Heart of Glass (25 page)

“
I’m going to bed, I’m
tired. Are you coming?”

Mark climbed in, shutting
the window behind him. The room was dark; we’d sat outside for
hours, so I grabbed his hand, leading the way. There was only one
bed. He had a curious look on his face as he examined it. Then he
squeezed my hand and pulled me towards him. I wobbled slightly and
moved away.

“
Can I sleep in your bed?”
he asked. “I won’t try anything, I promise.”

“
I was going to make you a
bed on the couch…”

He held up his hands in
surrender. “Just friends… right?”

“
Just friends.”

I led him to the tiny
sleeping area and turned on the lamp. Then I disappeared into the
bathroom calling out “make yourself at home” as I shut the door. I
ran the tap and the sound of splashing water echoed through the
flat as I washed my face. When I opened the door, Mark had taken
off his clothes and hopped into bed, resting his head in the sling
of his hands, waiting for me to return.

His eyes never left mine as
I pulled the jumper over my head and tossed my jeans aside. I was
naked except for my pants, covered in hearts. I slipped a singlet
top over my bare chest and pulling back the covers, got into bed. I
could see him watching intently, taking in my every move, every
detail of my body. It was not the way a friend looked at you. I
knew it was a bad idea, that I should be making him a bed on the
couch and I yet did nothing.

“
Remember what you
promised,” I said as I kissed his cheek, rolled over and turned out
the light.

Mark lay on his back, with
his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling and listening to
the rhythmic sound of my breath as within a matter of minutes, my
breathing slowed and I sunk into a half-sleep. I was tired. It
wasn’t a ploy to get him into bed. Through my slumber, I felt him
rolling onto his side, as he laid his hand in the curve between my
ribs and my hip. It was a gentle caress, a whisper of movement. I
didn’t move. I kept my breath deep and regular, not wanting him to
know he had roused me from near sleep.

Slowly, he began to run his
finger along the curves of my body, feeling the rise and fall of my
chest, the boniness of my hip, the fabric of my pants. It was
excruciating to lay there and ignore it as my body cried out for
him to fill me and make me complete. I imagined how my hip would
feel jutting into him as I lay beneath him. The sharp pleasure of
flesh grating against flesh. It was all I could do not to jump on
top of him in that instant but I had made a promise and I intended
to do everything in my power to keep it. Plainly, he had other
ideas.

Taking his hand further, he
moved it onto the muscles of my bottom, skimming its shape. I
almost whimpered, it felt so good, but I pressed my lips together,
determined. I could feel his erection against my leg and all I
wanted was for it to be inside me. My guilt at the feeling only
made me want it more.

Tentatively, he moved his
body closer so that we lay spooning, making it all the more
difficult for me to go on pretending. He must have known I was
awake as his hand crept up, cupping my breast. The skin of his
fingers were as soft as a baby’s and I stirred, moving against him
with my back, unable to keep the pretext alive.

“
What’re you doing?” I
whispered through the blackness.

“
I wanted to touch you.
You’re so luscious; I never saw it until now. Until you took off
your clothes, you were just another girl.”

Luscious.

“
I don’t know if I should
be happy about that or upset.” I moved closer to the edge of the
bed, my back still towards him, not ready to concede
defeat.

“
You should be impressed.”
He caressed the side of my breast with his finger.

“
You promised.”

“
I know, but I want to
touch you. I won’t do anything else.”

He continued to stroke and
fondle in silence, and I allowed him the small pleasure, he had
promised after all. But little by little I could feel every inch of
me coming alive, tingling, pulsing under his touch. I dared not
move. If I moved, he would take it as a signal and I didn’t know
how long I could resist such powerful advances. The wicked stench
from his body was intoxicating. The effect of his stubbled cheek
and matted hair against my shoulder was already more than enough to
drive me wild.

“
Let me fuck you,” his
gravelly voice penetrated my thoughts. I shivered.

“
No. Just friends. Go to
sleep.” My denials were weak.

“
Come on. You don’t even
have to move, let me do it. It’s not like you’re cheating or
anything if you don’t respond.” He spread my cheeks with his hand
and pressed his erection between them, testing my will. “I won’t
tell if you won’t.”

“
It’s not fair to Dean, he
wouldn’t like it.”

“
Good,” he said, simply,
“‘cause I’m not gonna fuck him.”

He pushed my legs further
apart. I was already wet from his touch, aching with excitement. He
slid himself between my legs, not entering me but teasing at the
edge. His hand grasped my breast and his fingers wound through my
hair, trapping me. I moaned softly.

“
Yes,
Blondie
. That’s it.”

“
No.”

“
Your head is saying ‘no’,
but your body’s already said ‘yes’. Now, roll over and let me take
you to heaven.”

Without a word, I moved my
leg, only a tiny fraction, allowing him to rub against me more
fully. The fight was over. My will had dissolved like water into
sand.

***

Mark lay on his side, a
sardonic grin stretched across his face as he watched me, beside
him. His finger reached over to touch my lips, the lips that were
plump and bruised from his kisses. The lips that had spoken ‘no’
when they meant ‘yes’. I was a bad girl. No wonder Ben didn’t want
me.

“
That was so good…” he
said, his finger playing with my mouth, touching the tip of my
tongue.

I looked at him through half
closed eyes, the delicious memory fresh in my mind, the brutishness
of him present in the faint blue tinge of bruises forming upon my
hips.

“
I can smell you,” he said,
“the deliciousness of you is all over me.” Stroking my face, he
lifted his finger, and wiped it across his mouth, sucking it
in.

“
I’ve never had a girl who
got off on the ferociousness of it before. Most girls just lay
there. I want to sink into you, to find the things that make you
writhe in ecstasy, to open that flower of innocence and teach you
things you never thought possible. That will be my
mission.”

I closed my eyes as the
words rushed over me like a waterfall. They were lewd and
disgusting yet poetically beautiful at the same time and from that
moment, I knew I’d let him. To hear him speak that way was worth
almost anything.

After a long while, I heard
him roll and sit up on the side of the bed. It was late, almost
morning and I had dozed but he hadn’t slept at all.

“
I’m going to get up for a
while, I can’t sleep,” he said.

Quietly, so as not to
disturb me again, he put on his jeans and padded across the floor
to sit beside the heater. Lighting a joint, I saw him draw the
smoke in and close his eyes. Then, he got up and went to my desk,
rifling for a piece of paper and a pen. As I tumbled into sleep,
his words began to fill the empty pages.

***

It was a matter of days
before he possessed me, my free will becoming less as his hold grew
tighter. I could feel it occurring and yet I didn’t want to, or
couldn’t stem the onslaught. All I knew was the intoxication of his
scent and the way I felt when he was inside me, making the pain of
Ben disappear.

Stretching, catlike, I sat
up on the side of the bed. “I have to get up, I have a lecture in
an hour and I need a shower.”

“
No, don’t get up. Stay in
bed with me.”

I looked at him, naked, on
the tumble of sheets. The invitation was tempting. “I have to go to
a lecture.”

Kneeling up, he reached for
me. “Stay,” he demanded, gently twisting my arm, trapping me to
him. “You don’t need a shower. You smell good. You smell like
sex.”

“
Exactly. Now let me
go.”

He pressed his body against
me; his chest squashing me so that I was confined between his arm
and his body. His lips nuzzled my neck. “But what’ll I do while
you’re gone? I’ll be bored without you,
Blondie
.”

“
I’m sure you’ll find
something to amuse yourself.”

Jumping from the bed, I
raced to the bathroom, locking the door. Standing under the jet of
water, I inspected my torso and arms. The bruises from the last
weeks were all over my body. I frowned. This thing with Mark was
becoming difficult. I’d been avoiding my friends and Dean, for fear
they’d notice my infidelity, for it surely must be written all over
my face. Soon they’d begin to question my absence, to notice my
abstraction – all I could think about was the next time and how
soon it would be.

As I held my lips up to the
water, rinsing my face, I considered the situation. Mark was not
controlling, rather dominating and persuasive. He wasn’t physically
abusive either, although some might consider his brand of sex rough
– biting and sucking, thrusting wildly.

He liked to leave his
imprint on me, the mark of his possession. In fact, he was an
exciting lover. The physicality was just his way. Dean was never
rough. He was tender and missionary and well, boring. I never
experienced the satisfaction with him that I did with Mark. I had
to admit I enjoyed playing the rough games too, biting him where
people would see and comment only made the game more dangerous. I
enjoyed the fact that there were no ties, no commitment and the
element of possible discovery only added to the
excitement.

But most of all, I enjoyed
the fact that he made me forget about Ben.

***

After lunch I stood at the
front of Mark’s flat. I could hear ‘The Doors’ blaring through the
closed door. They’d become something of a theme for us, a secret
that we shared. Mark loved to fuck me while Jim Morrison sang. My
key, the key he had given me so that I could come and go as I
pleased, was poised to open the door. I hesitated, I really should
go home; there was a mountain of work waiting including two
pressing essays and a piece of poetry for Prof. Phillips. He, of
all the lecturers, would not take kindly to a late submission and
I’d never handed work in late before. I felt guilty to even
consider doing it but for some reason being with Mark at that point
in time was all I wanted. My dreams were becoming blurry, my goals
lost in a wave of ecstasy that only Mark could provide.

Turning the key in the lock
and letting myself in, I called his name.

“
I’m in here.”

Of course, the bedroom.
Where else would he be? I walked down the hall, stopping in the
doorway. He was sitting in the same place I had left him only hours
before, gloriously naked and strumming his guitar. He looked up and
smiled, a carnal smile of desire.

“
Get naked,
Blondie
. I have a
surprise for you.”

I grinned back and began to
undress. There was something about him that made me want to give up
my independence, to dance to his tune. He was Svengali, moulding me
to his will.

“
Is there ever a surprise
that involves having my clothes on?” Since the affair had begun, I
had spent more time naked than clothed. I’d come to believe we’d be
far more at home in a Nudist colony than where we were right
now.

“
No. You look good without
your clothes. They never do you justice.”

I climbed onto the bed,
lying on my stomach, my bottom in full view of his swarthy glare. I
rested my chin on my hands and looked at him. “Okay. What’s the
surprise?”

Mark crawled across to the
bedside table, slapping my backside as he went. He picked up a
small package and rolling over in front of me he began to undo the
seal. “Well, there’s actually two. The first is that while you were
out I was busy, and yes, before you ask, I have been dressed and
out of the flat. I scored us some ‘speed’. I want you to have a
taste with me. There’s nothing like sex on speed. It makes you lose
all your inhibitions.”

“
I didn’t know you had
any.”

“
I was talking about
you,
Blondie
. It
wouldn’t hurt you to loosen up a bit, try something new. You work
too hard at Uni.”

“
I don’t know. Isn’t it
addictive?”

Mark smiled, his lustful
grin and black eyes holding me hostage. “It’ll be alright. I won’t
let any harm come to you. Trust me.”

The voice of reason flashed
inside my head. Is that the same way he said ‘trust me’ when he got
into bed with me the first time? There was nothing about him I
could trust with absolute certainty. As long as I remembered that,
everything would be okay. I couldn’t let him bend me all the
time.