by Dani Stowe
I’ll even let him smack me, if that’s what he needs.
“Nick, I want to touch you. I want you to touch me. I need to be touched, even if it hurts, please.”
“I can’t do that, Taloulah,” he growls, fisting the top of my ponytail to press me into him, wrapping his arm and one hand so tight at the back of my head that I can’t move, can’t escape, can’t feel anything but his crushing warmth.
“Why not?” I ask because I crave more than warmth. I want to make love to him, be under him, feel his weight on top of me as he goes in me. I want him to be my first time and every time forever, even if it hurts. “Why can’t you do this with me, Nick? I will submit to you. Be a submissive for you. Why can’t you just do with me what you do with the others?”
“Because,” his lips press into the crown of my head as he speaks, “we don’t hurt the ones we love.”
Chapter 8
Nicholas
I hold Taloulah so she can’t move. I plant my cheek heavy on the top of her head to trap her more firmly in the confined cage of my body. I love the frailty of her. The sweet soft innocence of the girl she was when I first saw her has remained mine after all this time. It makes me proud, like I’ve done my job to protect her, keep her safe, including from me.
It’s embarrassing how I feel a need to hurt myself. But when it comes to her, I always feel a need to hurt something in the same way I guess my father confused pushing past a person’s threshold for pain as a measurement of love. And dear God! Do I love her. But she doesn’t deserve my father. Taloulah doesn’t deserve the legacy of a beast. So, I’ve kept my beast locked up, though I’ve still been allowed to let him loose—to be myself—at the top of NIM where we’ve never had to grow up or face consequences.
Until now.
I’m afraid to look Taloulah in the eyes because I have no idea how we’re going to move beyond this moment. She knows the truth and unless I beat her ass to a pulp, there’s no way I’ll ever be able to make love to her the way she deserves. There’s no way I can fuck her the way I need to either, making her hurt, making her body writhe in agony. I can’t do that because I love her too much.
My mother made me say it. My mother made me promise. Right before she died.
We don’t hurt the ones we love.
Taloulah’s hands stroke up my back. Her fingertips graze against the ridges of marks made permanent to my back on the night of the fire. She dips the fingers of one hand through the waistline of my trousers.
“Lou,” I sound out with a warning tone.
She slips her other hand through the back of my trousers’ waistline as well. Her fingers graze the tops of my ass and I grow uneasy as she questions, “Can’t we just try, Nick?”
I don’t want to try. I can’t try. I’ll pulverize her to pieces until she’s bruised and sore all over and that will be before intercourse even begins!
Dear God, I want to make love to her. The thought that someone else can do that to her, for her, and without having to hurt her—it infuriates me!
I pull her arms out of my pants to step back. “And what about your fiancé?”
She pulls a strand of hair that has fallen loose from her ponytail into her mouth and bats her eyes. “Why do you care about him? Does this mean you’ll try if I call off the wedding?”
I cross my arms. “No. I already said I’m not fucking you. And I don’t care about him because I’m still going to kill him or better yet...” I look up to the ceiling so Taloulah doesn’t see the gleam in my arrogant smile. “I could gather up the geeks and gas him.”
Damn! I feel a quick slap on my face. I grab my stinging cheek and eye, as my belt lands across my feet, falling to the floor.
She just slapped me with my own belt and threw it at me. At my face!
I look her in the eyes—Taloulah’s narrowed, vicious, angry eyes. I know that look, the look of a beast ready to smack down and devour a poor soul.
So, this is what it took for Taloulah’s beast to finally emerge?
Some. Other. Motherfucker.
Ah! I duck! She’s just fucking thrown the letter opener at me, which could’ve stabbed me. What the hell?
“You fucking cunt!” I snap.
She points. “Don’t cuss at me, you fucking asshole.”
Hmm. She’s cussing and calling me names. This other fucker has already sunk his claws into my innocent girl.
I pick up my belt to loop it through my pants. “Of all the people in the world, Lou, I never thought you’d ever try to hurt me.”
“Hurt you?” she gawks. “You’re talking about killing someone or worse, giving him psychosis with NIM’s stupid,” she flails her arms in the air, “experiments and crap. So, you deserve a slap in the face. Not to mention, you’re the one who hurts me more.”
I laugh, tightening my belt at my waist. “With the exception of an occasional pat on the butt, which you asked for, by the way, I’ve never fucking touched you.”
“Exactly,” she whimpers and goes into a complete meltdown. Her shoulders shake as she hugs herself and cries, massaging her own face. “It hurts to never be touched.”
I take a breath, rubbing the back of my neck and then behind my arm where I feel a slight sting. Pulling my arm forward to twist my elbow, I notice a thin, long, blood-tinged scratch. I have no idea how I got it or where it came from but the scratch stings as bad as our conflict.
I spy Taloulah wiping her wet tears away. I hate to say I like the tears. It does mean she’s hurting in some way. I’d like to bend her over that desk with my belt in one hand and help my dick wedge into her with the other hand to make her cry more but...
We don’t hurt the ones we love.
She’s staring at me now like she knows there’s something inappropriate going on in my mind. Her eyes narrow again as if I’ve become her prey and I’d like to fix that. Show her who’s still the boss here.
Maybe, if just hurt her a little? It would be enough to...
No.
Not Lou.
Not ever.
I opt to break our uncomfortable silence before the beast decides to have his way with her. The shameful dirty thoughts I’ve had over Lou since I was fourteen, it scares even me. I fold my arms. “You wanted to resign, I accept your resignation.”
She crosses her arms, eyeing me from head to toe as she sucks up her sniffles. She shuffles with her feet for a minute before she stands straighter, collecting herself, and pulling her ponytail tighter before lifting her chin. Her face is blank. This is not the Lou I know. My Lou wears her emotions on the outside where I can always see what she’s’ thinking. She has changed.
“Fine. Whatever,” she says sternly with a slight nod and a fix of her glasses. She swings her arms to strut past me. I don’t turn around to follower her. “Goodbye, Mr. Rohr,” she mutters. I hear my door open. “Goodbye, Mr. Nine.”
Mr. Nine? She’s never called me that before. I feel sick. Wait a minute. Is this really it?
“Lou, you still haven’t answered the question. Do you love him?” I turn towards her. I need to know. I just need to know what place I still have in her mind, whether my existence still matters to her, even if it’s just a little.
Taloulah pauses and wavers. “I want you to know my fiancé plans to fuck me. Fuck me silly, he said, which is more than I’m ever going to get from the likes of you. I feel like I’ve been living on a secluded island. By myself. Alone. And the only way I’m going to escape is to behave in the same way that all these other women do, which is to fuck my way out of this place. Except I don’t want to just fuck anybody. I want to fuck somebody I love, so I must love him because I want him to fuck me. I want to get fucked.” She pulls the door wider, putting her back to me.
She wants to get fucked?
“Lou?”
She doesn’t respond.
“Taloulah?”
She steps out the door.
“Loulah!” I shout.
But. She. Keeps. Walking.
Damn, my fuc
king beast is growling. That girl needs a spank. A real one.
“Taloulah, Goddamn it! You bring that ass back here right now!”
Nothing.
She’s leaving. She’s really leaving. Running away. The last time this happened, it took four years and nearly losing my life and then a beat down before she’d even get comfortable to be within close proximity to me.
“Ah, fuuuck!” I snap and march then skip after her into the hall. Catching up, I yank her by the top of her ponytail, causing her to fall back into me where I catch her and dip her so I can wrap my hands around her back and crush her in my arms.
“Nick! That’s too tight,” she calls out, pushing on me, making my prick tingle.
“You wanna get fucked? Is that what you want? Lou, nobody fucks better than me, but I’ll have to hurt you first. So, if that’s what you want, I’ll fucking hurt you. I’ll ruin you if that’s what it’ll take to make you stay. Come. Into the Bank. Let me slap a paddle across your ass before I screw the fucking life out of you.” I grab an ass cheek hard and she gasps, arching her back.
Goddamn. Her tits perk up at me. I can see her nipples poking through her soft pink dress. I want to bite them, suck at them, pull at them. It reminds me of high school and all those girly outfits she wore, which drove me insane! Did she wear this on purpose? She should know what this attire does to me. It makes me sweat. It makes me needy. It makes me hungry. It makes me want to fuck. I specifically said her uniform is to be full coverage and only in black.
“Kiss me,” she says.
I stop ogling her heaving breasts to see the expression in her face. Her big bright eyes are evidence of the epiphany she’s just had. She thinks that if I kiss her that it will be the cure to my disease, the sickness that is my beast.
I grit my teeth. “I’m not kissing you.”
The second I kiss you, Lou, is the second you’ll really feel content to leave.
To leave me.
Like my mother did.
“Kiss me,” she says again, batting her wide eyes and wrapping her fingers behind my neck to lift her head with puckered lips.
“Lou, don’t even try it,” I warn. “I’ll whip you before I lay my lips or tongue on you.”
“Don’t be afraid, Nick. I’m not going to go anywhere if you just give me the one. Just one kiss.” She tilts her chin up, moving her lips closer.
I cover her mouth with my palm. “Don’t.”
We struggle until she pulls my hand away and runs the pad of her thumb across my forehead. My heart pounds as she slides her thumb down my face and across my lips.
“Kiss me or let me go,” she pleads.
I fist her ponytail, chomping my teeth. “I’d rather bite you and mark you like I should’ve done a long time ago.”
“Then, do it,” she scoffs and slips her thumb into my mouth.
I bite on her finger. Hard. Between my front teeth.
Instinctively, her body clenches and she yelps—her mouth opening with surprise. The steamy open cavity makes my prick swell and, although I have no intention of kissing her, I’m wondering what it would be like to fuck Taloulah’s mouth. I imagine her pretty pink petite cherry Chapstick-covered lips wrapped tight around my shaft. My imagination is going wild with the thought of her warm, wet, slick-with-spit tight lips going over my nine-inch dick—in and out, in and out, until her glasses are half way crooked off her face and she’s grimacing and gagging, choking on loads of my cum until its leaking from the corners of her mouth...
Taloulah tries to kiss me.
Damn this woman! She’s more opportunistic than I’ve ever seen her behave before. I instinctively retract, turning my head away, standing up straight, and then putting her straight as well before I let go.
“Nick,” she exasperates, “I know you want to kiss me. I could see it in your face just now. Don’t you want to kiss me? Please, just kiss me, Nick.” Taloulah’s tongue hangs like a good little pet waiting in anticipation of whatever treat I might have in hand but I have nothing except my own hunger, a hunger to choke, gag, and hurt her.
“I’m not remotely interested in kissing you.”
“Not interested in kissing me?” she repeats, hugging herself. “No touching me either. Is that right?”
“That’s right,” I confirm. “You and I are not meant to kiss or touch.”
A frown appears down her face. “And no fucking me like you do everyone else, is this also true?”
“I can’t.” I shrug my shoulders. “I can’t make that happen with you.”
She swallows before she nods with a pout.
Perhaps, she finally understands. I love her, which means I can’t hurt her. I can’t hurt the one I love, so we can never be intimate. But I still want to be with her.
“Do you understand me now, Lou? I have needs but, more than anything, I also need someone who understands me and doesn’t just want to fuck with me.” Someone who loves me. “There’s only one girl in all the world who can do that and that’s you. I just want to be myself with you. Can I continue to be myself with you?”
“You can—”
A bell dings and we both turn towards the sound of the elevator doors opening when a beautiful woman steps out.
“Well, hello Mr. Nine,” she smiles, swinging her long arms as she struts her long legs in golden stilettos. Her body shimmers, like she’s lotioned it with gold dust, making it sparkle as much as her golden hair and gold dress wrapped tight around her trim body and propped breasts.
I blush. I’m excited to see this girl. Not only does she like it rough, but she can handle almost anything I swing at her. All this tension with Taloulah has got me completely fired up and I need an outlet right now before I snatch up Taloulah and drag her into the Bank. I know Taloulah thinks that’s what she wants. Taloulah thinks she wants in the Bank, but my Lou can barely handle a little trip on her heels before she starts crying.
Awkward. I suddenly feel awkward when I feel Taloulah’s gaze on me like I’ve just done something really stupid, which I don’t understand since Taloulah just told me I can be myself with her again.
“Hey, handsome.” The finely dressed female wraps an arm around my back then plants a kiss on my neck. She looks down at Taloulah, who is shorter than both of us. “That’s a cute dress,” my submissive smiles genuinely.
“Thank you,” mumbles Taloulah though her face has paled so I give a cheery nod.
“I like the whole nerd thing.” My sub points in a circle at Taloulah. “That really works for you, doesn’t it?”
“Um... I guess.” Taloulah fixes her glasses.
The stunning woman turns to me. “What do you think of my dress, Mr. Nine?”
“You look beautiful,” I smile as I’m so ready to take Beauty back to the Bank to play with the Beast.
“Huh,” Taloulah huffs, like she’s pissed but when I look back into her face, she doesn’t look pissed at all. She has a different look. It’s a look I’ve never seen on her before but I have seen elsewhere. Taloulah has the look of those geeks—Elliot, Jax, and Don—whenever they’ve had an experimental breakthrough or figured out the answer to one of their formulas. A lightbulb has gone off in Taloulah’s head. She’s most definitely figured something out. It worries me.
“What’s going on, Lou?”
She laughs at herself. “I finally figured it out.”
I pull my submissive’s hands free of me and reach for Taloulah, but my Lou steps away. “Figured what out?”
“Why you keep me around.” She scoots further back as our eyes lock.
“And why is that?” I swallow, taking a step towards her in hopes I can latch onto her.
“Because I validate your existence. Without me, Nick, you’re nothing but a monster. That’s why you won’t touch me or hurt me or try anything with me. You need me to remind you that you’re still a sweet boy. That you’re not you’re father. And I’m sure it’s easy for you to avoid contact with me because I’m not like them.” Taloulah’s eyes gloss over
my submissive. “I’m not beautiful like they are.”
“Whoa, hold on a minute.” I put my hands up. “Lou, you got it all wrong.”
“Wrong?” she chortles with a smirk. “Isn’t that the most oxymoronic thing you’ve ever heard—how someone like me, a total nerd, could be so wrong. I graduated at the top of my class, ranking even higher than the members of NIM, but yet somehow I turned out to be the biggest failure.”
Chapter 9
Taloulah
I don’t know how I manage, but I do. I turn my back on Nick and march forward. He starts arguing with the beautiful woman standing next to him. I feel foolish. In the past, I would’ve died to listen in, taking a front seat to witness the drama that was Nick’s life.
I push the button to the elevator, clasp my hands behind my back, and peer down to see the pointy tips of my pink heels as I wait. I think I hear Nick calling my name but I try to drown him out with thoughts of pink peonies and fluffy pink raspberry cake covered in white almond and amaretto buttercream frosting. All of which I’ve already chosen for my wedding day tomorrow.
It’s a shame I couldn’t invite Nick to the wedding. The rest of NIM will be there, of course, because they are the only friends I have and I know they are true friends after keeping my wedding secret from their boss, the Dark Lord.
The elevator doors open. Nick shouts louder. I glide between the heavy metal doors, then hastily push on the button that will take me to the lobby. A sense of relief washes over me as the doors begin to close and I pull off my glasses to wipe the remnants of salty tears from under my eyes. My glasses hit the floor when I’m shocked to see a hand spear between the doors just about to seal shut.
Fingers wiggle and the doors come open to reveal Nick, more sweaty and red than he was after he beat himself with his own belt earlier. His chest is rising in waves and the veins in his neck and biceps are bulging.
“Get out,” he says, his biceps flexing to spread the doors open.
I fix my sights on the lobby button and the door-close button and push on them both repeatedly, again and again, with each thumb.
