by Ophelia Grey
I looked up at Blake’s face, not knowing what to expect from him anymore. His face was still emotionless, but I could see him clasping his hands so tightly his knuckles were turning white.
“You had no right.” His voice was strangled. His steady, calm façade was crumbling and I didn’t know what to do.
“I know.” I looked up into his face, searching for the real Blake Harrison behind his steely mask. “I’m sorry Blake.” I felt myself choking on my words, and I reached up at Blake, wanting to touch him, to make him understand. “I just needed to understand you, understand why you shut me out. I wanted to know how to help you.”
Blake’s cold mask slipped and I saw the sadness in the corners of his eyes. He hesitated and I could see the emotions fighting inside him. I twisted my hair tightly in my fingers, waiting to see what Blake would decide.
“I understand that this has all been difficult for you. I didn’t want to tell you the truth. I’m a damaged man, Grace. You are so young, and sweet, and pure. You shouldn’t stay here with me. I’ll destroy you.” Blake’s face had crumpled into despair and it hurt my heart to look at him.
“You won’t destroy me. Nothing that happened was your fault.” I reached out and grabbed his hand in my own.
Blake squeezed my hand and pulled me up towards him. “You are too good, Grace. You deserve a fairytale, not being stuck in my messed up, twisted story.” He hugged me tightly, stroking my long hair.
“You deserve a fairytale too. I’m sorry your first one fell apart.” I looked up into his chiseled, angular face and pressed my lips to his. He kissed me back gently, his warm lips softly pressing against mine.
“I loved her once, you know,” he whispered. “She was a wild, beautiful, talented artist. She had mood swings, but overall, we were happy.”
I nodded, looking into his deep emerald eyes, which glistened with unshed tears as he spoke.
“And then her mood swings got worse and worse until she had turned into a different person. After she had our son, she just descended into madness. She would rant about salvation and the lord. I begged her to get help, but she refused. So I ignored the problem. I threw myself into work, building the Harrison Media empire while my wife withered away. When I came home, she would scream and tell me that I was the devil, that I was poisoning our children’s souls. So I rarely came home. And then one day, I came home and she was cov…” He struggled to continue, a single tear finally making its way down his tortured face. “Covered in our children’s blood. I should have been there… I should have known what was happening and stopped it, but I wasn’t.”
Blake Harrison finally let go of his stone mask and his face twisted into complete sadness. I hugged him tightly as he shook, finally letting the emotions that he had kept locked away pour out as we held each other tightly.
“You couldn’t have known. What happened was a tragedy, but it was not your fault. You deserve happiness Blake.” I pulled back to look at him and he looked back at me with those intense green eyes.
“I love you, Grace.” He said the words so gently that I was worried I had imagined them. “I love you. I love you.” This time he said it more loudly as a smile spread over his face. The sadness disappeared from the corners of his eyes as he spoke.
“I love you too,” I whispered back, realizing for the first time that it was true. I had never really known what true, romantic, complicated, twisted love was before now, but this was what I had always been missing.
He pressed his lips hard against mine, pulling me up against his chest so tightly that I could feel his heart pounding. His hands wove through my hair, gripping it tightly and pulling my head back so I was looking up at him. His eyes flashed dark with passion that melted me to my core.
“Make love to me,” I moaned into his neck. “I want to feel you inside of me. Fuck me harder than you’ve ever fucked anyone.”
“Be careful what you wish for, Grace,” he whispered warningly.
“I don’t want to be careful,” I replied with an excitedsmile.
Blake Harrison gave me a look that made me wonder if I knew what I was in for, but before I could protest he pushed me hard against the wall. My back slammed against the wall, knocking the breath right out of me. I gasped, but Blake Harrison did not give me the time to catch my breath before he pushed his hand up my skirt, his fingers searching out the thin fabric covering my wet slit. He quickly pulled at it, ripping it open with the strength of his fingers.
“You are already so wet for me, my sweet little Grace,” he groaned as his fingers pressed against my slippery slit, already coated in my juices. “You’re all ready for me to fuck you.”
He reached down and grabbed the back of my thighs, pulling them up around his waist in one swift pull of his muscular arms. He yanked down the zipper of his pants and freed his erect cock from the confines of his silk boxers. His hard cock was poised at my tight entrance and with one quick thrust he burst inside of me, filling me up with his long, thick shaft.
I wrapped my legs tightly around him, pulling him even deeper inside of me. I wanted to be fucked senseless and I knew that Blake Harrison could do just that.
He pumped inside me, hard and fast, slamming me against the wall with each thrust of his hips. His cock pushed deep inside me, sending sparks into my core with each hard thrust.
I could feel my pleasure building fast. The lack of oxygen from being pushed so hard against the wall made me feel dizzy in a way that intensified my pleasure. I could only focus on the hard pounding of Blake Harrison’s cock inside me as he fucked me senseless. I heard myself screaming incoherently before I even realized what I was doing.
My body was shaking, exploding in an intense orgasm as Blake Harrison pulled his cock from inside me and sprayed his streams of warm, creamy cum over my thighs. I gripped him tightly, feeling the waves of pleasure shoot through me and gently subside as the last drops of cum fell from Blake’s cock.
In exquisite contrast to how violently he fucked me, Blake gently eased my body to the ground, with sweet and gentle care.. I realized that I loved both sides of Blake Harrison. He might always be tortured and torn, he might always be inconsistent and confusing, but I loved every part of this contradictory, problematic man.
Chapter 10.
I pulled the blankets tighter around me. It was a cold and dreary Monday in November, but I had to get up soon because I had agreed to go into the city and meet with a potential client.
After the success of the Harrison Media launch party, several high profile executives had reached out to me about contracting my assistance with their own events. I had to turn down most of them because I was busy working for Blake Harrison, but my work had slowed down a bit recently and Blake had convinced me that I should branch out and see what I could accomplish.
Today, I was meeting with a top executive at an edgy new fashion magazine who wanted my help planning their annual Christmas bash. I needed to get up and get ready because I was meeting her in Manhattan in the early afternoon.
Groaning, I pulled the warm comforter off me and placed my feet on the chilly wood floors. I quickly dashed into the bathroom and turned the shower handle so that steaming hot water cascaded down. Slipping out of my pajamas, I glanced in the mirror and noticed the bruises on my ass from my most recent romp with Blake Harrison.
We had been in his office on Friday discussing an ad campaign until late into the evening. At some point, we realized we were the only two people left in the office and that was when things got a little out of hand. We ran around the office trying to fuck against every desk and conference table. Blake Harrison had fucked me so hard that some of the desk’s hard edges had left long, dark bruises on my pale ass.
I smiled as I slipped under the hot water, reliving those hot scenes in my mind. Blake Harrison might still be a confusing man to love, but he sure knew how to fuck me. He could play my body like it was a well-tuned musical instrument, plucking each string until I exploded in waves around him. He was the maste
r musician that every instrument longed for.
After my shower, I quickly dressed in my sharpest tailored blush Prada dress and taupe jacket with small ruffles at the hems. I was finally getting used to wearing designer clothes, although I was pretty sure I would never get rid of the sticker shock when I spied the price tags. Blake Harrison loved to spoil me with fancy outfits though, and I loved exploring new styles as my fashion sense evolved.
I grabbed a bagel from the kitchen, giving Jane a quick wave while she slowly sipped her coffee, and rushed out to where the driver was waiting for me by the front door. Blake Harrison had insisted that I take his personal car and driver since he wanted to be sure I would be safe and he would be working from his home office for the day.
“You sure look professional,” the wrinkled old driver greeted me as I rushed out the door, holding my heels in one hand and by purse and bagel in the other.
“Thanks! Sorry, I’m running late again.” I slid into the back seat and wiped the bits of gravel off my feet.
“No problem,” the driver replied with his usual, crinkly smile. He knew my habit of oversleeping and rushing out the door at the last moment.
As we drove the familiar roads into the city, I looked over the papers the client had sent me, chomped down on my warm, chewy bagel while trying to ignore the lack of cream cheese, and chatted with the driver about his plans for the day. He would be waiting in the city for my call, so his plan was to visit the Natural History Museum.
“Oh, that’s such a great idea! I would love to go there and to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I need to talk to Blake Harrison about a sightseeing trip.” I realized that I had only ever been to the city for business and hadn’t really had a chance to explore yet. Maybe Blake would give me a tour of his favorite places if I asked.
We pulled up to a skyscraper in the heart of the financial district and I quickly gathered my purse and rushed to make it on time to my meeting. I reached the lobby just two minutes before 2:00, and with a slow elevator ride I was still only a minute late to meet the executive.
A beautiful blonde woman in a strappy red dress and black stiletto boots covered in metal spikes met me with a big smile.
“Hi, you must be Grace. I’m Emilia. Nice to finally meet you in person.”
“Nice to meet you,” I replied, returning her surprisingly strong handshake.
Emilia chatted away as she led me to a conference room table and showed me her ideas for a glamorous, extravagant holiday party. I helped her come up with a centralized theme and we worked through an outline of what would be done in the coming weeks. I promised to create some mock-ups and contact vendors before our next meeting.
I walked back out into the chilly Manhattan air and realized that the meeting had gone much more quickly than I had anticipated. I had informed Blake Harrison that I probably wouldn’t be home until later at night, but it was only early evening. I gave the driver a quick call and he was ready to go, so I decided to return home early and surprise Blake.
“You sure you don’t want me to call ahead and let him know you’ll be back early?” the driver asked me dubiously as we pulled down the small, rustic roads that led to the Harrison Estate.
“I would like to surprise him,” I responded, leaving out the fact that I might sneak up to my room and change into some sexy lingerie first.
We pulled into the Harrison Estate as the last rays of sunlight were fading on the horizon, bathing the mansion in their soft orange glow that was slowly fading to indigo. I instructed the driver to pull around to the side entrance so that Blake wouldn’t see me coming.
The antique lamps flickered in the hallway as I silently slipped up the stairs, winding my way through the less-traveled halls to reach my bedroom. As I approached the back stairwell, I heard a strange wailing sound, punctuated by the sound of breaking glass echoing through the otherwise silent mansion.
I rushed towards the sound, which seemed to be coming from the far end of the hallway, near Blake’s office. I turned the corner and heard a loud whacking sound coming from inside his office.
“Blake?” I called out as I pushed the door open.
It was dark, except for a small light from the fireplace, which flickered with the last dying embers. I could make out a dark figure outlined against the faint, flickering orange glow by the fireplace. The figure was still for a moment, and then dropped something crumpled into the fire and moved swiftly towards me.
“Blake?” I repeated nervously as he drew close. The smell of harsh whiskey filled my nostrils as he swept towards me.
He pushed me hard against the wall, his strong hands holding my arms in place, then moving up to clutch at my throat.
I tried to cry out, to yell at him to stop, but the sound came out as a strangled gurgle under the pressure of his strong palm on my throat.
“You evil little devil,” he hissed in my ear, his words slurred clumsily together. “You took everything from me and you had the fucking nerve to say it was for God? Why don’t I just send you to him now and see what he’s got to say about you?”
The hand on my throat snaked tighter, fingers digging into the soft flesh. I gasped for breath, looking desperately for Blake’s face in the darkness. My vision grew blurry as my throat constricted. I knew I had to act before he killed me. In desperation, I kicked out blindly. I felt and heard the crack of my foot against his shinbone as the hand released from my throat.
Blake groaned and fell to the floor as I leaned against the wall and gasped for breath. I could see him rocking on the floor, but it was still too dark to make out his face, to see if he would come at me again.
“Blake, it’s me, Grace,” I croaked, rubbing at my throat. “You were hurting me. I had to stop you.”
I reached my hand across the wall until I felt the light switch and quickly pulled it up. The room illuminated, revealing Blake Harrison sitting on the floor and looking up at me in horror. My eyes swept over the room, taking in the open bottle of whiskey and the box of photographs spilling onto his desk.
I knelt down next to Blake, reaching my hand out tentatively to touch his arm. He recoiled from my touch, shrinking away from me with the same look of horror on his face.
“What have I done? Oh God, what have I done?” he cried out in an agonized voice as he stared down at his hands.
“It was an accident, Blake,” I tried to say soothingly, but I could hear the tremor of fear in my own voice.
“I almost killed you,” he continued in a stunned voice. “You were supposed to be out still. I…I was drinking and looking over these pictures and it was all coming back to me. I thought you were her. Something came over me. I would have killed you.”
“You would have stopped. You would never have killed me.” I realized the uncertainty in my voice as I spoke the words. Would he have killed me? “And either way, I’m fine. You didn’t kill me.” I smiled weakly at him, trying to reach out for his hand once more.
“Go!” he spat as he pulled further away, his face twisted in agony. “I’m not good for you. I will kill you, or at best, destroy your innocence and sweetness. This was always a bad idea. I need you to leave.”
I felt my heart pounding hard in my chest as Blake Harrison pulled further away from me. I needed to show him that everything would still be fine. “I’m not leaving,” I said quietly. “I love you.”
“I don’t want your love. You are a child. A little country girl. Go home, Grace. Leave me. Now!” He screamed the words, spitting them at me like venom as his face twisted into a new mask of anger and hatred.
I turned and ran out of his office, flying through the halls until I reached my bedroom and slammed the door behind me. I crumpled onto the floor, finally allowing my tears to flow freely down my cheeks as I wept with fear and sadness, for Blake Harrison and for myself. The tears flowed silently at first, but turned into low strangled sobs as I curled up on my bed and cried myself to exhaustion.
Chapter 11.
I woke up to a pounding head
ache and a sore neck. The sun pouring into my bedroom window was painfully bright, and at first I thought I must have had a terrible handover. Those first few seconds of wakefulness were blissful compared to the horrible memories that quickly came flooding back, crushing the air from my lungs all over again.
I pulled myself out of bed and made my way to the full-length mirror, twinging in pain as I moved my sore neck. I took a deep breath and turned to examine my reflection. I winced, noting the reddish purple bruises forming on my neck. The damage wasn’t too bad; it was something I could easily cover with makeup. The worst part was just my overall disheveled appearance. After an aspirin and a shower, I would feel much better.
Furiously, I combed my knotted hair in the warm, steamed-up bathroom, slowly working through the knots while I replayed the night’s scene in my head. Blake Harrison was clearly hurting, and perhaps it was my fault. I had been the one to dredge up those haunting memories by visiting Lily and looking into his past. But I couldn’t help but feel a tendril of fear constricting in my heart. I had never realized that Blake was capable of hurting me, even if it was fueled by alcohol and confusion.
