Love's Darkest House

by Ginny Lynn

  I scrubbed my face in the quaint bathroom and slipped into my comfortable pajama set that wasn’t worn for its looks. They were a faded pair of men’s small cotton pajamas which were once a proud red but had succumbed to a washed out pink. Even if they were threadbare in a few places, they carried the warmth I needed tonight. As the storm was rolling into the quiet house, my chills rose to meet the strange electricity in the air.

  My visionary issues were bad enough without an extra ounce of power in the atmosphere. Some storms were like a static-covered blanket being wrapped around my sensitive frame. It could be a layer of warmth but it could also be uncomfortable, like clothes two sizes too small. Tonight, was closer to the latter with my nerves being on edge from the happenings of the day. Was it too much to ask for the simple life again? Would it be possible with the acceptance of the estate? Somehow, I doubted it was my staying here for a couple of nights that had me on a binge of emotions that gathered too easily in the pit of my stomach.

  Sitting on the bed, Indian style, had me where I could nudge myself into a more suitable space to meditate. Using the rumble from the sky as my white noise, I focused my mental hands to push aside the house and all 16 acres, the papers that waited for me in the library, the attorney with his strange way of dealing with me, the vision from earlier, and just as I went to give the greatest shove of them all to Kenrick Giles, two things happened. First, the candle on the nightstand blew out in a single puff of sound and he grabbed me back. As I had to be in a dream state for him to be with me, time must have slunk away while in my headspace.

  His strong lean hand was wrapped in a vice grip around my slim wrist. This wasn’t possible before I had come to this house of whispers and sadness. What the hell was going on with my accursed powers? Before, I’d been able to banish all visions and could meditate my way out of almost any escalating situation. Now, here, in this place, I was only a small part of something greater. I had no idea what that was but I didn’t like having a new addition to something which already had me on the weird spectrum of life. This is why a simple taste of life would be so wonderful. Simple would save me from insanity. Simple was not what I found at Fenmore Estate.

  Chapter Six

  Something crawled across the line of our bodies, as he held me firmly. It was invisible but tangible, like the thunder that filled the ozone. He tugged and I rooted myself. In my mental playground, I was standing stock still as I used all of my metaphysical weight to move the objects from my cluttered mind. A part of me knew I was still sitting on the vintage bed but the rest felt as real as being bustled around a crowded mall. This was pushing at my personal space but in a more intimate way.

  I reached my other hand out as I tried to pry him off of me, but he countered by grabbing them both.

  “No,” I informed the dreamed up Kenrick.

  He heaved and it was more than I could fight as he was twice my size. I landed against his chest with a thud which knocked the air out of me. It was as if he possessed the magic of a wizard as I no longer felt the pressure of the mattress springs under my legs. Somehow, he had not only kept me from pushing him away but had taken over completely. This had to be my subconscious playing tricks on me because this was just not possible. My body had longed for a safe sexual touch for so long that my brain was more than willing to make the closest handsome male the center of my newly acquired erotic dreams. With this not being in real life, I could submit to some of my needs but giving in would not be like me. Was I truly myself in these queer moments?

  My hands were held a yard apart in his flesh covered handcuffs and I only had to look up to see the striking face staring down at me. His eyes were still the focal point, but there was a ghost of a smirk on his arrogant face. As if he knew he had the upper hand in a place that had no physical hands to speak of. I had lost it. Knowing how kooky my life had turned I’d wake up in a padded cell wearing a very snug white jacket with scuffed buckles in the back. At least they would serve me oatmeal and brush the mats from my hair as I drooled and giggled hysterically.

  I heard myself whimper, “No” as I didn’t want to picture myself in the nut house.

  “Yes,” he replied.

  “Why are you here?” I questioned him as if he was my subconscious needing to explain itself.

  “I’m drawn to you.”

  “I’m not a magnet, so that can’t be true. I need to know what the hell is going on.”

  “Yes, it is as true as any other.”

  “Any other what?” Confusion had my visions speaking in riddles.

  “You are my spider web, my magnet, my pheromone. You have but to flex your will and I am there.”

  “Bullshit. This is my mind playing terrible games with me and you’re a figment of my stress. I can block you out just like I do everything else; I just have to try harder,” I said sternly to convince myself.

  It was as if my dream was turning into a nightmare because I was too depressed to think happy thoughts. The fairy tales were correct that you have to force the negative away in every part of your being, mental and physical, in order to be a well-rounded person.

  I stiffened my resolve in my mind, even with my hands being held away from me, I squeezed my eyes shut and yelled, “No!”

  With my eyes so tightly pressed together, I willed him to be gone, but all I heard was the thumping of my heart in the midst of the storm outside my glass window. Then, he laughed, low and seductive. I chanted to myself that this wasn’t real. Having no real arm strength, I couldn’t get him to let go by yanking so I went to kick him in the groin. Just as the thought turned into action, I was pulled to him in a way that had my body snuggly fitted against his. Again, my mind knew and counteracted.

  “Let’s see if you can stop this, my dear. Now we test your will and see if you can feel more than my strength against yours with my lust riding across your delicate skin.”

  I dared not open my eyes as I didn’t want to see him in this way. Not with seduction on his wicked tongue. I pleaded for myself to wake up. Wake from this dream that had grown out of simple chemistry for a sexy male. Wake from the temptation which dared to happen. Wake and break the spell before I was a sleeping victim of this want and desire. But all I felt was the press of his lips as the thunder rolled across our bodies.

  Such an innocent touch was deceiving. The kiss grew like the air that rolled the center of the storm over us. I had become the central area where the line separated dark from light and prey from predator. I knew which I was and it scared me but not enough to shock me awake. He leaned into me as he pulled my arms to my sides, increasing the amount of our bodies touching. As his arms crept along my ticklish waist, I was yanked the last bit against him where my breasts were a mashed ripeness against his ribs.

  I felt his breath exhale over the low-cut cotton of my top and against the skin forced upward from his actions. His arms had mine locked in place even while I tried to pry them loose. I grunted my frustration at him and got a hungrier kiss for my trouble. His mouth slid across mine as if trying to get the flavor of me, like licking the frosting off of a decadent cupcake. This was not supposed to feel good. Damn it.

  He nipped at my full bottom lip and got a gasp out of me as his reward. He made a sound of success and slipped his warm tongue into my mouth. This wasn’t like any kiss before. This was the cake being devoured, down to every last crumb. I’d never been treated in such a manner. It took me by surprise at how my body wanted to be completely finished off. How could a metaphysical experience be more than I had experienced since losing my virginity at the tender age of nineteen? I’d been in college and had found the moment so lackluster I had avoided the boy at all costs after that. I had even taken a few drinks before the event so I would be less likely to throw myself into a vision at the touch of this very boring man. Both had done the trick as I had been determined to treat it like a business arrangement. Men aren’t the only ones who don’t call you after a one-night stand. I never even felt guilty for the guy as it had been his firs
t time as well. I saw it as another hurdle that had been taken care of in my life and moved on.

  He nipped at me in between lapses of teasing me with his talented tongue. I was so overcome that I had to clench my fists in the fabric of my pajamas to fight grabbing his thighs. I wanted to touch him. And just like that, I got my freaking wish. He let go of my arms and shoved one hand into my tousled hair while the other grabbed my butt cheek. The grip in my hair pulled me to a different angle and caused me to steady myself as I set my hands on his manly hips. My fingernails convulsed into the denim form of him as he squeezed my butt, pushing me into his groin.

  Lightning struck near us and a gasp ripped from my surprised form. As I fought for air, he moved to my pale neck and the side that had been free of my hair while he’d gripped my head so tightly. It was just this side of pain, so I didn’t fight it. Maybe it was what he had intended, for me to be submissive. Little did he know I wasn’t some homegrown virgin. I had needs and he was making me pay attention to them, in small glimpses. The last sexual encounter I had ended with me concentrating so hard on not having a vision the man had called me a dead fish. But how can a girl like me let loose on a man if any strong emotion could throw me into a vision filled nightmare which centered on the man entering you? Celibacy had been my answer, almost two years ago.

  I lost my train of thought as he lightly bit my neck. My knees buckled as he hit one of my erogenous zones. He scooped me up and placed me on the bed that magically appeared back into my vision. Instead of my empty headspace, I saw myself back in the bedroom I had at the estate. This time, my legs were too weak to carry me out of there. I let him set me in the middle of the queen sized mattress and surprised myself by staying there as he looked down at me.

  “I want to know how you would look under me, Renata.”

  “Excuse me?”

  He leaned down, lying beside me. “Other than acceptance, words are not what I need from you right now.”

  Then he was kissing me again. Feeling a brief brush of air on my stomach, I realized he was unbuttoning my pajama shirt. Instinctively, my hands were in his hair as he kissed the hell out of me. Before I could come up for air, his hot palm was splayed across one of my naked breasts. He went to nip at my collarbone as his hand went from one eager nipple to the other in a dance over my pale skin. I shivered at the delicate touch of his hands as his mouth ate at the skin of my neck and downward.

  His mouth replaced those hands as they swept over my ribs and down to draw circles around my small navel. I was past ticklish and on my way to raw need. I could feel him fumble at my drawstring waistband just as he bit into a taut nipple. My fists clenched around his arms as I fought not to flop on the bed. Once I felt him tug at the string at my hips, I fought the moan that was sure to follow. And it did, as soon as he slipped his talented hand down the front and around my sex. He bit the other nipple and I writhed under him as he took that moment to push a finger inside me.

  I was surprised my body was yielding to him as it had been so long since anyone had gotten this far with me. I felt him move around me but dared not open my eyes as he could be gone from this dream with one simple movement. If this was to be a subconscious seduction then I was now a willing participant. There was no clue as to why I could do this but as my body began to sing to me, I couldn’t deny myself the simple pleasure of a sexy moment of sleepy surrender. Here there were no fears of a physical touch causing a wicked vision and no chance of regret as it wasn’t truly real.

  He bathed my aching nipples with his tongue as he swept from one to the other, and then blew across them in a breath which was too cold to come from human lungs. I ached for him. I wanted him fiercely. Basic carnal need was all I could focus on. The booming thunder outside became one with my heart as it fought to release from my rib cage in one bounding leap. If this kept up I would be at the point of begging to have it released for me. Do you ask your lover to cut out the heart which only leaps for them? No, you ask that trusted person to give it wings and you fly together.

  He spread butterfly light kisses across my stomach while he used the distraction to pull my pants as low as possible. Once my brain grasped his intentions, I lifted my weak legs just enough for the cotton to be slipped to the floor. Suddenly, I knew there was no going back. I may not have said the words but I had just given my seducer a clear affirmation that I wanted him to take me.

  Reaching for him, I began to play my fingertips down the plains of his stomach but he moved away from me. I felt lost for a moment. Why had he stopped me? Then I understood his intentions when he seized my thighs to set himself between them. My soul rejoiced. My nails set into his shoulders as I noticed he had somehow removed his clothes while taking advantage of my limp body. I had no idea how but I was happy to not have the added barrier between us when he pushed his lean frame between my small curvy legs.

  His hands were on each side of my face, playing in the hair fanned across the covers. Reaching up, I kissed him, like he’d been kissing me, with fire. Intention. Passion. He had so much strength in his athletic form that he didn’t interrupt the kiss to set his groin against mine. The tip of him pushed against my belly and showed me how deep he would be inside of me. I groaned. He flexed and I could tell what he would feel like inside of me. Moving. I wanted that. Now.

  Somehow, he knew it. It was as if his joining my dreams made him privy to the dark areas which never saw the light of day. But then again, it was my dream so I’d take the responsibility for this one. The loneliness, the desire, and the need to be accepted as the freak that I am, all of these were fresh and open inside of me. This was truly a dream as I was everything in that one moment between reality and a world of my own making. Here, I could be what I wanted and right now, I wanted to be fucked.

  His head slid across me and I shivered with anticipation. Slowly, he slipped into me. It was agonizing how gradually he fit himself inside of me. I wanted to squirm, shake, or throw myself around him. Once he knew this, he chuckled as he pinned my arms above my head.

  “Mine, not yours,” he whispered into my ear.

  The question had to be written across his face as he replied, “My will, not yours.”

  As I began to ask more questions, he thrust himself inside of me and I was lost. He gave me a second to take him all in and then set a frustrating pattern. Pulling almost all the way out, he would only slip back in slim increments, teasing me. I was on the verge of yelling at him when he impaled me back onto the bed. Following that with a few more teases, he leaned down to grab a firm nipple in his mouth, bit down and thrust himself so far into me I could feel him at the end of me. That was all it took. I soared.

  I shattered so hard that a gasp of unbridled pleasure poured itself out of me before waves of passion had me with my nails deep into his shoulder blades. I was unfastened. Stars were in my vision and he jerked again. I moaned as my core quaked against his manhood in a dance of passion. I was feeling the French death and wanted it. I could die on this pyre. This was a good way to die. If he could remake me, I would allow him to shatter me again and again. In that moment, with the dazzling lights dancing across my vision and the waves of spent lust driving through me, I found a black peace, which welcomed me into its arms. Then all of me slept.

  ****

  A sliver of sunshine pierced through the curtains to spray warmth across my face. Stretching, I began to wake from the best sleep I had had in over a year. Insomnia had been riding side-saddle since I had heard about my job disintegrating. I had taken to hobbies to fill the empty hours when the world was in a dream state. Cross stitch wasn’t my thing as it stressed me out at every attempt but I did have success with a couple of knitted shrugs for the days when I had found a few skeins of yarn on the clearance rack. Hobbies on a budget weren’t as fun. Books were my main love and why I had liked the small library on the second floor most out of the other rooms in this large house.

  I decided I would grab some hot tea and take it to the library and look over the papers again.
Laying there, as all my senses began to join in on the day, I got a flashback of my very vivid dream from last night. Oh, my God. I jerked up, in alarm at what I was remembering. I had had hot blooded sex with Kenrick in my dream. Holy shit! Looking down at myself, I had to say it was a dream because I was fully clothed and alone in this warm bed.

  A part of me was glad I hadn’t succumbed to the passion of the very real version of Kenrick Giles but the rest of me wanted it to be as real as the touchable velvet in my room. I wanted to have it as a keepsake I could touch at random and feel the heavy thread of it. A small thrill ran through me as I recalled how quickly he had me burning in flames. I was embarrassed but wondered if it would have been even better in the flesh, instead of in my head. My luck would have turned it into something less sexy and more like a make-out blooper from a B rated scary movie. Women were turned on more quickly when you engaged their minds but this hadn’t been a sexy date night full of temptations.

  I slid out of the bed and went for a shower before going downstairs for my cup of tea. I hoped to add sugar this time but couldn’t remember if there had been any in the pantry. I had been distracted by that creepy door at the time. Somehow, I had gained an appetite overnight. Red meat would have been delicious but I did not believe there would be a rib-eye waiting for me in the camouflaged fridge downstairs. Bacon or some link sausages would be second best, but here was hoping for at least a couple of eggs to scramble up.

  Laundry would need to be handled today if I was to keep up with the cooling weather. I was wearing the last of my non-summer clean clothes as I slipped on my flannel lined leggings and the large chambray shirt with corduroy patches at the elbows. It swallowed me as I had lost weight with my dwindling grocery money. My last pair of thick socks were pulled on before I jogged downstairs with a growling belly.