Sonata

by Kenya Wright

  “You don’t know that. It’s fear and anxiety taking.”

  “My face is—”

  “Mine.” He closed the distance between us. “It’s all mine. Along with your body, and voice and scent, and especially your pussy. All mine. And I don’t do refunds or exchanges. And you’re not an object, but you’re still mine.”

  My heart warmed.

  He brushed his mouth against my forehead and then landed a kiss near the scars. “You are still beautiful. You are still just as captivating. Do you believe me?”

  “I…do.”

  “But will you doubt again and again in the future?”

  “Wouldn’t it be normal too?”

  I feel so insecure. He’s right. It’s all different forms of fear messing with my head. But how do you get rid of it?

  He let out a long breath and walked off to his leather case. “I’ve got an idea to fix this.”

  “What?” I watched him pull out a small curved knife with a white tortoise shell handle. “How are you going to fix this? Wait. Why did you get that?”

  He put the leather case down and headed to the bathroom.

  “Jean-Pierre?” I reached for his arm as he passed, he moved it out the way. “What are you doing?”

  “Fixing this.” He went into the bathroom, shut the door, and locked it.

  “No. No.” I rushed to the door. “What are you doing? Put the knife away!”

  I slammed and banged at the door. “Jean-Pierre!? No! Please, don’t.”

  Tears left my eyes. I ran from the door and grabbed the guards outside. “Stop him. Open the bathroom door. He’s going to hurt himself.”

  They barreled in, pushing me to the side, and hurrying to the door. Dr. Martin had still been in the living room, he hurried to the room too.

  When we got to the door, Jean-Pierre opened it. “I’m fine.”

  No.

  Everyone froze as we took Jean-Pierre’s new face.

  He had sliced long lines, on the right side of his face, similar to mine in almost every way. It was a perfect copy. Jean-Pierre knew pain. He knew injuries and what caused them. And he’d guessed the Devil’s angle and had done it to his own face.

  Shock hung in the air. Dr. Martin and the guards said nothing.

  Jean-Pierre stared at me with blood dripping down the side of his face.

  Rage and pain swirled through me.

  I looked at the others. “Please, leave. We need a minute.”

  Dr. Martin stepped past me. “I can take care of his stiches before I leave.”

  “Thank you.” I shook with anger. “I would like that.”

  “Okay. Take time to talk.” Dr. Martin walked out of the bedroom. “I’ll be in the living room.”

  The guards left and shut the door.

  Jean-Pierre hadn’t stopped watching me.

  Shaking my head, I went to the bathroom, walked past him, and took a clean cloth from the shelf.

  “Damn you, Jean-Pierre.” I did my best, to keep my voice calm, as I returned to him bringing the cloth to his face to stop the bleeding. “Don’t do that again. Don’t you ever do this again.”

  Blood stained the white cloth.

  I shook my head. “We’re going to have Dr. Martin—”

  “Do you believe me now?” He hit me with an intense gaze.

  “Yes.” I gritted my teeth.

  “And do you understand?”

  “Don’t cut yourself again! Not for me.”

  He curved his mouth into a smile.

  “Why are you grinning?” I held the cloth closer to the jagged lines as more blood seeped out. “This isn’t funny at all.”

  His voice was raw with emotion. “Now you know what you mean to me.”

  My heart clenched, so tightly, I thought I would pass out. I touched my chest. “Jean-Pierre, don’t—”

  “Now you know that I would cut my face to heal yours.” Those brutal words emerged painful and needy. And as soon as they were out, his mouth was on mine. Searing and rough. Hungry and demanding.

  He’s crazy. I’m crazy. We’re both crazy.

  He swept the hair off my face, and I reached for his hand, kissing those big palms. Those wicked hands that helped him cut himself.

  A violent intimacy rose between us. Fiercely sacred. Enveloping every cell. It moved around us. I could feel it in the air. Like one felt the spiritual energy rising in a church right before a holy ritual. This was our moment. Our ceremony. Our sacrament.

  He took my hand from where I’d been holding the cloth and held it himself.

  I looked at my hand. His blood stained my palm. And in some ways, it was purifying. Cleansing our souls, preparing us for the next.

  Yes. I’m fucking crazy now. I’ll just have to embrace it.

  Holding the bandage himself, he pulled me in with the other arm. “I’m sorry, reine.”

  And all I could do, was shiver against this powerful, and unyielding man. His love would stand the test of time. Nothing could divide us. How had I forgotten? How had I let anything like fear, or the horror of the past days convince me of something else?

  We’re in this forever.

  It didn’t matter what we’d gone through. It didn’t matter what happened to his face or mine. Whether I could play the violin, or if he was rich? Whether I’d changed and he did. Whether we were toxic or completely functional.

  We would remain, regardless of anybody’s opinions or actions. I’d stand by his side, and he would be there for me.

  And everyone else can go fuck themselves.

  This was love. The realest kind. The one that wasn’t dependent on the beauty of life. The sort of love that couldn’t bend from pressure, couldn’t dampen in the storm. Grounded. Fixed. No hurricane could uproot it.

  How could I have been so stupid?

  Jean-Pierre was like no other man. Not shallow or weak. He’d loved me from the beginning, before I knew him, before I knew myself. And he would love me forever.

  No. We’re not normal at all.

  Tears left my eyes. “I love you.”

  “Don’t ever leave me.”

  “I won’t.”

  Dysfunctional relationships were ones that didn’t operate normal. They deviated from the norms of social behavior. There was nothing normal about us. We hadn’t begun like other couples, and we wouldn’t end like them either. But were we abnormal? Unhealthy?

  He hadn’t put those scars on my face. He hadn’t made me lose my mind. He was just trying to help me, and he did so through blood. He did so by saving me. And when he had to tell me, that I never needed to worry about shallow things, he did it his way, through blood again.

  What is normal anyway? I’ve been petting an invisible unicorn for days.

  Jean-Pierre whispered, “I’m sorry, if I scared you.”

  A long sigh left me.

  For a second, Jean-Pierre stiffened. “I thought. . .you were leaving.”

  “I won’t even think about it again.”

  “Good.” He glared at me and growled, “You’re mine.”

  The words vibrated through me. The wild truth blazed molten hot in his eyes. Piercing. Intoxicating. Woefully arousing. And I shifted to nothing but sensations, drowning within the intensity of him, every nerve awakened and stimulated.

  In that moment, I surrendered.

  I stopped fighting my fears and gave him all control.

  If this isn’t normal, then I don’t want it. I want him. I want us. I want the bandages and all.

  Chapter 28

  Dominate Me

  Jean-Pierre

  I didn’t think I could fall in love with Eden anymore. But after hearing the news of her pregnancy, an overwhelming amount of love blossomed in my heart. She would be the mother of my child. Now she would have me more than anyone ever could.

  Dr. Martin inspected the stiches on my face and then glanced over my shoulder at a scowling Eden. She was across the room with her hands on her hips.

  Dr. Martin turned back to me and kep
t his voice low. “You’re in trouble.”

  “I am.” I whispered back. “Do you think you can save me?”

  “Not this time.” He placed the bandage on my cheek. “I’ve known you were since a teen. This is the craziest thing you’ve ever done.”

  “Then, you haven’t been paying attention.”

  “You’re probably right.” Dr. Martin checked the edges of the bandage and then dropped his hands. “Now you both will match.”

  “That was the point.”

  Eden huffed behind him.

  Dr. Martin rose. “You both should talk to someone. A professional.”

  Neither of us said anything while we watched the other.

  Dr. Martin continued, “You’re bringing a child into the world. This type of behavior won’t be healthy, Jean-Pierre. Figure it out.”

  Shaking his head, Dr. Martin walked off. One of my guards helped him on with his coat, and then opened the door.

  I looked at Eden. “Are you hungry? We can go anywhere. See anything.”

  “Get your ass in the bedroom.” She stormed off. “Now!”

  I quirked my eyebrows and directed my view to her. That fat ass jiggled as she stomped. My cock jerked. I curved my mouth into a smile.

  I’m fine with the bedroom. Is that where you’re going to discipline me?

  Following her down the hallway, I pulled off my shirt and slung it on the floor. “I’m still in trouble?”

  “You are.” She opened the door and went inside.

  I walked through and shut it.

  She turned around.

  I had her in my arms.

  “Jean-Pierre—”

  I kissed her complaints away. What could she have to say, that I didn’t already know? Of course, cutting myself had been stupid. Of course, I didn’t need to.

  But I did and I had no regrets.

  I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to fuck you.

  She fell under my spell for a little bit. Moaning as I nipped at those lips and sucked and tasted. She stumbled back and I gathered her in my arms again, encasing her with me. My big arms around that small frame. I towered over her, showing her who’d she’d fallen love with.

  Moaning, she moved her face away, but still glared at me. “Don’t ever hurt yourself again.”

  “I can’t promise that.”

  “Don’t do it for me.”

  “I can’t promise that either.”

  The last word was a soft whisper. “Please.”

  “Reine.” I lifted my queen in my arms and carried her to the bed. “I have no regrets. If you found a time machine and went back to that hour, to fix that moment. You would find that I would cut myself again, and again and again.”

  I placed her on the bed. “And again.”

  She tried to sit up. She attempted to finish the conversation.

  “I’m done talking about it.” I feasted on her mouth.

  There was nothing that could be done, when it came to her and me. We would be together forever. And now, as my child lay within her womb, growing inside of her, I would protect her even more. I would double it all up. There would be no limit to her safety and the love I had for her.

  If you think I’m crazy now. . .

  Giving her a moment to catch her breath, I rose a little.

  She lay on the bed, looking lovingly ravished. Lust blazed in her eyes, but tears streaked down her face. “Don’t ever do that again.”

  “Take off those clothes.”

  She frowned, but did as I said, knowing I would probably tear it off, if she didn’t. My cock lay heavy in my pants. I undid them and yanked them off, close to falling off the bed.

  Almost completely naked, she laughed a little.

  “I’m funny?”

  “We’re all bandaged and crazy. We look like we were in a fight and lost.”

  “We would never lose.” I returned to her as she spread her thighs for me. I wasn’t sure if she was ready for many positions since she was pregnant.

  Do I fuck her differently? Should I be more careful?

  I’d done my best to be cautious with her. Deep inside, I wanted her all over the suite—on the grand piano in the living room, hot tub, bent over the ledge of the balcony, as the full moon witnessed my cock slipping inside of that wet pussy.

  She’s hurt and pregnant. I’ll take my time.

  She lay spread out to me. Naked. Exposed. Her folds glistened in the soft light in the bedroom. I reached out and touched that throbbing bud, peeking out and greeting my eyes.

  She stirred.

  I dipped my finger into that soft wetness and grunted. I slipped another finger in. Eden gasped.

  “Hmmm.” I lowered down and tasted that sweet pussy.

  Eden cried, “Lick it, please.”

  I did, lapping and smiling the whole time.

  “Jean-Pierre!”

  It appears that I’m not in trouble anymore.

  Sucking and tasting that pussy, I slipped my hands to her breasts and toyed with those nipples. Multitasking was always easy when it came to pleasuring Eden’s, body. I sucked on that clit. I swirled my tongue around the peak. Moans ripped out of her.

  Still licking her wetness, I squeezed those nipples with my hands.

  Her body shook. “Jean-Pierre!”

  I shoved my face in that pussy, rubbing the part of my cheek that wasn’t scared, up and down. So hot and hungry, she slipped her pussy against my face, coming close to humping my face.

  I lifted up. Part of my face was wet from her. I relished in her fragrance, glad to have her all over me. “I love you.”

  Barely catching her breath, she whispered, “I love you too.”

  “Your mine.”

  “And your mine too, Jean-Pierre.” Love radiated from her. “That’s why I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

  “I won’t. And you don’t leave.” I lowered back to her pussy. “Never run away. We can always fix it together.”

  “I promise.”

  “Hmmm.” I buried my tongue back into that pussy, using it like I would wield my cock. Touching everything and more.

  She cried out, grabbing the sheets next to her, but that couldn’t help her. “Jean-Pierre!”

  My cock jerked. I rubbed my length against the sheets to get a little relief. Eden had been yanking out my sperm, upon us being reunited. She’d controlled me with her pussy. I could not think or dominate her anymore when my cock lay deep inside her.

  “Oh, Jean-Pierre, baby.” She rocked her hips into my pussy and then locked her thighs around my face. “Oh!”

  Yes, reine.

  She came hard against me. Her pussy wetting my mouth some more.

  Fuck. Yes, baby. Who did that to you?

  I kissed her clit.

  She shuddered.

  I lapped at that sensitive bud, again and again.

  “Oh!” She shivered, as her legs fell away from my face, freeing me from her hold.

  I rose and wiped my face.

  Through sleepy eyes she gazed back.

  Licking my fingers, I grunted. “You make me crazy.”

  “You were crazy before.”

  “You dialed it up.” I was inside her in seconds. My cock penetrating that shivering wet pussy, as it dealt with the aftershocks of orgasms. “How many times can I make you come today?”

  Her words rode panted breaths. “Let’s. . .see.”

  And I did my best. I shoved that cock deep into her, pumping so hard, squeezing my ass together to give the tip an extra push. I wanted to bottom out in that pussy. Discipline and dominate. She’d been a bad girl too.

  I’ll never let you go. Don’t run. Just take it.

  I pounded into that pussy all night, barely taking a break. The bed cracked. The room darkened as the day, shifted into night.

  And we fucked, shifting from position to position. I had her on all fours, bucking into her. Rutting into that pussy like a mated beast.

  Was she not my mate? Was I not a beast? Surely there was a
proper breeding phase, although she was already pregnant. Surely, there would be more need to fill her with my come, burst and spurt all inside that pussy.

  The whole time we fucked, I relished in her sweat, her pussy’s juices, her scents all over my skin. I wanted everyone to smell her on me. So, when she sucked my cock, into those soft lips, I smeared them with my seed. When she let me ram my cock into that tight little ass, I yanked it out before coming. I painted her back and ass cheeks, smacking that fat bottom, watching it all jiggle with dots of my come on her. Smearing it in. Making her more mine.

  By midnight, we stopped.

  I ordered food.

  When it arrived, I forced her to eat.

  And then she forced me to eat mine.

  “You’re bossy.” I frowned, as I shoveled food into my mouth.

  She grinned. “I’m not.”

  I chewed my food, happy to be near her.

  When we finished eating, we lay in the darkness. Jazz playing. I didn’t think she was ready to hear the soft melody of a violin, not until we knew the future of her playing.

  If the Devil took that from her, I’ll make a violin of his bones. I’ll use his intestines for the bow.

  Slowly, she fell asleep in my arms. Her head rested on my chest. Meanwhile, I couldn’t get any rest yet. I was too excited about the future ahead.

  She’s pregnant.

  We hadn’t talked about it. Plans would need to be made.

  She needed a house. Somewhere in the country, away from the craziness. A large mass of land. Horses for her to look at, not ride yet. A garden for fresh food. Our child would require the best of all things. Serious plans would need to be made.

  Everything will be different now.

  My phone rang on the nightstand.

  I reached over and silenced it, not wanting to wake Eden up. She’d been through enough. And with this new news of the pregnancy, she needed even more time to heal. Nothing could get in the way of that.

  “She needs to talk to someone,” the doctor had said.

  The phone rang again and again.

  Sighing, I answered the phone in a soft whisper, “Yes?”

  Louis came on the line. “Tomorrow is the meet for the Devil. I couldn’t get the Mouse’s number yet. What’s your plan?”

  I pulled Eden closer to me. “I won’t be going.”