhere, doll?”

  “Fuck, you’re fast!” I yelped.

  He lifted me right off my feet and carried me toward the closet, thrusting me inside. I stumbled in and turned to see if he followed, assuming he must be behind me. I turned and watched, my heart hammering with both fear and curiosity as the bedroom light seemed to bend around absolutely nothing. The closet light flicked on and the optical illusion disappeared.

  I glanced to my side, my eyes falling on something glittery. I stepped in for a closer look when I realized I was looking at rack after rack of women’s clothes. I frowned and reached out to touch, knowing before my fingers even reached the material that I would be touching couture clothing that I could never in a million years ever afford. I couldn’t help myself. I had to step closer, had to lift the sleeve of one of the jackets and rub it against my cheek. I let out a sigh and allowed the material to drift back through my hand.

  That’s when I saw the shoes. Dozens of pairs of shoes and boots. Row after row in every possible shade, in every possible heel height. My mouth watered, my eyes watered. I was pretty sure I’d died and gone to heaven. There was no other explanation. I was in heaven and the man in the closet was the weirdest possible invisible sex God that nobody ever thought existed.

  “All yours, Nola.” His voice sounded from over my head. “All your size. I’ve been collecting them for the past few months in preparation for your arrival.”

  I stood still for a moment, absorbing his words, caught between the fantasy world of an orphan being handed everything she ever wanted (sort of) and a woman who understood real life didn’t work this way. “What if I don’t want this?” I asked the question that had to be asked.

  “No choice.” His answer was instant and uncompromising.

  I nodded. Yeah, I’d known what his response would be. His every action so far had told me that he wouldn’t be willing to let go of his obsession. I was going to have to find a way to make him let go.

  I moved toward the back of the closet, my feet moving of their own accord. It really said something about my willingness to believe this psycho if I was willing to turn my back on him. Not that I could see him anyway. But, despite his silent, predatory movements, something inside me sensed him. Sensed his nearness… and knew that he wouldn’t actually harm me.

  I ran my hand over some of the finest clothes I’d ever touched as I stepped into the back of the closet, toward shelves, steeped in shadows. I jumped as a series of lights flashed on overhead. I glanced over my shoulder. Of course, I couldn’t see a thing. I suppose, if I was going to be here for awhile I was going to have to stop searching for this guy all the time. I stepped up to the rows of shelves. The hairs on my arm stood up and I shivered as I felt an arm brush my bicep when he reached past me. The top shelf seemed to magically open. I gasped in appreciation. So many rows of glittering diamonds met my eyes that it took me a moment to process what I was looking at; earrings and necklaces. Some were matching sets, some were singles, all were stunning. I knew without a single doubt that they were real and far more than I could ever afford in a lifetime.

  I reached out a hesitant hand to touch, but I was too slow. The drawer slid closed. A sigh of disappointment slid past my lips before I could stop it. He chuckled against my ear, his lips brushing the skin of my shoulder as he reached past me to open the second drawer. This one contained bracelets and rings. Again, before I could touch anything, he closed the drawer. My disappointment grew. The third drawer opened. This one was filled with an assortment of men’s cufflinks, lighters and watches. My eyes caught on one particular set, and this time I was faster than him. I thrust my hand in the drawer and ran my fingertip over the royal blue set, studded with three diamonds in each. I’d seen them before.

  I pulled my hand back. My breathing grew shallow as the implication hit. I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of it earlier, weeks ago, when I’d first noticed my secret stalker. Only I’d been too flattered and titillated to really use my brain. Idiot. “Open the last drawer,” I whispered.

  I could feel him crouch down, next to my legs and reach past me. He opened the drawer just as I tilted my head down, my dark hair swirling around me. Rows of gloves in every shade and texture lined the drawer, though it was clear my Invisible man favoured black leather. I placed a hand over my now pounding heart. The drawer closed and I felt, rather than heard, him stand and move aw
ay from me.

  Rustling indicated he was getting dressed. I swallowed, trying to wet my suddenly dry throat, and when I had my chaotic emotions under control, I finally turned to face my kidnapper. He was now wearing a dark trench coat, the collar tilted up. I glanced to the other side of the closet, opposite the women’s clothes. It contained tidy rows of men’s clothes: trench coats, dress pants, collared shirts and tie and scarf racks. Like the women’s side, there were rows of shoes along the bottom. Above the men’s clothing there was an extra row. This row contained several dark, wide-brimmed hats.

  He reached up and collected a hat, dropping it above the collared coat, right where a man’s head should have been. The effect was so dramatic I covered my mouth to stifle a gasp. He stood that way for a moment, not bothering with a scarf, gloves or shoes. There was no point. I knew exactly who he was.

  “What’s y-your name?” I whispered, awe and fear crashing through me.

  “Rasputin,” he said, his voice a raspy growl. I heard it now, heard the sandpaper voice I recognized in the shape that was now familiar.

  “Rasputin Shy,” I said his full name.

  He held his hand out. “Come to me, Nola.”

  Chapter 8

  Rasputin

  She took my hand, almost without thinking. As though knowing I was her boss made a difference, changed things between us. I didn’t care why she did it, so long as she didn’t question me. She stared at me, intense emotion flashing through those dark, gorgeous eyes of hers. She couldn’t seem to stop looking at me, her eyes glued to my face now that she knew where it was. Elation exploded through my chest and I crushed her hand in mine.

  I wanted to fuck her again and again until she begged for mercy, begged me to stop. She was everything to me and finally I could have her, keep her, worship her. Hand her the world and everything in it on a silver platter.

  I released her hand for just a moment. Reaching past her I tugged a short, white silk robe off a nearby hanger. “Lose the sheet,” I said gruffly. She hesitated, but when I held the robe up for her to see, she dropped the sheet and quickly stepped forward allowing me to wrap her in the sweetly-scented material. When I’d purchased it, I had the saleslady package it in lavender spritzed tissue paper. In anticipation of Nola’s imminent arrival, I’d unwrapped it that very morning, holding it to my face and breathing deeply, imagining it enveloping her soft skin. Now, she looked like an angel in the clingy white material, her dark hair falling in a messy cloud around her shoulders.

  I tied the belt around her middle, took her hand and pulled her from the closet. She came willingly, though I watched for any signs that she might attack or try to run. My Nola was a wonderful and wily woman. I wasn’t quite ready to relax in her presence yet. Not until we’d established boundaries and I’d seen some sign that she was willing to accept the life I was offering.

  I checked the clock as I led her past the bedroom and guest suites toward the kitchen and living room area. We were right on time. Lights illuminated our path as we walked. Nola looked up, her mouth opening in awe as she took in the luxury surrounding us. Her fingers drifted out to touch the rough edge of my Gerhard Richter. As if sensing the value of the painting she snatched her hand away.

  I ran my palm down her arm from her shoulder to her wrist and linked my fingers through hers. I lifted our joined hands and pressed the pads of her fingertips lightly against the canvas. “What do you see?” I asked, bending to speak in her ear.

  She didn’t say anything for a second as she studied the painting. Then she shifted back a little, subconsciously leaning against me to give herself more room. “I see colours,” she said, low and sweet. “I see… so many colours but thrown together with severity. It’s barbaric, but it’s also quite beautiful.” She twisted around to look up at me, then she frowned, as if remembering that there was no face for her to see. “What do you see, Mr. Shy?”

  “Rasputin,” I corrected her. “And I see profit. A painting that commands a price far higher than its worth. Which is why it’s in my home. It’ll find a new place soon enough when I find a buyer willing to pay my price.”

  “Oh,” she said, almost disappointed.

  “Unless you’d rather we keep it. If you like that sort of thing then consider it a gift, doll.”

  She tilted her head to the side and thought about it. “And how much is that particular painting worth, Mr… Rasputin?”

  “Around 46 million, give or take.”

  She didn’t even pause, she straightened and said, “Sell it.”

  I laughed out loud. Probably the first spontaneous laugh I’d enjoyed in years, if ever. This woman was more than worthy of my love. She was a fucking goddess. She would walk by my side and complete my future. I stepped toward her, took her face in my hands and kissed her. She didn’t protest. She didn’t have the opportunity to protest. She brought her hands up. Hovering in the air for a moment, uncertain, before settling them against my side. It only took a few seconds before her light squeeze became a hug, her arms wrapping completely around me. I smelled lavender and Nola. I wanted to drown in her.

  I held her against me and kissed her, passionately, lovingly for as long as I dared. Now was not the time for more fucking around, though I would have loved nothing more than to lay her down on the couch and take her again. Unfortunately, we needed to work through some business first. Then we could settle into our dream life together.

  “Nola,” I whispered against her lips. She moaned and reached an arm up to wrap around my head and tug me back in for more kissing. I smiled and forced her arm back down. “Ah, Nola, doll,” I said, holding her against me and walking her several steps toward the floor to ceiling windows. Her dreamy gaze was still on me. “I want you to watch something.” I tapped the glass until she turned her head and looked. She gasped in awe at the spread of city lights, like a blanket laid out at her feet, flowing out from beneath my high-rise tower. I pointed into the distance. “Look there.”

  I could feel from the tension in her body and the slight intake of breath the moment she saw it. She turned completely in the loose cage of my arms to face the window. She stared hard at the orange glow in the distance.

  “What is it?” she asked in a whisper.

  “I think you know.”

  “Fire,” she said.

  “Yes,” I confirmed her suspicion.

  She pressed a hand against the glass and watched the flickering light in the distance, creating a glowing halo on the horizon. “Why are you showing me this?” she asked, turning her head in my direction, but not taking her eyes from the scene in front of her. I didn’t answer. She was a smart girl, she’d work it out. After a moment, she answered her own question. “That’s my building, isn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  She made a small, angry sound. The hand pressed against the window balled into a fist. “Why?!” she asked sharply, her eyes now glued to the scene in front of her. “Why would you do such a thing? What about my neighbors, and… and all of my things? You’re a monster!”

  “I’ve never pretended to be otherwise, Nola,” I said calmly, though her words were a knife to the gut. I wanted to sever her ties to the past, not foster her hatred. I relented somewhat. “I gave your neighbors the option to leave before my men set the fire. And any of your belongings that had sentimental value were removed and put into storage hours ago.” I took her shoulders and turned her toward me. When she refused to look up, I tilted her chin, forcing her to look into the shadowy nothingness that should’ve been my face. “I know what’s important to my doll. I will always take the appropriate steps to secure your happiness.”

  “Yet, I’m not happy right now, Rasputin,” she said tartly, then wrinkled her nose. “What kind of a name is that anyway? Rasputin? What were your parents thinking? No one names their kids that.”

  I chuckled. “I don’t have parents. Gave myself the name. Thought it sounded interesting and the historical figure, Grigori Rasputin, was an influential mystic at the turn of the
20th century. Some people believed he could make himself disappear at will and thus managed to escape his own murder. Bullshit, of course, but I enjoy the mythology.”

  She looked at me with a frown, deep in thought. After a moment, she murmured, “You don’t have parents? How is that possible? Everyone has parents.”

  “I don’t,” I said shortly. It wasn’t something I enjoyed dwelling on. Though I knew I wasn’t ‘normal’, I was still pretty sure I was human, and people needed contact. Something I’d been deprived of my entire existence. “Just woke up one day like this.”

  She opened her mouth to say something else, but I was done with this line of questioning. And if she was finished watching her old life burn then I had something else to show her. I took her by the elbow and steered her away from the window toward the living room. “Come with me, doll. I have something for you to see.”

  She followed my lead, but laughed bitterly and said, “So far I’m 50/50 on your little surprises. I liked the clothes and jewels, I must admit. Not so much the show of power by burning my apartment building to the ground.”

  I tilted my head in a slight nod of agreement. Life with me wouldn’t always be to Nola’s liking, I was sure of that. But she would get used to it. “You have to see what I’m capable of.”

  “Sending your thugs out with a gas can and a matchbook?” she said tartly. “I’m not impressed, Rasputin.”

  I gave her a light shove, sending her tumbling back onto the sofa. She let out an annoyed growl but stayed where she landed when I kept a restraining hand on her shoulder. She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest, staring at the wall through narrowed eyes. She was so fucking beautiful when she was mad.

  I picked up the remote control and pressed a button. A panel opened, revealing my TV. Another press of a button turned the TV on. Nola had shifted on the couch to face the TV and was now watching with fascination. I turned the screen on and pressed play on the video feed I’d prepared in preparation for this moment. It had taken work to get to the bottom of this puzzle, had meant splicing a few grainy video feeds that were at opposing angles, but the final product had finally shown the theft.