Story of Us trilogy 01: TouchStone for Play (48 page)

“I’m listening.” He leans back, giving me
the time and the space I need to release myself from my affliction. He rests
his hands over mine.

“I … I heard them drive away laughing and
managed to pull myself together somehow: dragged myself home …”

“Did the guy with the dog call the
police?” His asks, with a sombre expression.

“No, I told him not to, I pretended I was
drunk and staggered off.”

“And you didn’t call the police?”

“No, I was too upset, I just wanted to
dive into a hot bath … I shouldn’t have left on my own. It was a stupid thing
to do.”

“You weren’t to know. Those fuckers should
have been arrested or worse.”

“I suppose.” I bury my head in his chest.
“When Charlie came back around 1am, she found me in the bath. The water had
gone cold and I was death white. She said she thought I was dead: I was the
colour of alabaster.” I try to smile. “She put me to bed and sat up all night
with me. When I woke in the morning, she was still sitting there wearing last
night’s make-up and her 80’s dress.”

“And she called the police?”

“No I wouldn’t let her. I thought I could
deal with it my own way, but I was wrong. It took longer to get over it than I
expected.”

“So the bastards got away with it?”

“Yes.” I look up and find his eyes. We intensify
our connection. “I’m so sorry I lied to you Ayden, but it’s so horrible and
just telling you makes me feel soiled.”

His hands wrap my face in warmth. “Never
think that Beth, you were very brave.” A whisper of a kiss finds my lips. “I’m
proud of you for being so strong. You came through it …”

“No, I didn’t, not really. He took things
from me.” He tips his head, inviting me to elaborate. “He took my bag, my phone
and my purse, but those things are nothing compared to …”

“Yes …”

“When I looked at myself in the bathroom
mirror, my face was smeared with blood, my blood…”

“He cut you!”

“No. He stole … he stole my virginity and
licked the blood off my face.”

There is a deafening silence: it rings in
my ears and stabs at my heart. He’s lost for words.

“My poor baby.” He wraps me up in his arms
so tightly, I can barely breathe; crushing the pain and shame from me until it
is too small to feel.

“So, you
were
a virgin when we
met?”

“Not exactly …”

“Yes you were! That doesn’t count baby …
you were and that’s final. Don’t explain. Don’t tell me you weren’t. I won’t
hear of it.”

My sobs are smothered in his bathrobe. I’m
warmed by his body heat. He’s my comfort blanket.

He lifts my chin. “Tell me what Charlie
meant when she mentioned the stalking.”

He forgets nothing. “He kept my phone.
People were sending me texts, so he knew my name. He even found out where I
lived and called me on the communal phone.”

“To say what?” He’s wide eyed and patient.

“To tell me he would kill me if I told
anyone, he knew how scared I was.”

“So that’s when you both changed you names
and left Cambridge?”

“Yes, and the rest you know.” I take a
deep, cleansing breath; relief expels from my lips. I have told him. My secret
is revealed and his to do with as he wishes.

He shakes his head from side to side. “You
should have told me Beth. I feel terrible, putting you in danger, putting you
in the public eye after you’d been hiding for so long.”

“You weren’t to know Ayden, media is your
business and you have a high profile. I knew what I was letting myself in for
with you.” I brush back my dishevelled hair. “If you want, we can spend some
time apart? You know, if you want to think about things … about me.”

He looks horrified. “Are you serious?”        

I nod yes.

“Why would you think that? I need to be
spending
more
time with you. Not less. I want to take care of you, I’ve
done a poor job of it up to now, but that’s going to be rectified. I can’t let
anything happen to you Beth.” He plants his face in front of mine, until there’s
only an inch of space between us. “With all my heart baby, I promise to take
good care of you. None of that matters.” He kisses me with so much tenderness
and longing, I’m swept away.

“We’ve started over, we’re creating our
story, one chapter at a time. Our lives didn’t begin ’til the moment we met, so
let’s stick to the story of us, ok? Nothing you say will ever make me want you
any less than I do right now.”

“I need you to make love to me Ayden. To
make me forget.”

I stand before him and push my robe from
my shoulders, leaving it to pool on the floor around me like a melted snowman:
my body is my most precious gift and I want to give it to him. “Show me how
much you want me, please.”

“You don’t want to invite Elizabeth
along?” I’m floored by his generosity. He’s willing to forgo his need for
dominance for me, to submit, to capitulate without a fight. How I love this
man.

“No. She’s taking the night off.” I smile,
feeling bashful as I stand, exposed. It occurs to me, here we are talking about
me, and my alter ego, in the third person: what a weird and wonderful
relationship we have.

Bare footed and naked I stand before him.
There’s something about the way he’s looking at me; I feel treasured,
sacrosanct. I’m still feeling a little self-conscious but not as much as I used
to, knowing he loves me deeply makes it so much easier.

I reach over to the iPod deck to put on
some music, but he takes my hand and kisses it, feeding each finger in turn
into his mouth. “No, no music. I’m going to make love to you and I need to hear
your body when it speaks to me.” He stands, reversing me gently until I feel
bedding against my calves.

“I’ll never grow tired of looking at you
Beth, you took my breath away when you appeared on the terrace last night, you
were like an angel who’d been heaven sent. You’re beautiful. You move me, can’t
you tell?”

He places my right hand on his heart. It’s
racing, pumping blood at a rate of knots. He lifts his eyes from my torso and
fixes me with the kind of stare that quite literally leaves me weak at the
knees. I rock backward a little then try to regain my equilibrium.

“I know it’s wrong but I like to think
that I own it, your body belongs to me, every perfect inch of it.” He runs the
back of his right hand across my breasts, making my heart flutter, causing my
nipples to harden and push outwards.

Slowly, he lowers his head to meet his
hands while suckling like a child on each breast in turn. I raise my hands and
my fingers disappear in his hair. This is gentle love making, exactly what I
need: medicine for the soul. It truly feels as if this is something Ayden
needs
to do to rescue me: I think I need it too, but I
want
more.

“Harder,” I utter, feeling an instant
serge of pressure as his lips take hold of my erect nipple. I groan and lean
into him. His fingers flutter southwards and, with tantalizing strokes, he
caresses my thighs with the outside of his hands. A whimper leaves my mouth and
my body sways, he catches me with the open palm of his right hand and steadies
me.

“You’re on fire Beth,” he states in a half
whisper. “Let me chase away your demon.”

“Do it,” I hear myself moaning. “You say
you want me to experience
everything
, with you.” I pause to lick my
lips. “I’m ready.” I pull his mouth onto mine. “Please.”

I feel a momentary lapse in his
concentration. “Are you sure?”

I wrap my arms around his protective body,
pulling him towards me with as much force as I can muster. It’s time for us to
face facts: even when I’ve been Elizabeth, he’s been in complete control, and
that’s the way I want it. There’s a name for that: he knows it and so do I.

“Ayden, we both know you’ve been topping
from the bottom from day one: last night you flicked a switch and there’s no
going back.” I take a deep breath, sensing his surprise at my awareness of the
role play.  “I’m yours, this body is yours. I Belong To You.”

He is visibly moved. “I’ll take such good
care of you Beth.” The thumb of his right hand brushes against my cheek.

“I know you will.” I tremble in response
to his touch. When it comes again, I lurk slightly as his hands skim my back,
pinning me to his chest: my heart beats to his hurried tempo, sending rippling
vibrations through my expectant body. Our heartbeats are synchronised, our
bodied are attuned: we are one.

His hands descend to the base of my spine
and he takes my buttocks in both hands and squeezes and lifts ever so slightly,
allowing his fingertips to stroke my moist folds. I call out. “Ah.”

“You’re allowing yourself to feel me Beth,
finally....” I see his exultant smile and I reciprocate with a grateful version
of the same.

I push back his bathrobe, taking a moment
to trace the shape of his collar bone with my fingers. He is a fine specimen,
by anyone’s reckoning. “Just looking at you makes me moist all over,” I
confess, sharing my most private of thoughts.

“And that’s exactly how I want you,
always.” His tongue slips into my mouth and teases me to do the same, before it
invades me further with ardent longing. “Do you remember our safe word?”

Our
safe word?
The one he said he would never need? That safe
word?

“Yes, Romeo.” We both smile. It sounds as
if I’m addressing him. “Will I need it?”

“No, I’ll make sure you don’t, but it’s
good to know you can stop me at any time.” He’s pushing back my hair from my
face and planning something, I just know it.

“Then I won’t need it. I trust you to take
care of me.” I remember his words. “You think too much of this body to damage
it.”

He smiles broadly and rubs his nose
against mine. “This is true.”

He leans to the right and opens the drawer
by the bed. I know what’s in the drawer and knowing causes a surge of
excitement to sear through my body. He’s holding the blindfold in his hands,
purposely folding it over his knuckles for me to see.

“Last night, I
tried
to take away
your power of speech, now I
will
take away your sight. It’ll feel a
little strange at first, but give yourself time to adapt. Trust me.”

I lean back, stopping him in his tracks.
“You’ve done this before?”

“Yes, but I’ve never wanted to do it as
much as I do now.” He projects such sinful sexiness it makes me think I must
have done something really good in a previous life to deserve this.

He slides the blindfold over my head but,
before covering my eyes, he launches one of his high voltage stares, and that’s
the image I take with me as a black shroud envelopes my world.

He’s right, it does feel weird, but with
the loss of vision comes the loss of embarrassment. What a revelation. If I
can’t see what he’s doing to me, then he can do anything and it’s alright. It
becomes all about sensation not humiliation. That’s why last night’s sexual encounter
was disastrous for me: I saw too much.

“Are you ready to surrender yourself to
me?” He asks with such authority it causes my chest to heave.

This is the man I want, My Mr. P. “Yes, I’m
ready.” I gasp, finding it hard to conceal my arousal.

His hand grips my chin softly, keeping me
in place. “Yes what?” I feel muscles clenching in my groin.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl.” He locks his lips onto mine
and rocks his hips into me; it’s bump and grind again and I give myself to the
sensation. I hear him breathing into my ear. “Does this feel good?”

“Yes.” I pant. “I want more.” I have
libidinous thoughts and they all begin and end with him.

“Lay back on the bed. I’m going to make
love to you.” I shuffle onto the bed and lay modestly down, eyes closed, hands
by my sides, knees together.

“I’m going to tie your hands to the
bedframe. Give me your hands.” I respond to his persuasive fingers as they lift
my hands above my head. Every inch feels like a mile, every second an hour:
it’s a big ask.

“I know this is difficult or you, but
it’ll be worth it Beth, trust me.” His words comfort me, as he ties my hands to
the frame with the soft cord from the drawer. I focus on my breathing and wait.

“It’s time to let me love you Beth.”

I nod with a powerful, sexual awakening as
he begins the colonisation of my body …

Tentatively, he outlines my face with a
finger and runs his thumb across my mouth, easing it between my parted lips.
“Suck me.” I wrap my tongue around his thumb and I swear I can hear a groan
somewhere out there in the darkness. He runs his hand up my legs, starting at
my shins, ending at my thigh. I picture him looking, coveting: I feel desired.

“I love this body, it’s soft, it’s
perfect, it belongs to me.” I picture his face, stunningly gorgeous and serious
in his claim. I want to take it in my hands, to smother it in kisses but I
can’t. I feel him astride me, holding me fast between strong thighs. Hot palms
find their way into my hair, fixing me in place. I’m pinioned beneath him:
taken prisoner, without any means of escape. It’s unsettling, disturbing even.
I’m pulling on my restrains, he can’t help but notice.