TouchStone for ever (The Story of Us Trilogy) (12 page)

I hold him off with
my hand on his shoulder. “Do you think you can love me like that?” I ask,
hesitantly.

“Yes. I can.”

“And why should I
trust you?”

“Because it’s true. I
never …”

“… Lie,” I call out,
completing his sentence, lowering my hand from his shoulder and placing it on a
firm pectoral muscle. “Then I trust you to take care of me.”

“It would be my
pleasure. Although I fear six months may pass much too quickly.”

“Six months is a long
time.”

He shakes his head.
“If time were an ocean, Beth, our six months together would be no more than a
ripple on an endless sea.”

“Would it be that
insignificant?” I ask, slighted by his analogy.

“Not insignificant at
all; merely imperceptible to humanity, but attested to by me.”

“And that’s all that
matters, right?”

He lowers his head,
preparing to conclude our discussion. “You know the answer to that question.”

“Yes. But I won’t
change for you; I can’t be someone I’m not.” I draw my forefinger across the
chest hair that I have longed to touch for the past hour. “You’ll have to take
me as you find me.”  The second the words leave my mouth I regret them.

He smiles broadly and
it’s so contagious, I find my giggle. It had become lost; I’d slipped it into a
back pocket never expecting to rediscover it. Yet … here it is.

“I don’t have an
issue with that,” he replies, charming me further with a wide stare that only
complements the roguish smirk.

“You didn’t really
want to be tied up did you?” I venture to ask.

“No. It would have
been a first, I must admit.”

“But you were
prepared to do that, to put me at ease?”

“Yes.”

“That’s what Ayden
did.” I turn away, reliving the memory.

Gently, he turns my
face to him. “Don’t go there. Stay here, with me. I want you. I want to make
love to you, and I want to know what it is to be inside you, Beth; so deep
you’re too breathless to even call my name.”

Fuck!

All I can do is
tremble, either with fear or anticipation, or a hot fusion of both. Without
saying a word, I slip my hand around his neck, weaving my fingers through soft
curls; I pull him to me until I am cloaked in his lethal shadow, drawn to his
beauty and craving his love.

His mouth finds mine.
It’s moist and as I remember it - the texture, the shape, the hunger.  With
everything to fight for, I will myself to relax, to touch familiar ripples of
muscles and skin; commanding trembling hands to still and feel without
hesitation, while being kissed and caressed in such a way I can’t help but
respond.

His right hand is
snaking down my body, coming to rest on my panties, positioning me beneath him,
locking me in place. A hard and unyielding erection presses into my groin and I
clinch involuntarily, feeling the friction of hard flesh brushing against me.
His knees sink to the mattress, parting me and I endure the heat of his
muscular torso radiating through my fingertips as his breathing quickens,
sending waves of masculine scent over my face and into my hair. He’s fanning
the smouldering embers of passion inside me, those my husband so skilfully
ignited a month ago: I am his.

There’s a sense of
urgency in his movements; I sense it. We will not be engaging in lengthy
foreplay tonight. He lacks Ayden’s patient caress, his finesse, but that’s
okay. I can donate my body; it’s for a good cause. I’ll keep my mind and my
heart under lock and key, out of reach and hidden in a place so deep and dark,
even he won’t be able to reach it. Consoled by that thought, I prepare to gift
myself to him, taking my first tentative step into that endless ocean that
stretches out before me for miles and miles …

He makes his move,
rocking and dipping his body into mine in a rhythmic embrace; his mouth finding
my breasts and his fingers feathering my thighs. Wet kisses and hard pulls on
my nipples have me groaning with pleasure and then … I become aware of
something ancient and unbidden: it’s music unlike anything I have heard before.

From somewhere and
everywhere in the room there is choral music; harmonic voices blending and
floating about my head, wrapping themselves around me like a fog.

My senses are
heightened, super-charged; I’m tingling from head to toe. I hear my own voice
and it’s like the whisper of a helpless child. “What are you doing to me?”
Before I lose myself completely, I ask again, “What’s happening to me?”

“You are becoming,
Beth…” he growls, from just below my navel.

Through heavy
breathing I ask, “Becoming what?”

He raises his head
until our eyes are locked like glistening orbs. “Becoming mine.”

His stare is so
intense it makes me shudder. Unable to turn away, I watch him descend; scraping
his noise against my inner thigh, following through with a moist tongue,
lapping at heated flesh like a primordial cat.

I call out between
his groans and arch my back, wanting him to stop, yet urging him on, my hands
fisting in his hair as his mouth seeks out the most sensitive part of my body.

Forgetting myself, I
call out, “Ayden!”

He stops,
acknowledges my cry with a devilish grin and dips his head, using his hands and
tongue to take me to the point of orgasm. Without seeking permission, he
shoulders my legs apart and proceeds to lick and suck at my clitoris until I am
writhing with need.

The music increases
in tempo, the thumping rhythm matching my heartbeat, propelling me until I am
teetering on the edge. Without warning, two forceful fingers penetrate me,
bending, teasing my sensitive internal flesh until I can take no more.

My orgasm hits me
like a flash of lightening; a roll of thunder ripples through my stomach and
explodes against his fingers making me jerk and spasm. I call out “Ayden!” loud
enough to raise the dead; then simmer down one breathless gasp at a time. The
earth-shattering brilliance fades like a comet and I hit the sheets hard,
trembling and tearful.

But this is just the
beginning …

He drags my limp and
wasted body to the edge of the bed until my legs are bent at the knees.

Barely conscious I
tip up my weary head and observe his mighty frame. He seems to have grown in
stature; muscles are flexing and glistening in the half-light of a full moon.
He’s inspecting my naked body, splayed out before him. Isn’t this what he said
he wanted, me like this?

“Now you’re ready,”
he snarls, more animal than human; alien eyes finding the light and flashing
malevolently, filling me with terror.

He takes hold of my
hips with both hands, fastening me in place, and then proceeds to raise my body
off the bed until my groin is level with his. I feel the tip of his cock like
bone against my saturated skin; he spreads me wider with his hips, taking his
time to steady himself, building anticipation before lunging into me in one
long, spearing intrusion.

I cry out.

I try to pull back
but I am ensnared, overpowered, exposed. All I can do is count the seconds and pray
they rush to form minutes …

When I look up at him
the veins in his neck are bulging and his face is contorted, unrecognisable.
Still gripped by fear I allow my body to fall limply until I am no more than an
inanimate object in his hands - a fuck doll or a corpse.

His guttural groans
lessen. Has he finished with me?

No.

“You’re not
participating, Beth,” he reminds me, as if I needed to be reminded. “If you do
not, we’ll have to keep at this for hours. You do realise that, don’t you?”

His menacing tone causes
the air in the room to chill. As heat leaves my body, so does my belief I have
the physical and emotional strength to handle this kind of humiliation.

“You’re inside me.
Isn’t that what you wanted?” I whimper, managing to hold onto some fragments of
my dignity by my fingernails.

“But that’s not true
is it?” he pushes more deeply into me. “I have your body but your mind is
elsewhere. This is a contact sport Beth, but it should involve cerebral
engagement, darling.”

His final word leaves
me icy cold. “You do what you want with me, Ayden.” I spit out my husband’s
name, knowing I’m inflaming him further.

“A courageous
invitation, but one I can’t accept.” He pulls from me roughly and takes a step
backwards, still eyeing my trembling torso. “You are beautiful in your
nakedness, you always have been.”

Always have been …

His knowing smile is
that of a man who has seen everything, but learned nothing. He places his right
hand between my legs. “Giving me this is only the start of our adventure, Beth.
I want your body, of course, but as I explained, I insist on total compliance.”

“You mean obedience?”

He tips his head to
one side. “Call it what you will. It’s your mind and your heart that escapes
me, as yet.”

I snigger at my
naivety. “Is there a single thought of mine you haven’t pilfered since our
paths crossed?”

“I have heard
everything.”

“So you lied …”

“I had no choice.”

I throw back his
words. “You always have a choice, and you chose to lie.”

He laughs softly.
“Touché. As your husband would say.”

I hate you so much
right now.

“You really are a
piece of work.”

“I’ll take that as a
compliment.” He grins, menacingly. “But I do have very particular tastes and
demands which have to be met or …” He shrugs his shoulders. “…or this adventure
may end quickly and tragically.”

I tell him with my
thoughts.
I hate you, you fucking bastard.

“Now, now. There’s no
need for profanity,” he chides, tutting and shaking his head. “A sweet young
woman like you has no need of that kind of language.” He places a coated finger
against his mouth and spreads my seeping moisture across his lips, making me
cringe. I watch as his tongue drags across glistening skin and turn away,
repulsed.

“As I said, you are
very sweet.”

Leaving me naked and
chilled to the bone, he makes his way into the bathroom. I hear the sound of
water and assume he’s showering.

I retrieve my clothes
and dress hurriedly. When he enters the bedroom I’m standing in my underwear,
illuminated by the fluorescent light shining from the bathroom. He stops in his
tracks when he sees me. I’m not sure why.

With a muted voice he
asked, “Are you going to shower?”

“Yes. I feel dirty.”
I bundle my clothes together and attempt to walk around him into the bathroom,
but, as I pass, he grabs my arm.

“I’m sorry,” he
mutters.

“It’s a little late
for that.” Freeing my arm, I push past him.

I place my clothes
down onto the counter top and turn to inspect myself. My hair is a tangled
mess; my eyes are lifeless, encircled with mascara. My throat bears the marks
of his teeth and my breasts are tender and sore. If that were not enough,
through clouded vision I settle my eyes on my hips; around them are bruises
that start at the bone and keep going until they form the shape of two powerful
thumbs at the front and fingers around the side like shackles. I lower my head
and allow gravity to take charge of my tears. One thought is on repeat in my
mind…

What did I do to
deserve this?

In an instant, Ayden
appears behind me. I flinch when I feel his hand on my shoulder and try to
shake it off. It won’t budge.

I spin around. “Look
what you did!” I gaze up into his eyes, seething breath leaving my nose in a
snort. “You think that possessing my husband’s body allows you to do whatever
you want with me? You’ll never be Ayden. He would never hurt me like this.”

He bows his head.
“Turn around and close your eyes.”

“No! You can’t magic
this away.” I try to reach around him for the shower controls. “Would you mind?
I’d like to take a shower and cleanse myself of your stench.”

He takes hold of my
hands and puts them together into a double-handed fist. “Don’t toy with me
Beth. Let me explain.”

“Don’t bother. “

“I insist.” He
tightens his grip on my hands. “The fault is mine. I had forgotten how fragile
the human body is. It’s been a while since I made love to …”

“Fucked!”

“What?” He frowns,
his eyes turning into slits that are unresponsive to light.

“You didn’t make love
to me. You fucked me.”

“But you climaxed,
didn’t you?”

“I’m not completely
without feelings. I haven’t been intimate with my husband for six days. I
missed his touch.”

“I sensed it.”

“You took advantage
of it.” I confront him head on. “Why didn’t I feel you hurting me then?
 
I
hurt everywhere now?”