Seduced by Pain (11 page)

O, when she's angry, she is keen and shrewd!

She was a vixen when she went to school;

And though she be but little, she is fierce.

—William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream

Dear Diary,

It seems that life is about surrender, to recognize that we aren't in control and surrender to the powers that be. This is perhaps the hardest lesson for me. I struggle with letting go, with acknowledging that I can't dictate the course of my own life. To step off that cliff and trust that I won't fall to my death—that is the one thing I can't seem to do, and the one thing everyone seems to be asking of me.

First, with the martial arts move that required letting go instead of defending or attacking.

Now, Drake says I need to put away my sword.

How do I put away my sword when I'm being attacked? How do I shut off my survival instincts long enough to do that?

I think I've found a way, but I'm so confused by what it means.

And by what it says about me.

OCEAN SAT CROSS-LEGGED
on her bed, and I paced the room, trying to find words to say what I wanted to say.

She sighed dramatically. "Just spit it out, will you? Before I get Sam in here to pull it out of your mind."

My cheeks burned with shame when I remembered that Sam could read minds. Had she already read mine? Did she know what a freak I was?

"This must be good, if you're turning into a turnip. Come on, Rose. I would never judge you, just tell me."

If I couldn't tell my very best friend, how was I going to ever talk to Derek about this? "Okay, fine. Look. So. Um. Derek and I are experimenting, to see how far we can go. And Drake said I needed to put away my sword. And—"

"Wait, what? What does Drake have to do with you fucking Derek? And aren't you supposed to be putting away your fiancé's sword?"

"You're so wrong. And oh, God, the sword thing never sounded dirty until now. Thanks. No, see, he was saying I need to stop fighting the dark side of myself. And so last night, Derek and I were fooling around, and—"

"Oh my, God, did you finally do the deed?" She squealed like a cheerleader, and I scowled at her.

"No, now can I please finish?"

"Sorry. Go on."

"So, we were fooling around, and it was really amazing, and this heat built up in me like I was going to die if I didn't let it go, but I was so scared that my power would be unleashed. I could feel it escaping, looking for something to feed on. Then… " I took a deep breath and reminded myself that Ocean would never judge. She'd probably done worse. Way worse. "Then, he bit my nipple, hard, and in that second, my power fizzed out or something. I don't know what happened, but anytime he got a bit rough, to where it hurt a little, I didn't feel like I was going to kill him. What do you think it means?"

"It means you like it hard and dirty. Good for you. I knew you had a bad girl in there somewhere. Other than that, though, I'm not sure. We need to talk to Father Patrick."

Mortification. Total and complete. "No freaking way. He's old. And male. And a priest. I am so not telling him I like when my boyfriend—"

"Fiancé."

"Fiancé bites my nipples. I'd die."

"Rose, you have to tell him. Otherwise, you'll never get to have an orgasm, and you'll never know the pleasure of being fucked so hard you think you might break in half."

My panties dampened at that thought, and I cursed my libido for making me do this. "Fine. But you're coming with me. And then, we're leaving this school and never coming back again."

She jumped off the bed and grabbed her shoes. "Sure, whatever, prude girl."

We both sat in wooden chairs in Father Patrick's office while he made us tea. He really liked his tea.

Over his desk, a crucifix hung on the wall, and I could have sworn Jesus was staring at me, judging me for my dirty thoughts. I'd never been religious, and didn't feel guilt for wanting sex, but liking the pain involved was another matter all together.

The priest sat the cups in front of us and took his own seat. "What can I do for you ladies?"

I took a sip of the tea, in hopes it would help. It didn't.

Stumbling all over my words, I attempted to tell him what I'd told Ocean. "Hypothetically speaking, if someone had a problem, and that problem seemed to get better when certain other factors involved came to be, but those other factors weren't standard protocol in this venture, what would you suggest?"

He looked at me like I'd just spoken tongues. Or maybe he would have actually understood me if that's what I'd done.

Ocean burst out laughing, spitting tea across the desk. "Oh God, I'm so sorry." She used her napkin to wipe off a Bible.

Great, my best friend just spit on God's Holy Word. We were going to hell.

"What she's trying to say, Father Patrick, is that as she and Derek fooled around, she realized she likes being fucked hard and dirty and that pain actually suppresses her dark side."

I slunk into my chair while I waited for the lightning that was surely coming to strike us both dead.

Ocean just smiled. "Excuse my French, but I felt it best to just get it out there plainly."

With my eyes squeezed shut, I had no idea if Father Patrick had died from shock or was about to splash Holy Water on us, but when he put his hand on mine, I peeked open one eye, then the other.

No Holy Water, at least.

"Rose, is this true? Did physical pain help you pull your power back while you were aroused?"

I nodded, still afraid to speak.

He tapped his chin with his index finger while muttering "interesting" over and over.

"You're not going to excommunicate me or something?"

He chuckled. "No. First, you have to be a member of the church to be excommunicated properly. And second, there's no shame in this. It's useful information that has confirmed a theory I have. Now, before I tell you my thoughts, you have to promise to keep an open mind."

When a priest tells you to keep an open mind, you know it's going to be about the worst news you've ever heard.

"Rose, I think you are somehow in possession of a demonic power. I don't know how, or why, but given where the souls end up, I suspected this and, now, what you've said confirms it."

My heart stopped when he said 'demonic power.' My ears buzzed and my head exploded in pain. I forced myself to listen as he kept talking.

"The reason your power turned silent when there was pain is because it feeds off of pain. By feeding it, you calmed it. I'd venture to say this is the answer to your question about how to control it."

"So, you're saying I'm a demon?"

"I don't know what you are, but I'm saying you control a power only seen in demons."

I shuddered. "And, if I engage in sex with my soon-to-be-husband…" I wanted to keep reminding him that we intended to marry, so we could get some points in his theology. "…Then we need to make it rough?"

"Don't do anything that doesn't feel right to you, but yes, that's my suggestion, if you enjoy it. And it seems, based on what I've heard, that you do."

"Okay, um, thanks. I'm going to go and think about this some more, okay?" I had to get out of there before I turned into a puddle of embarrassment.

Who got sex advice from a priest? Me. That's who.

I grabbed Ocean's hand and pulled her out of the office as I ran back to her room.

Father Patrick's chuckles followed us down the hall.

The wildest hath not such a heart as you.

—William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream

Dear Diary,

Demons.

Demons are real.

I send souls to a demon plane.

I have demon powers.

This is what I've learned this week.

Sincerely, the girl who thought she was a witch

WE ENDED UP
back at the pond with the singing weeping willow tree.

Ocean watched me as one watches a patient on suicide watch, with big eyes full of concern, and a body ready to leap to the rescue should I attempt to behead myself with a spork, or some such craziness.

Maybe the fact that I kept saying the word 'demon' over and over gave her concern more justification.

"I have demon powers? Demon powers? Ocean, how is this possible? I'm a witch. You're a witch. We're all witches, right? So, wouldn't someone have told me I had demon powers before? He has to be wrong."

She sat silent as I vented, repeating myself and cursing various entities for this fate.

When at last I ran out of words, she spoke. "Are you done?"

"For now."

"Good. Now listen. Who the hell cares where this comes from or what it's called. You're so missing the bigger picture here. You found the loophole. You can control it. And, I gotta say, the key to your control is pretty fun." Her eyes lit up in a scary way. "You can play with whips and handcuffs and spankings and… "

"Oh, hey, hold on a sec. This is getting too kinky for me. Do you do all of that?"

She shrugged. "Sometimes. When I'm with the right partner or in the mood. And really, why is it too kinky?"

"I don't know. Because I'm a virgin. Aren't I supposed to start with, you know, normal stuff in the bedroom? Work my way up to hardcore kink?"

"Oh, Rose. That's not hardcore, that's vanilla with a splash of cinnamon. With all the romances you read, you should be familiar with this."

In books, I could fantasize and pretend, but none of that involved feeding pain to a demon power so I could have sex.

"Why are you so ashamed of what you like?"

That was a good question. Because that's what it all boiled down to. I was ashamed. "I'm different. In everything, I'm different. And now, with sex, I feel like a freak."

"Who cares?" She flipped up her hand, and the water in the pond sprayed into the air and formed an arc that water droplets shaped like dolphin jumped through. "Very few people can do this. That makes me different too, but I embrace my differences. They make me unique."

"So I should embrace this?"

"If you want to be happy, you should." She let the water fall back into the pond. "You'll be miserable your whole life if you fight who and what you are. But if you accept yourself, all parts of yourself, you'll know a freedom you've never imagined."

I looked at Ocean, the woman who always seemed happy, even in impossible situations. There were worse people to take happiness advice from, that was for sure. "Is that why you're so happy?"

"Yup. When my parents died and Rainbow took me in, I tried to be what she wanted. You probably don't remember this, but I was miserable. It wasn't until I found a letter from my mom in some of their boxed up possessions that I realized how futile that was. She'd had a premonition and had written to me all the things she'd never get to say. With my inheritance, she left me the best gift of all: permission to be me. And now, I'm giving that to you, though in truth, it's something we are all born with. Sometimes it takes someone we love telling us it's okay to claim it before we are able to embrace it."

They say the first time hurts. This could work to my advantage.

I'd borrowed a see-through white nighty from Ocean and lit the candles Derek had put in our room the night before. I hoped I looked seductive with a glass of champagne in hand and fresh strawberries and melted chocolate spread before me.

I'd never tried to seduce anyone before. Ocean gave me some tips, and then I spent an hour shaving and plucking and applying lotions and all manner of cosmetics to my body to make it smooth and aromatic and beautiful. I felt like a mannequin on display, but I wanted our first time—my first time—to be perfect.

Derek walked in and dropped the bag of groceries he was carrying when he saw me. Leaving the bread and bananas to their fate, he approached me with slow steps, eyes passing over my body in sweeps.

My eyes dropped down to his pants, where evidence of his arousal pushed his jeans out.

My mouth watered as I imagined sucking him again. I chewed on my lower lip and reached for him.

"I want you, Derek. Completely and totally." Now for the hard part. I did my best to explain about the pain, and hoped I didn't turn him off. I glossed over the demon part, but his eyes widened when I mentioned what Father Patrick told me.

Pulling his hand to my chest, I pressed his palm against my hard nipples, and he refocused on me, hopefully forgetting all about demons.

"If you're still willing to try, I think it'll work. We'll just have to be… creative."

Instead of answering, he wrapped his arms around me and squeezed my ass hard as he pressed against me. His nails scraped against my flesh, sending a ripple of pain and pleasure through my body, and I finally understood the appeal of being spanked.

I vowed to shed all inhibitions and give full voice to what I wanted tonight. If I couldn't be honest about my desires with him, then I shouldn't be marrying him.

"Fuck me, Derek. Fuck me hard."

"Oh, I will my sweet Rose, but first, I'm going to make you come."

His words turned my legs to Jell-O and my body into a mass of need and fire.

He moved the tray with our treats on them and pushed me against the bed. With my legs closed, he straddled me at the knees and pulled on the ties that held the sheen fabric of my nighty together. It fell open, revealing my breasts and the tiny patch of silk that covered my pussy.

"You're so beautiful, Rose. You have no idea how desperately I've wanted to do this."

I couldn't speak, couldn't breathe, as he scooted down and tugged the panties off of me, leaving me naked, but him fully clothed.

"I think you're overdressed for the party." I reached to tug at his jeans.

He freed himself from his shirt and stood to pull his jeans off, then fell back on his knees, trapping mine beneath them.

My hands ached to touch his defined chest, as my gaze explored his body, but I couldn't move close enough.

When I reached out, he took his belt and strapped it around my hands, then secured it to the rail behind me. At first I thought he was worried I'd hurt him, and I opened my mouth to explain that any skin to skin contact could unleash my dark gift, but seeing the lust in his eyes, I realized this was part of the game.

And being pinned to the bed, helpless and immobile made me wetter than I'd ever been.

His tongue started its tour at my mouth, then trailed down my neck to my chest. He flicked at a nipple with his tongue, teasing me, but withholding what I wanted most.

"Promise me one thing, Rose."

"Mmmhmm?"

"If you need me to stop, to slow down or to be more gentle, tell me."

"Okay. But what if I need it rougher?"

He smiled and his dimple deepened. "Then tell me that, too. I'm at your service."

"You, too. Tell me if my power starts to hurt you."

"I will."

Talking ended as he resumed his attentions to my breasts, but the place between my legs ached, and I needed him to go lower, without leaving my tits alone. I just wanted him inside me, touching me, licking, sucking and biting everything. I wanted to touch him, but I loved being tied up. I wanted him to fuck me, but I craved the foreplay.

His tongue traveled down my belly and stopped just above my clit. While he tugged and twisted on my nipples, sending little shocks of electricity through me and feeding my dark gift in drops, his tongue flicked at that sensitive spot with my knees still pressed together between his.

I'd never felt a man's tongue between my legs before.

And oh, my God. Oh. God.

If he hadn't stopped, I would have come right then. But he teased me more, adjusting himself so he could spread my legs.

The cold air hit the heat building in my pussy, cooling the skin. He stared at me, naked and spread for him. I felt like I should be nervous, ashamed, embarrassed at being so exposed, but it actually heightened my arousal, knowing he was looking at me.

He bent forward and bit at the inside of my thigh as he stroked the center of my pussy without giving me the satisfaction of penetration.

"Please, Derek. Please." I didn't know how to articulate what I needed. More. Just more. Anything to satisfy the ache deep inside of me that had been building since the moment we met at the martial arts studio.

His tongue probed me again, this time sliding deeper into my pussy, teasing out my juices as he prepared me for his cock. His thumb pushed against my clit while his other hand worked my nipples, alternating between pain and pleasure, rough and gentle.

The juxtaposition of sensations sent me spiraling out of control. Like the ocean being sucked into itself as it prepared to send a tsunami of waves crashing to shore, my body pulled in, waiting, building, adding to the pressure.

When he pressed his fingers into me, stroking that one spot inside me, that tsunami unleashed itself.

He pumped me, twisting my nipple while he did to keep my power fed, then brought himself against me and bit at my shoulder.

"More. More. Bite harder. Go deeper. Give me more." My voice came out harsh, jagged, desperate.

He followed my commands, slamming his hand into me, digging his teeth into my flesh until I came so hard I bucked like a wild animal and screamed out his name.

While I rode the waves of this incredible high, he pulled his hand out, leaving me feeling empty and shocked, but only for a moment while he slipped a condom over his impossibly hard cock and eased himself into me.