Make Me: Twelve Tales of Dark Desire

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Make Me: Twelve Tales of Dark Desire Page 184

by Aleatha Romig


  I smiled. More sexy mythology.

  “Svava took her job seriously. She looked out after the bravest men, both dead and alive. Then one day she came upon a man who was silent, so silent that no name had been given to him, nor did he have a family or any kind of life at all. But she could tell he was brave and steadfast, so Svava gave him a name, Helgi, and along with his new name, she offered to give him a gift, but Helgi said the only gift he wanted was her. They married, and with her support he became a great warrior, and she was always there protecting him in battle. She refused to let him die, although eventually he did take a fatal wound.”

  She looked off across the street in the dark night.

  “Helgi called Svava to his side to give him one last kiss. But she couldn’t give him up. Their love was so strong that, instead, they were reincarnated again and again to be together for all time.”

  She looked back at me, her eyes wide, intent. I shook my head. “Nell—”

  “I don’t want to give you up, Jeremy! I’m not afraid. Not like you. Life is scary sometimes, but being without you scares me so much more—”

  “But don’t you see?” I cut her off with a frustrated sigh. “Faithfulness, forgiveness, bravery…all the things you bring… What do you get in return? What can I give? Pain? Confusion? Danger? Fear?”

  “Protectiveness. Kindness. Steadfastness. Handsome good looks.”

  She really meant it. I took her in my arms and held her close, breathing her in one last time.

  “Nell. You gave me a name, your name. You gave me a gift. It’s true I had no life before you, before you showed me what love can be. But if I lose you…”

  She shook her head. “Love can overcome all adversity, all fear, if you’re only strong. If you can be brave, or let me be brave for you, like Svava—”

  “Life isn’t mythology,” I said, drawing away from her. “Especially mine. But it was so wonderful to see you again.” I forced the words out to send her away. “God, it really was. Now let me get you a cab.”

  *

  The luggage he’d bought for me was all packed, sitting in the corner, the luggage he’d filled with delicious corsets and bras and stockings an eternity ago. But it wasn’t an eternity ago. It had been barely half a year since I’d met him at Guillermo’s restaurant.

  Silly, ridiculous girl. He doesn’t want you. Get over it already. Let him go.

  I looked down at the book clutched in my hands, the copy of The Odyssey he’d given me in Portugal. Could I ever let him go? I didn’t have a choice. I’d seen it in his eyes, that he wanted me more than anything on earth, and still he sent me away.

  Let it go.

  I sighed and put the book on top of my suitcase. When I got to school, things would be better. I could lose myself again in the stories I already loved, and learn new stories that illuminated the world and the strange things people did in it.

  I couldn’t wait to go.

  I set the alarm clock and had just turned out my light when I heard strident knocking at the door. My heart stopped, even though it had been months now. I looked at the clock. It was just after midnight. It’s not her.

  “Nell, it’s me, Jeremy!” I heard in the darkness. “Let me in. I need to talk to you.”

  I opened the door to the humid night air. He stood on my stoop, his eyes intent.

  “Nell.”

  He reached for me, and I threw myself into his arms. He kissed me hard and deep, and then he pulled away.

  “I’m yours,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I’m yours.”

  Tears spilled onto my cheeks. I couldn’t believe he was there in front of me. He wiped them away and shook his head.

  “No, don’t cry. I don’t want you to be sad anymore. I don’t want to be sad anymore either. Not another minute.”

  He had something in his hand, a sparkling gold circle I remembered. He took my hand and slipped on the ring. “I don’t want to pretend anymore that I’m not in love with you. If you can be brave, I can too. I promise you…I promise you…”

  He searched for the words to say, but I knew already what he meant. I put my fingers on his lips and said, “It’s okay, I know.”

  He put his hands on me again, first on my neck, then on my breasts, on my hips, between my legs. “The bedroom. Where’s the bedroom?”

  I led him to the stairs. He’d bought me this beautiful little house but had never even been inside. I would thank him later and give him the tour, but not now. His hand on my ass propelled me up the stairs. When we got to the bedroom, he drew off my cami and flung it in the corner. He slipped his hands under the waistband of my pajama pants and drew them down. When I was nude, he began to explore me. His hands swept over every inch of my skin.

  His warm, rough palms were as familiar to me as my own face. I stood and let him stroke me, inspect me. Shoulders, breasts. A tweak of both nipples, and an approving grunt when each snapped to rigid attention. Down the side of my torso to my waist. His arms circled me there, then brushed down over the flare of my hips. His hands hovered at the juncture of my legs and caressed the ticklish flesh at the top of my thighs.

  I trembled with the effort to stay still. I disciplined myself to the sedate presentation he liked, although I wanted to scream with joy, jump up and down. I wanted to leap up and wrap my legs around his hips. He looked down at me and the corners of his mouth curved.

  He knew exactly how I felt.

  His hand closed on my pussy. I closed my eyes and leaned against his solid body, then buried my head in the softness of his shirt. Jeremy. I could feel the tension in his muscles. One finger slipped into my slit. My grip tightened on his arms. I wanted him to take me, to subdue me, to put me back in my place. Oh. I gasped as his finger probed deeper. Another finger, and another. I was pulled off balance as he grasped my pussy hard, harder. “Oh please!” With a rough exhalation, he released me and stepped back. I felt like I was falling without him. In the split second he released me, my heart raced in panic. I made a frightened sound.

  He pulled me close again and fumbled in the pocket of his jacket with the other hand. He drew out another circle I remembered, but this one was black leather instead of gold. Instead of a diamond, this circle was affixed with a large silver ring. He held the collar in his palm, ran his thumb over the rough leather. I just stared. For you, Nell. I wanted to touch it, kiss it. I wanted to fall to my knees. I wanted to grab it and wrap it around my neck, but I couldn’t. I waited and bowed my head.

  “Down,” he said.

  I sank to the floor. His thumb pressed under my chin, and he forced my gaze to his. His face was set in rigid lines, but his eyes and mouth were soft. He placed the black collar around my neck and drew my hair aside to fasten it. The gentle feel of his fingers on my neck contrasted with the pull of the tightening leather. I was truly going to be his. With or without the collar, with or without the work contract. He owned me through and through.

  He stepped back and looked down at me. One light fingertip traced around the unfinished edge of the collar, then insinuated itself into the ring at the front. I felt the tug as he grasped it, and then the pull. I came to my feet and tripped behind him, dragged to the bed. I moaned as he bent me over. He delivered stinging slaps to my thighs until I parted them to his satisfaction.

  Behind me, I heard the familiar sounds of him undressing, the clink of his belt buckle, the quiet whoosh of his shirt sliding down his arms. The swish-snap of his pants being dropped and kicked to the side. I stood, spread and collared, bent over. I waited to be taken, my heart in my throat. I could smell my arousal like an intoxicant. I sneaked a peek behind me at Jeremy. My gaze slid over his bunched abs, his waist and groin. His arms hung at his sides, powerful arms that hurt me and held me in turn. His hands were open, relaxed. Was he thinking about the same things I was? I own her. She’s mine.

  He moved forward and splayed one hand on the small of my back. Slight pressure. I’ve got you. His other hand probed my pussy again, greater pressure this time. Two f
ingers, three…pushing, exploring. His hand prodded me. I leaned forward, then lifted one knee to the bed. He made a sound of denial and pulled me back by my hips.

  “Stay.”

  He stood closer behind me, so his cock nudged at my entrance. His warm, virile strength and vitality felt so familiar to me, so comforting, I nearly sobbed. How I’d missed him, how I’d craved his hands. And his cock. Oh God. I made the slightest movement, just a hair of a shift backward, searching.

  “No. Bad girl.”

  I lowered my head and clutched at my floral bedspread. He teased, he tempted. He dipped the head close to my slit, then withdrew. A soft whine communicated my indignation. He laughed and slid his fingers into the back of my collar. He pulled me up and held me clasped back against him.

  “Question, girl. Have you been with anyone else?”

  I shook my head, aghast at the idea of it. “No, Jeremy. No.”

  His fingers burned a trail up to my breasts. He squeezed one tit. “Neither have I.” He squeezed the other, then his fingers brushed over my sternum to once again grasp the collar’s O-ring. “Are you still on the pill?”

  “Yes.” A good owner protects his property. He was letting me know that he was still safe, checking that I was too, before he came inside unsheathed. The idea of it touched some deep part of me. The care he gave me, it was remarkable. If it were me, I would have already speared myself on him, disease or pregnancy be damned. But not Jeremy. “Please.” My voice was shaky with emotion. Please, I love you. Please, come inside. I pressed my ass back against him and got a little shake at the collar.

  “Wait.”

  “Yes, Jeremy.” Melting with desire. Tortured. He turned me around by the ring.

  “Lie down.” He half pushed, half helped me lie back on the bed. My hands skittered around, unfettered. I almost put them in my crotch, desperate to assuage the ache. I finally grasped the covers at my side. He buried his fingers in my hair and leaned forward. I felt his warm breath tickle my clavicle, then felt his rough cheeks brush the soft skin under my chin. I smelled his aftershave and hummed with pleasure at every sensation, every familiar scent. I hungered for his cock.

  “Give me your hands,” he ordered.

  I held them out and he gathered them up and pushed them over my head. He arched above me. I stared up at his golden torso, the sculpted abs. I lost control and pulled forward to put my mouth on him, to taste, to lick.

  “No.” His reprimand was delivered with a trace of a smile. He stroked a finger down my quivering middle. “Have you become so poorly trained? In such a short time?”

  “Yes!” I was wild. I bucked my hips against him. “I need…I need…”

  “You need me to teach you a lesson?”

  “I need you to fuck me!”

  Jeremy laughed and kissed me. I thrust my tongue in his mouth and tasted him. I wanted him so much. He pulled back and took my lower lip between his teeth.

  “As uncontrollable as ever.”

  “Worse,” I said. “It’s been so long. Please!”

  “Little grabby sluts who beg are sometimes not given what they want.” I shook my head. No, I couldn’t bear it. He continued, leaning down to nuzzle against my cheek. “But sometimes, they are.”

  He slid inside me, all the way to the hilt. My whole body reacted to the astonishing pleasure, the feeling of being stretched by him. I remembered it, the delicious pleasure, and yet it was totally new. My hands flew wild. My arms came up off the bed. He caught them and held me down with his hard, immovable body. He arched forward again, then back. His pace quickened. I felt possessed by him, unable to move, giving up my will to the invasion of his flesh. My walls felt ready to explode, the pleasure was so intense. His pace quickened. I pressed against him and arched my back.

  “Yes, yes!” He drove me on as my incoherent noises rose in intensity. His pelvic bone ground against my clit. His fingers pinched my nipples, and the hot pressure sparked right to my center. His hips drove into me, dragged me across the bed. He gathered me up, and I pressed against him, dying for release.

  “Not yet.” He was gasping. “Not yet. Look at me.” It took a moment for his words to register. “Look at me, girl.” The tenor of his voice drew me back to attention. My gaze met his. He grabbed the collar and thrust his thumb into the ring. “You’re mine. Now come for me, girl. Let me see.”

  My pelvis convulsed. He yanked on the collar and I struggled against him. His gaze held mine, and he fucked me hard, banging against my pussy. I thrust my hips against him again and again as he held the collar tight. “Oh, oh!” My pleasure was growing, spreading wide. I felt a new closeness pulling us together, and not just where we were joined. My body and mind opened to him, and he gazed back at me. His other hand cradled me, squeezed my shoulder. I stared into those clear blue eyes and let everything go.

  I cried out as the orgasm shook me. The intensity was terrifying, white-hot. As the pulsing waves took over my body, I felt the part of us that was connected grow into something more, something bigger. A concordance of hearts. I felt hot tears on my cheeks, but I didn’t remember starting to cry. I was afraid. I was replete. I was aware, more than anything, that he held me tethered by the thick silver ring. The black circle. The gold ring on my finger. He had me. The circle was me and him.

  His hand tightened around the collar and he rocked against me, growling. His pelvis jerked in fits and starts as he rode out his own intense climax. His thick member pulsed inside my rippling walls until we both came to rest. My pussy contracted in soft, rhythmic aftershocks. With each wave, his cock seemed to swell anew inside me. My nipples still tingled with lingering sensation.

  After a moment his fingers unwound from the collar and moved up my neck to twine in my hair. I felt the soft pull, the caress of fingertips. His hot breath teased my ear. We both realized at the same time that my arms were still stretched over my head. We looked at each other and laughed. His chest hair tickled me, and I laughed harder. He thrust his tongue in my mouth and kissed me, then drew back. He smiled down at me.

  “You’re mine,” he said, as if I didn’t know it.

  When we woke in the morning, his finger was still crooked through the ring at my neck.

  *

  Jeremy groused about having to move to Cambridge, but we both agreed a long distance relationship just wasn’t going to work.

  “I want you by me, for me, under me, every fucking day,” he’d insisted as we lay together the night he came to take me back. “I don’t ever want to be away from you. Can you live with that?”

  “Yes, Jeremy.” I snuggled as close to him as I possibly could.

  I’d slept that night wrapped in his steel embrace, neither one of us willing to let an inch of space between us. We spent the next day alternately making plans and fucking. We’d be in the middle of packing or making notes or phone calls when he would just pull me down and take me. If the woman at the electric company wondered at the short, urgent gasps peppering our conversation, she was too polite to inquire what was going on.

  And I didn’t mind it at all. It felt absolutely perfect to be available to him again, to be filled with him when he wanted it. I’d felt empty in so many ways without him.

  The truck came for my things on Tuesday, and on Wednesday we flew out. We arrived in Boston and drove straight to the charming little house he’d bought me adjacent to campus. I didn’t even want to know what he’d paid for it, but I figured money could buy just about anything.

  Anything but love.

  And it must have been love between us, for Jeremy to leave his luxurious L.A. mansion to move into my tiny, modest house. In fact, it suited us perfectly, and we both felt strange whenever we returned to the L.A. house, like two kids wandering around in some museum. The only thing he missed about his L.A. house was the state-of-the-art dungeon there. Before the summer session was over, he had Kyle arrange to move the equipment here.

  Kyle visited us regularly. He still arranged Jeremy’s trips and photo shoots, alt
hough his job now was to streamline these duties into the shortest possible time. He was good at doing it too, just as he was good at doing everything else. He seemed inordinately pleased that everything had worked out for us. Without him, I suppose, it wouldn’t have. As I told him once, he had saved both of our lives.

  For now, Jeremy was taking a break from filming. He planned to look at scripts that could be set in Boston or possibly New York. I told him I could always take a semester off if he needed me to. We both agreed that spending more than a week apart was absolutely impossible.

  Most mornings when he was there, Jeremy walked to class with me. We held hands, ignoring the paparazzi who crouched behind the bushes to take their shots. It didn’t bother us so much, now that we had nothing to hide. Although the silly, cloying TOGETHER AGAIN! headlines were a little ridiculous for a while.

  “Beautiful day,” he always said as we walked, and I always agreed with him, because now, even the rainy, muggy summer days seemed beautiful and wonderful. He would walk me to the courtyard outside my classroom and kiss me lingeringly.

  “Be a good girl today, Miss Ashton,” he’d say.

  “Or what?” I’d ask, whispering in his ear.

  “Or you know what,” he would reply, nuzzling me softly. “You know what,” he’d tell me with that smile that always made me shake.

  Epilogue

  ‡

  I hurried down the sidewalk toward our little house. I looked ridiculous in my short, pleated schoolgirl skirt and skintight Harvard sweater, but I didn’t care. I’d been studying for exams like crazy the last week while Jeremy stood over me supervising, and now I was about to get my reward.

  As soon as I’d turned in my essays, I headed to the bathroom and locked myself in a stall to change into the little outfit Jeremy had tucked in my bag. The toy was there too, with a little trial-size packet of lubricant, like he’d fixed me some kind of twisted kinkster lunch. I inserted the plug gingerly, feeling like his naughty slut even though he was nowhere near, which I’m sure was what he intended. Next I pulled on the silky crimson thong.

 

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