by K Larsen
I set my cards down on the table and look her over. “I’m thirsty.”
“Okay. What do you want?”
“You.”
“Liam, stop,” she says.
“Do you think this is easy for me?” I ask. She scrunches her nose. “Do you think this is normal?”
Embarrassment washes over her face. “What?”
I shake my head at her. “Never mind. Just, how ‘bout some more coffee?”
“Okay,” she answers. She sets her cards on the coffee table, stands and smooths her skirt awkwardly. I watch her walk away, hesitantly. She looks over her shoulder at me twice before she’s out of the room. I drag in a deep breath and mentally prepare myself for what I’m going to do next.
Nora
The coffee is almost ready when Liam appears in the kitchen. I point to his mug on the table. He grabs it and slides it across the counter to me, then takes a seat and waits until I sit down across from him. I am uncertain what to do, so I look at my hands. A distinctly nervous gesture that matches the wide-eyed expression he’s throwing me. Liam drags a hand through his hair. Does he need something stronger? A little liquid courage to finish this fantasy of mine? I want to reach out and slam his head on the table. I shiver at the thought. There would be something satisfying about the thunk of his skull on wood, but I don’t. Of course, I don’t. This weekend is about me. He is doing this for me.
“You should probably drink that,” I say, as he eyes his mug.
Liam stares at me with narrowed eyes. "Don't tell me what I need." He whacks the table with both hands. The sound cracks through the house. His face goes white with rage. This is the moment where all my desires have flown. I stupidly thought I had it under control. Now, I’m stripped down to something I don’t understand. I see that he had the power the entire time. I asked for this and I am getting it but I will not be allowed to control it. Liam stands and I cower.
“This is what you like? Being at someone else’s mercy?” he says, looking away as he clenches his jaw. My legs begin to shake. I force myself to stand up. My skin jumps with the prickle of nerves. My heart beats faster, even though I breathe more slowly. Liam takes two steps toward me. I take two steps backward. I fumble to the living room. He follows, cursing at me. The look in his eyes is one I’ve not seen before. One that genuinely terrifies me.
“Stop!” I shriek. “Seriously, stop!”
He picks up a vase from the mantle and throws it at me. It smashes against the wall when I duck. He charges me and instead of dodging him, I punch him square in the jaw when he’s close enough.
“Bitch!” he bellows. His leg sweeps out sending me flat on my back. I writhe on the floor, Liam watches, gratified. “Enough with the games.” A nasty smile of expectation creeps across his face. The finality in his words rips through my chest like a knife. He flips me to my stomach. Flings one leg over my body, straddling me as I lay prone on the floor. I don't want to be naked. I don't want a shred of intimacy in a lie that feels so cold and out of control. I’m glad this time he’s too rushed to bother with clothes. His fingers grab my hands and yank them behind my back. It’s almost time, I sense it. I willingly give him control over me.
For survival.
The fabric of our clothes makes a funny sound as he pushes his pants down and my skirt up. Panties are ripped away violently. “No,” I state, “Please, not like this.” His breaths are ragged. Fingers toy with my clit but not for long. It is no matter, I am wet for him. He’s forceful. His forearm pins my head to the floor. I half-heartedly try to struggle as he thrusts in with such force, that my breath catches and I go stone still. He lays into me blunt and heavy. It’s punishment. The unrelenting grip of his fingernails burrowing painfully into the skin of my wrist is too familiar—a necessary evil of my affliction. He pounds repeatedly into me. A tear leaks from the corner of my eye. Drips across my nose and disappears into the carpeting. My orgasm crashes into me quickly. I try to hide it but I know he can feel it. He’s done in a short countdown. He lets my wrists go. My shoulders ache, as my arms drop to the floor on either side of me. His forearm is gone. Fabric rustles. A zipper sounds. Footsteps disappear.
The sound of the door slams.
I’m forsaken.
Prone on the floor.
Used.
Vandalized.
In this moment, I am unabridged. My mind feels as though it is in complete balance. I forgive myself unreservedly for my desires.
The door opens and closes again. Liam flies through the door like a storm and drops to his knees next to me. He blinks rapidly. I don’t know what he is thinking. My breaths leave me in great pants. Was this endeavor something he could truly accept?
“Damn, Nora, that was amazing.” Relief washes over me. I smile, as he helps me up to a sitting position. Tears prick my eyes but I hold them back.
“Did I hurt you?” I ask, looking him over. He is disheveled but not hurt.
“I’m fine. Are you okay? Was it too rough?” he asks, looking me over. His hands are on my biceps gently massaging.
I shrug. “It was perfect.” I roll my neck and close my eyes. A hand moves to cup my neck, the warmth of his palm on me gives me a chill.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
I shake my head and bite my lip. He presses his forehead against mine. The intimacy of it is transcendent. I am redintegrated and maudlin. His lips graze mine, tenderly, briefly. I feel at home.
“I’m fine. I’m great. I promise. I didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t know you could be like that,” I answer. He helps me to my feet. If I am honest, I am thrilled with how it all played out. I am surprised at how powerful I feel. I decide that with Liam, I am all in. He took a risk for me. He tried. For me.
He kisses me, softly, yet ravenously. When he pulls back, he looks me over.
“Tell me,” he says. “Is that what you wanted? What you need?”
“It was more than impeccable, ataraxic, delectable. I ... I didn’t realize,” my voice drifts. He twines his fingers through mine.
“Didn’t realize what?” he asks. We sit on the couch together.
I tuck myself into his side. His arm comes around my shoulder possessively.
“That it was possible. Dr. Richardson was right. That I could garner that feeling again. Capture it. You made me feel everything that I wanted, needed to. Was it terrible for you? Do you think I’m a freak?” I ask and bury my face in his chest. He squeezes me to him securely. His index finger hooks my chin, lifting until his eyes capture mine. His expression of wonderment makes my belly clench.
“No, Nora. You’re not a freak. You’re brave. You asked for something despite knowing it’s not mainstream. I wasn’t sure I would live up to your standards but honestly, we’re a good pair, don’t you think?”
I nod. “I don’t need that every time. But it is something I crave.” A small wave of insecurity hits. Will he want to take it this far again, just for my pleasure?
“Don’t look away from me. It was hot, sexy. I enjoyed it, too. If you’re willing to meet my needs, Nora, why shouldn’t I reciprocate?”
“I don’t know. I suppose I never gave it much thought because the reality of it happening was impossible.” Liam kisses the crown of my head.
“In a way, your fantasy aids mine. I liked the feeling of you fighting back.”
“You did?”
He nods. “We can figure this out together. Grow together. Find a balance.” Balance. I like the idea of it. The notion that in this life I can have it all. The dirty and depraved and the normal and mundane. His fingers trail over my arm, my side. The sensation is divine. We sit quietly together for long moments, cuddled together. This man, this relationship, is felicitous. Something worth embracing. Liam is worth holding on to.
“What now? Do we have to leave? Whose place is this?” It is growing late. I promised Lotte I would spend time with her this weekend. My responsibilities tick off in my brain. Make sure the
dog is watered, fed, let out. Make time for Lotte. Return Aubry’s call. Tell Eve how much I love her for trying to keep a secret.
“It’s a weekend rental. We can stay.”
I look up to him. “I should probably go home.”
“Why go home, when I could keep you handcuffed to my bed, for your safety, of course.” I love how violently protective it sounds when he says things like this.
“Because ... Burt. Lotte. I have things I have to do,” I say.
“Things?”
“Yes, things,” I laugh.
“You’re so mysterious,” he says.
“I think a good night’s sleep is necessary.”
“Okay, then, let’s clean up and pack up.” Disappointment flashes in his eyes. He doesn’t want our time to end. I swallow thickly and consider staying another night but I hadn’t planned on a full weekend away.
Within the hour, we are on the street in the late afternoon sun. A pang of guilt and longing strikes. I don’t really want to leave. I open my car door. He dips inside and kisses me before shutting it for me.
Liam
Her stature is small but she travels like a dart, slowing for nothing. She crashes into me and wraps her arms around my waist. I don’t get many hugs. It makes me think. I hate thinking. As a child, I got flutter hugs. That pathetic excuse for a hug, where the other person’s hand just flutters against your back in rapid succession before they feel it’s appropriate to pull away. Nora’s hug is all-consuming. Tight. Fierce. I think, maybe, I’ve genuinely made her happy. The corners of my mouth creep upward before I remove her arms from me. My eyes trail over Nora as I take in the twists in her hair, the slope of her cheekbones, her lips, the cleft of her breasts. She’s a beautiful woman.
“What was that for?” I ask.
“I just … wanted to.” I grin at her and walk her back to her car. I kiss her again, deeply, before holding her door open for her.
“What now?” I ask.
She looks up at me, a tinge of insecurity in her eyes. “We jump off the cliff together.”
“Are you ready for that?” I ask.
She nods. “Yes.”
I beam at her before kissing her again. “Okay, go get your things done. I will text you later.”
As Nora drives past me, a deep sadness takes hold of my gut. I get in my car. When I pull in my driveway, the feeling is still there. Is this what love feels like? Love was not, is not part of the plan. Love does not serve my needs but Nora has invaded my being like a pin prick. The longer we play. The more I see her, the more that pin hole opens, letting her flood inside.
If I keep my secret, can I keep Nora? Is it possible? I hate my fucking girly thoughts. I lock the car doors and head inside the empty house. Empty. I liked empty before her. It suited me. Now it feels wrong.
At eleven thirty I am wide awake staring at my bedroom ceiling, unable to sleep. I grab my phone and text Nora.
I need you. Can’t sleep.
I get no immediate response. She is probably fast asleep, lips parted, breathing shallow, fiery hair spread out across her pillow. I get up, frustrated. I pull on my sneakers but don’t bother dressing further than the boxers I have on and hop on the treadmill A good run should tire me out enough to sleep.
The doorbell chimes as I’m rinsing off in the shower from my run. I wrap a towel around my waist and head to the door. Through the glass panels on the side of the door I see a dog, Burt, sitting. A grin spreads across my face and a buoyant feeling elevates my chest. I swing the door open.
“You came.” Nora has a glow about her. A swing in her step. I’m keen to slip my fingers between her legs and see what’s waiting for me. She’s here. In my house.
“I couldn’t resist your sad text,” she says.
“Sad?”
“Pathetic. So needy,” she says, with a smile.
I look down at her feet. “You brought Burt.”
“I hope that’s okay. We were lying in bed together and I couldn’t bear to leave him behind.”
I reach down and tousle the dogs ears. “It’s fine. I like dogs. Come on, it’s chilly out.”
Nora isn’t dressed, which makes me laugh. She is in a cute pajama set. Black with cherries printed on them.
“I’ll have you know that I’m exhausted, so it’s bed for us,” she says.
“Do you want a weighted blanket?” I ask. She spins to face me. Burt stops at the end of my bed and sits. “You told me. And I bought one so that, hopefully, you’d stay over sometime.”
She bites her bottom lip and shakes her head. “I think I’ll be okay now. It is a trust thing and I trust you, Liam.”
I scoop her up in my arms in a single sweep. She is so light, like a doll. Porcelain skin and big eyes. “That makes me happy.”
“Oh?” she says grinning.
“Very.” I put her in bed before climbing on top of her. “I hope you’re not too tired for a kiss.”
Nora laughs at me and pulls my face to hers. Our kiss is fire. It is desire and need and acceptance. I pull back and look at her. Her fingers twine in the hair at the nape of my neck. “Love always seemed like madness to me. Like suffering. And for what? But then you came along and I know I'd put up with anything for you. It scares the shit out of me. I never knew a heart could feel so full.”
Her eyes widen, a blush climbs up her neck, I let my lips follow the rose color from chest to cheek. Her nails scratch at my skin. Her thighs wrap around my waist and squeeze. I cannot get her pajama top off fast enough. We are a mess of breaths and limbs as we shed our clothing.
“Fuck me, Liam,” she says. It is a command I will not disobey. I flip her to her stomach and take her from behind, first with my mouth and then my cock. Our lovemaking is violent and passionate. She fights against our position until I let her roll me to my back. She climbs on top of me and drags her nails down my chest. I squeeze her hips hard enough that tomorrow I know bruises will appear. She writhes atop me, panting. I grab her hands but she is quick and pulls them from my grip. With a crack she slaps me and my cock hardens impossibly more.
“Again,” I say, thrusting up into her. She backhands me this time and I nearly come. One hand reaches between us and I finger her, pinching her clit until her bucking is so over the top, that I slide out of her. She groans but I right us quickly.
I cannot sleep. Nora is out cold in the crook of my arm, which has no feeling anymore. Burt snores, spread across her ankles. Holden haunts me. My fucking childhood comes round like an angry hornet and stings. I can’t tell her. I can never tell her. I don’t want this to end. I don’t want what I wanted months ago. I think back, try to pinpoint when things changed for me but I can’t. It was a slow build, a plodding journey. My hate for Holden led me to my salvation. Nora has given me nothing but acceptance and trust and somewhere along the way, I decided I wanted to give her the same. Somewhere in my manipulation, I was manipulated into wanting her.
Nora
Liam is up. The water in the bathroom is running. He’s in a towel. Beads of water drip down his sculpted chest.
With a smile plastered on my face, I crawl from his bed and head to the kitchen. I tug open a cupboard for a coffee mug. I am sublimely content. Liam is filling parts of my soul I didn’t realize needed filling. I reach my hand toward the shelf. My favorite coffee mug sits in front of me. Wrinkling my brow I realize it cannot be my mug.
“Nora,” Liam says behind me. Something is wrong. He does not sound the same. My vision swims and I find it hard to stand. “Nora,” his voice comes at me, breaking my thoughts. I gingerly take the mug from the shelf and inspect it. The chip in the handle, the crack in the glaze underneath. The inside bottom that says Good Morning Gorgeous. It is mine.
“I can explain,” he says. I spin to face him.
“How did you get this?” I ask. He has never been in my house. I have never had him over.
“I took it.” His hands grip the kitchen island. He closes his eyes and sighs.
“From my house
,” I deadpan. It is not a question.
“Yes,” he answers.
“You broke into my house?” I breathe. His shoulders tense, sending a ripple effect through his muscles down his torso.
“Before. That was before.” His eyes meet mine. Green and glimmering. Seductive and secretive. He takes a step toward me. Before?
“Before what?” I ask and put my hands up to stop him from approaching.
He stops mid step. “Before we started dating. Before I fell for you.”
“You ... stalked me?” I ask, as the pieces fall into place. He nods his head. I squeeze the mug in my hands. “Curious about the freak from the mountain?” I spit out. “Curious about how fucked up the captive might be?”
“No. Not really.” He shakes his head.
“Then why?” I demand.
“Curious about my brother’s taste in women.” I inhale slowly. Time freezes. My body goes cold. Confusion must be evident, because Liam continues, though I do not want his words. “Holden Douglas Lockwood was my brother. Laura was my sister.”
Those green eyes. Those scars on his scalp. The jaw line. The need for pain. Click. Click. Click. My brain crackles like a live wire. I want to scream. I want to see Holden. Grief muddles my thoughts. I have offended Holden even in death. I have made a gross error.
“There is no reason left for you to stay.” I point toward the door. Tears well in my eyes. My body begins to tremble.
“Nora, you’re at my house.”
Rage sweeps through me. I drop the mug. I barely notice the sound of shards of ceramic bouncing on the tile. My hands encircle Liam’s neck. I scream like a wild woman. Like a feral animal. My heart; tormented. Liam does not fight back. He does not restrain me. He does not do anything. My words are garbled. My brain cannot make sense of what is coming from my mouth. I claw at him. At his face. At his heart. At flesh. I am panting with exertion when my arms drop to my sides numb.
