Feeling White

by Charlotte E Hart

  He rounded the corner, threw her down the bed and brought his fingers up to his face as she rapidly crawled backwards towards the headboard. She was magnificent in her animalistic sneer as she hovered on all fours and panted from fighting him, her fingers still grabbing onto the sheets as if she might rip it to shreds any minute. It was taking everything he had not to climb on that bed and fuck the living hell out of her. Everything ached with need as her eyes drilled into him again and beckoned the desire that he was trying to dampen.

  His phone suddenly beeped in his pocket and her eyes shot to his pocket, which was close to his cock. More visions swam of those lips doing exactly what they were designed to do so he licked his lips and raised a brow at her.

  “Not a fucking hope, White. You’ve got no right to-” He was across the room so quick she didn’t have a chance to move. It was just what he needed to start the process.

  Grabbing her by the ankles, he flipped her over onto her stomach and placed his knee into her lower back so he could hold her still. Then reaching for the drawer, he grasped the tape and grabbed at her arms, which were scrabbling around for some sort of purchase. She hadn’t got a chance. He was too quick at this, too fast, too many years doing exactly this because this was what he needed, the fear.

  “I’ve got every right, Elizabeth. I’ll do as I please.”

  “Alex, get the fuck off me,” she screamed into the sheets as he pulled her elbows together behind her back. Three wraps of black tape around them and she was still struggling beautifully, then she abruptly stopped and stilled under him. He chuckled at her response. As good as she was at reading him, behaving wasn’t going to get her a damn thing this time round. This was completely different.

  He hauled her up and yanked her to the end of the bed then reached for the intercom.

  “Phillip, take off as soon as you like.”

  “Sir, you’re not buckled in and-”

  “Get this fucking plane off the ground.”

  The pitch of the engines changed around them as he watched her reaction to what was happening in the room. She looked nervous again. Her anger had dissipated to some degree and her lips were slightly parted in expectation. There was no arousal that he could see, only a slightly anxious twisting of her body as she tried her hardest not to look at him and flicked her eyes to the door again. He took off his jacket and shirt and casually tossed them onto the bed as he sat into the leather chair and looked across at her. His phone beeped again, reminding him of the incoming message, so he reached for it and pulled up the text.

  - Of course, dear boy. I assume you’re ready to be honest.

  Well, it seemed the man did know what he needed. How did he know that shit? He glanced over at her again and noticed her inching away from him to the other side of the bed. Where the hell she thought she was going was completely unknown.

  He chuckled at her. She looked damn good nervous, always had. Not nearly as intoxicating as when she was happy and in love, but fear still suited her well. It heightened every carnal plea inside his body to give in to itself and show her exactly what his hands were capable of.

  “Look at me,” he said. She shifted sideways and tried to contain her balance as the plane increased its speed and the front wheels lifted off the tarmac.

  “I... I don’t want to. I don’t know who you are right now.”

  “No, you don’t. But you wanted to know, didn’t you? So that’s why we’re here.”

  Her head turned back towards him slowly as she presumably got the drift of what he was trying to say, those lovely lips of hers gently parting as she gazed at him with interest.

  “And this is your random fucking way of telling me something?”

  “No, of showing you someone, of teaching you.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him and moved her arms around again. They were probably hurting by now. He’d bound them too tight, purposefully. She would definitely understand pain by the end of this flight and hopefully be a step closer to grasping his idea of normal, of the years of abuse. Not the beauty of pain in submission, which she revelled in, but the never ending hurt of being assaulted.

  “Alex, please, we don’t have to do this. Just take this off and we can talk about-” He cut her off by standing and retrieving a knife from the drawer. She wasn’t getting it. Talking about this wasn’t going to help. “What is... What’s that? Why have you got a knife?” she asked as her eyes shot to his again.

  He shoved her harshly until she landed on her back on the bed and then grabbed the bottom of her dress as he looked up into surprised eyes.

  “Ask me again,” he said quietly as he cut the dress at the hem and watched the blade slice through the black silk. She squirmed away a little. “And I suggest you keep still.”

  “What?” she replied, as the material creaked under the strain of the tear and he slid it up a few more inches past her knee. “Alex, please. I don’t know... Stop, please.”

  “You asked me a question earlier today. I want you to ask me that question again.”

  Her eyes refocused on the blade as she tried yet again to back away as it got closer and closer to her thigh. His cock hardened instantly at the thoughts now racing around his mind at her wide eyes and heavy breathing, and that delicious gasp of panic at the cold steel brushing against her skin only intensified every need consuming him

  “I have no idea... Alex? Oh my god, what are you...?” She gasped again and became completely still as the blade sliced its way across the silk by her naked clit. Try as he might, he couldn’t stop the need to push the flat of the blade against her, to let her feel it on her skin. The cold metal touching something so hot, probably needy regardless of her situation, must have been confusing as hell.

  “Think, Elizabeth,” he whispered as he rubbed it again and then tried to shake himself free of the current mind fog she was placing him in. Christ, what he wouldn’t give to just forget this whole thing and move on to fucking her, slowly. Her small moan at the pressure really wasn’t helping him maintain any control so he quickly sliced the rest of the dress straight past her breasts and up to her throat.

  She recoiled from the blade at her neck and stared at him in shock as that nervous fear flew across her face again, eyes now wide and glistening again as her lips trembled. He damn near exploded in his pants like a fucking teenager.

  “Do you... Do you mean the date thing?” she asked hesitantly as she tipped her chin away from the blade. “Alex, please, I don’t like what you’re doing here.”

  “Yes,” he replied as his mouth unconsciously found its way to her jaw and licked its way upwards towards her ear. Fuck, she smelled good, and that trembling was beginning to radiate across her body as she flicked her eyes away from him and squirmed again. He growled at himself and pushed his cock into her thigh as desire reigned and began to strip away the last shred of decency he was clawing onto.

  “Alex, I-”

  “Just fucking ask me,” he sneered as that calm descended and began to tear every preference from him, every thought, every need boiling to uncontainable. Shit, he needed to back away from this. She wasn’t ready. What the fuck was he doing? He loved her, and was now scaring her, on purpose. Presumably that wasn’t fucking normal but it couldn’t be helped. This was the only way to make her see. Her eyes narrowed slightly. Maybe she was ready.

  “Okay, if that’s what you want. What happened on the 22nd of June, 2005?”

  He stilled as the words fell from her lips and closed his eyes. There was no getting away from it now. She’d asked and he was going to answer, truthfully. Every feeling connected with the acts was going to be heard, whether she wanted to hear it or not. With a sigh, he slowly removed his hand until the blade moved safely from her throat and kissed the very spot it had been lying against. His lips lingered as he tried to convey for the last time the depth of passion he had for her, the need.

  He slowly peeled himself from the bed and watched her eyes following him away as he backed up towards the chair and sat do
wn again. She wriggled her body upwards until she was leaning against the headboard and staring back at him, still with narrowed eyes. He almost chuckled at the fact that all fear had apparently disappeared at the thought of information. Only she could dismiss the situation she was in to find out more about the man she loved.

  He gazed at her for one last moment as he memorised the look on her lovely face, the face he’d probably never see again in the same light once she knew. Beauty, innocence and love radiated across it, that halo still firmly imprinted around her as she looked at him with adoration still pouring off her regardless of her circumstances.

  “It’s okay, Alex. Tell me. I told you I wouldn’t run,” she said quietly as she tilted her head and smiled softly. Unlikely this time round, not that she was going to have a choice in the matter. He noticed her twitching her shoulders and frowned at the thought of the tape. She shouldn’t be bound for this, should she? Why did he think she should? She should be free to attack him if she chose to. He deserved her viciousness if she wanted to give it. That’s what he wanted from her, wasn’t it? Absolution, some sort of acceptance. He abruptly stood and moved his way behind her so that he could slice the tape off again and peel it from her skin. She looked instantly confused again but rubbed at her arms as he dropped the knife down on the bed in front of her and wandered back to the chair. Her eyes glanced at the knife by her knee and then back at him as she shuffled her way out of the remains of her dress. Utter perfection sat before him, her knees tucked up as she rested on one hand and kicked off her heels. That creamy skin called to him. Oh Christ, how it called to him, her love, her acceptance, her need for him.

  “Pick it up,” he said. She shook her head and scowled at it.

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Just pick it up, feel the weight of it, get used to it in your hand.”

  She gingerly moved her hand to the steel and clasped onto the black rubber handle. It wasn’t a big knife, just another switchblade, not much bigger than a large penknife really, but it was still good enough to kill with. His fingers itched as he watched her turn it over in her hands with a small shrug of her shoulders and caught her lips reflected back at him from the blade.

  “I don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me. I don’t even know why you’ve got a knife, let alone why you-“

  “I killed two men on that day - one with a knife, the other with my hands.”

  Her eyes shot back up to his in complete shock so he held them firm. This was real. She needed to know this now. Her mouth opened and then closed again as she still stared. There was no gasp, no scream, no disgust, no running, just shock. Was it the actual words he’d said or the meaning behind them? He couldn’t read a goddamn thing that was flashing across her face because other than shock, it was completely blank. “So, we are going to spend a few days learning about who you’ve fallen in love with. I will be completely honest about who I am, or rather have been, and you will keep that with you at all times,” he said as he nodded at the blade. “If you feel the need to use it at any point, feel free to do so. I won’t stop you. Neither will anyone else. I told you you had my throat, and I meant it. It’s yours to do with as you wish.”

  Her mouth opened again as her eyes returned to her hand. Those elegant fingers that gripped the hilt tightened and then let go altogether and he watched it tumble onto the sheets again.

  “Hands made for butchery,” she mumbled as she stared down at the blade. A small smile crossed his lips. He couldn’t have put it better himself.

  “You wanted the truth. Now you have it,” he said as he crossed his legs and let his eyes caress her body, every inch of it perfection, flawless, unadulterated exquisiteness.

  “I just wanted you,” she replied softly, still looking at the blade. “To understand why and try to...” She stopped talking as her eyes welled in tears and her body seemed to curl up into small ball.

  “Then you shall have me, in my entirety. If you still want me by the end of this, that is. But you’re not going to like any of it so you may as well be prepared for who you’re about to see.”

  She scowled at the knife again and edged away until she was far enough away from it to tentatively kick it onto the floor beside the bed. Clearly she wasn’t that enamoured by the object, not something he understood in the slightest.

  “I’d like to be alone for a while,” she said as she crawled her way under the sheets and pulled them up to her shoulders, her attempt, no doubt, at trying to end the conversation so she could process the information he’d just delivered, more than likely trying to find an excuse for his behaviour and give herself time to dismiss it.

  That wasn’t how this was going to work. She needed to hear it all, to feel it deep down in her soul and understand, to feel him for what he really was. This wasn’t a case of naughty boy syndrome, or even screwed up adolescence. No, he was a murderer and a sadist, and while he’d done it all for varying reasons pertaining to an abused childhood, they weren’t enough to absolve it.

  He’d never asked for nor needed absolution before now, but at the moment, he was desperate for it. If she chose not to forgive him, his world would mean nothing without her in it. She could use that damn blade and cut the heart right out of him for all he cared, but she’d do it after he’d given it his all, after she’d seen it all and understood the very depths of his tortured fucking soul.

  “Try, Nicholas. Reach for me and try to win the game, boy. One day you’ll have learnt a lesson from this and remember who taught you how to live, who showed you how you’d need to be to achieve anything of worth.”

  Daddy fucking dearest.

  He stood up with a sneer at the memory and moved over to the bed to look at her face. Still angelic as she lay there with her eyes closed, seemingly at peace with that red hair tumbling around her cheeks and her legs tucked up into her stomach. He reached for the cover and slowly pulled it down her body to reveal her skin again and sighed at what was about to come.

  Love… He mouthed the word to himself, a word to absorb all the revulsion and banish it to the furthest corners of his mind again. Could the feeling break through the hate he was about to create for her?

  Christ, he hoped so, because there was no point living without her now.

  THE END... FOR NOW

  THE WHITE TRILOGY CONTINUES

  With

  Absorbing White

  Final book in the trilogy

  By

  Charlotte E Hart

  Https://www.amazon.com/dp/B017J7CJT6

  Acknowledgements

  There is one person I have to thank for putting up with my constant keyboard tapping every evening and it’s my wonderful partner. I love you, more than words can say.

  Without your support through the last year or so, I couldn’t have achieved any of this and you’ll never understand how much that means to me. But hopefully, if you look inside the characters, you’ll find a bit more of me that you’ve allowed to open up and free itself from its box.

  Me x

  To all the blogs that have supported, helped, guided and forged a path for me, I love you all, without reservation. However, special mentions go out to:

  Orchard Book Club, Rachel Brightey.

  Bound by Books Book Reviews, Rachel Hill.

  And of course, you guys. Anyone who has read the second part of this story and enjoyed it is warmly thanked and acknowledged as super wonderful. I hope you’ve enjoyed the further journey of my characters and if they’ve resonated with you in some way, be it small or large then I’ve achieved my goal, which was to provoke thought and entertain you.

  CEH x

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