Beautiful Pain

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Beautiful Pain Page 16

by J. M. Walker


  “Stop,” I demanded. “I understand. You don’t need to tell me any more.”

  She let out a breath, her shoulders slumping with relief. “I am falling in love with you.” She chewed her bottom lip, looking down at our joined hands. “I promised myself that I wouldn’t. But you,” she cupped my cheek. “You forced your way into my heart. As much as I tried, I couldn’t help these feelings. I was scared. I’m still scared. I don’t want to get hurt.”

  “Neither do I,” I admitted. “I don’t love easily. I have my father and that’s it. No other family. Before my mom died, my dad was caring, gentle, kind. He apparently was one of the nicest people around. Always willing to help the less fortunate. But after she died, he changed. Something inside of him snapped. I never knew him when he was loving.” My heart thumped, missing something that I never been allowed to have. “He never gave me the chance to love him.” I didn’t realize how much that hurt until now.

  “You should talk to him. I’ll come with you, if you’d like, “Mae suggested, turning in my arms. “I meant what I said.”

  “And what did you say?” I needed to hear her say it again.

  “Matteo, you already know.”

  “Tell me,” I pleaded, desperation coating my words.

  Mae slid onto my lap, cupping both of my cheeks and kissed me softly on the mouth. “I love you.”

  A sigh escaped me, my eyes fluttering closed. “Again,” I whispered.

  “I love you, Matteo. And it’s the smartest decision I’ve ever made.”

  To hear those words made me question everything I was ever taught.

  “Matteo—”

  “I love you,” I blurted.

  Mae’s eyes widened.

  I hugged her in a tight embrace, brushing my nose into the crook of her neck. “Loving you is easy.” I laid her on the couch, kneeling between her legs.

  “I’ve never been in love before,” Mae said, her eyes glittering with unshed tears.

  Well didn’t that make me want to pound my chest and grunt like a caveman. “I’ve never been in love before either.”

  “What about Morgan?”

  “Mae, I don’t want to ruin this moment by talking about her,” I snapped.

  “I’m sorry.” Mae pushed me back onto my haunches. “But I need to know what I’m dealing with. I need to know that our love is strong enough to handle the shit our pasts are dragging up.”

  “I’ve never loved Morgan. I refused to. I beat her, raped her, abused her in ways that would make your nightmares look like fantasies. I did it all because she made me. She consented to every single fucking thing. I knew it was wrong. I knew it wasn’t normal. But I had no choice. I didn’t consent to any of it. I didn’t want to hurt her even though she was evil. She is evil. She gets off on this sick twisted shit. She…fuck.” I rose from the couch, our romantic moment and confession of our love now tainted by the one and only woman who ever tried to control me.

  “Matteo, my love, it’s not your fault.”

  I turned to Mae abruptly. “How is not?” I shouted.

  Mae crossed her arms under her chest, staring me down. “You were a boy. Morgan got her deadly claws into you.”

  Mae—”

  “No. You listen to me, Matteo.” She rose to her feet, shoving a finger in my chest.

  Under normal circumstances, I would have laughed since we were both standing there naked, arguing. I grabbed the blanket, wrapping it around us both.

  She huffed, attempting to struggle out of my grip.

  I only grinned, knowing her defenses lowered whenever she felt my body against hers.

  “Matteo, I can’t talk to you like this,” she said, pushing against me.

  “And why not?” I teased, kissing the side of her neck.

  She sighed, leaning her forehead against my chest. “Because it’s distracting.”

  I chuckled, quite happy with myself. “I’ll behave.” For now.

  “Whatever happened between you and her and whoever else, was not your fault.”

  “Mae, I don’t want to talk about this.”

  “Listen to me. Please,” she said, her voice firm. “Even this last time when you saw her, it wasn’t your fault for reacting the way you did.”

  “You don’t know how I reacted,” I bit out through clenched teeth.

  “Then tell me.” She pulled back. “I saw you after the fact and you were mean.”

  “I told you to leave me alone,” I reminded her.

  “Right.” Mae scoffed. “And you would have done the same to me if I told you to leave me alone?”

  “Fuck that.” I gave her the blanket and pulled on my pants before heading into the kitchen.

  “Exactly, Matteo,” she said, following me. “Does she show up often? Does she always come and find you whenever she wants something?”

  “She shows up whenever she’s bored,” I mumbled, gripping the edge of the counter.

  “Does she know where you live?” Mae asked, coming up behind me.

  I huffed. “Mae, I don’t want to talk about her anymore alright?”

  “Fine.” She leaned against the counter across from me, pulling the blanket tight around her body. Her shoulders lifted and fell as she let out a heavy sigh. Her dark hair was mussed, framing her face in messy ringlets. She gave off a just fucked glow and I was proud to say that I was the reason for it.

  “You’re so beautiful,” I said, more to myself.

  Mae’s eyes slowly slid to mine. “You can’t compliment your way out of this, Sir,” she said, dryly.

  “Yes. I can,” I replied smoothly. “But I won’t.” I was tired. Of everything. I just wanted to take Mae and disappear, telling and showing her over and over that I loved her.

  I loved her.

  I. Loved. Her.

  I, Matteo Santos, was in love.

  Holy. Shit.

  Mae

  “Tell me you love me,” Matteo purred in my ear.

  “I love you,” I said, kissing him hard on the lips.

  “How much?”

  I stared intently into his dark eyes. “Are you doubting my love for you?”

  “No.” He looked away but not before I saw something flash in his gaze.

  “Matteo,” I grabbed his arm when he went to walk away. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing.” He shoved out of my grip, heading down the hall.

  “Sir,” I demanded. “Talk to me.”

  “Talk?” He spun on me, forcing me to take a step back. “Fine. I’ll fucking talk. The fact that I allowed myself to fall in love with you scares me. I refuse to break. I refuse to get hurt.”

  “Why now? Why are you questioning my feelings?” If anyone was going to get hurt, it would be me. Matteo was the only one who had the capability of destroying me. “Are you doubting that I love you? You demanded me to say it. You must know.”

  He searched my face.

  Before I knew what he was doing, he was on me. His mouth crushed mine in a hard bruising kiss. It was frantic. Desperation poured from the touch. We kissed like it was the last thing we would ever do.

  Matteo lifted me in his arms, carrying me to his bedroom. He whispered over and over that he loved me. That he was confused. And that he was sorry. He told me he needed me in ways that he didn’t understand.

  Morgan broke him. And I had no idea how to fix him. But I would start by showing him that I did in fact love him. My feelings were messed up. Stolen from me when my mother died. I lost my happiness until Matteo came into my life. As seconds wore on, I fell in love with him more and more. “I love you,” I breathed against his mouth. “Please believe me. I won’t hurt you. I won’t destroy you.”

  “I want to believe you. God.” He lowered his head into the crook of my neck, inhaling deep. “I love that you smell like me. I love…I love you. I’ve never felt this before. It…fuck, it hurts.”

  “I know.” I cupped his jaw, forcing him to look at me. “I will show you every day that I love you.”

  H
is eyes darkened, a shadow passing over his face. The vulnerability taking over stole my breath. It hurt, knowing his sadistic ways. I hadn’t met many Dom’s but I knew, just like anyone, they were human.

  “I didn’t think I could make you fall in love with me,” Matteo confessed, absent-mindedly brushing his finger in circles over my lower belly.

  “Why do you say that?” I asked, a flutter of unease making my heart thump.

  “It took me awhile to get any sort of emotion out of you. You talk like you’re reading a script.”

  “I do?” I frowned, sitting up on my elbows.

  “I’ve been a psychologist for over ten years. I’ve studied PTSD because I know that I have it. But I’ve never seen someone as closed off as you.”

  “You made me laugh. I’ve cried. I fell in love. Those are all emotions that you helped bring out of me.” I pointed at him. “You did this.”

  “It doesn’t always work that way.” Matteo sat up, leaning against the headboard. “When it comes to pain, how do you feel?”

  “What do you mean?” Did I not show that much emotion? I knew I closed off my feelings…

  “You shut off a part of your brain to protect yourself. It’s a common defense mechanism when a trauma happens.”

  “But you’ve had trauma in your life and you have emotion,” I pointed out, sitting beside him.

  “I’ve had more experience with masking my lack of emotion. But when it comes to pain—“

  “It makes you feel alive,” I answered for him.

  “Yeah,” Matteo slid his fingers between mine, brushing his thumb over the back of my hand.

  “Do you need pain like I do?” I asked, watching his thumb move in circles over my knuckles.

  “Why do you feel like you need pain?”

  “Because…it’s all I’ve known. I wasn’t introduced to sex in a gentle way. Pain was associated with the pleasure I was forced to feel but then…” Memories roared to the surface. Pain. Torture. An unexpected pleasure. “I didn’t want to enjoy it,” I said, my voice small.

  “Mae,” Matteo sighed. “I will help you enjoy the pleasure that pain can cause. We will make it be one in the same. Together.”

  “You would do that for me?”

  “Of course. We will be doing it for each other. I’m working on some research regarding PTSD and how BDSM can be used as therapy.” He grabbed his phone, pressed a couple of buttons and handed it to me. “This is a blog post from a submissive that was abused as a child. Read what she says about her Master.”

  My eyes snapped up. “Her Master?”

  “Just read,” he said, nodding towards the phone.

  “My name is Kitten. That’s all you need to know. I lost my true identity when my innocence was ripped out of my hands at the brutal force of a man. A man I had trusted. It got to the point, it was all I knew. He started on me at a young age. Before I hit puberty. Before I had a voice of my own. Pain turned into pleasure, mixing as one. I didn’t understand why I loved the brutal force of his touch. Or why I anticipated each night that he came to visit me. A pedophile doesn’t want their victims to enjoy the abuse. It makes them look weak. I didn’t know this until it was explained to me by my Master.”

  “Wow,” I said, shaking my head. “This is intense.”

  Matteo grunted. “It is.” He moved the page down a little bit on the screen. “Read this part.”

  “My Master is my hero. Not just when he saved me from my nightmares or the demons that haunted my past. But when he saved me from myself. Why would a broken soul feel the need to live life to its fullest when they were never wanted in the first place? I had tried so many times to end my life but it was like something had prevented me from dying each and every single time. Master say it’s because God was keeping me alive for him. And I tend to agree.

  When Master introduced me to BDSM, he unleashed the masochist inside of me in a controlled and consensual way. I learned, thanks to him, that enjoying some pain with my kink, is okay.”

  “She has been with her Master for three years now and they plan on getting married,” Matteo explained. “They’re also going to be doing a collaring ceremony at a local BDSM club they frequent.”

  I nodded, soaking up what he was saying but I found that I couldn’t help but focus on her words. “Enjoying pain is okay,” I whispered, reading that sentence over and over.

  “Mae,” Matteo pinched my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. His chocolate brown eyes softened. “It’s okay. Let me give you what I know you crave.”

  We never talked about it. The pain just came and went depending on the mood. “Please.”

  He smiled. “I’m going to do more research. I want to help you…help us through this.”

  “I want to help you too, my love.”

  His strong jaw clenched. “I know and I also know that I need to loosen some of my control.”

  “You need to let me in,” I added. “I’m not Morgan.”

  “I know that,” he snapped, pulling away from me.

  “See? You’re doing it again.” I rose from the bed, getting dressed.

  “Doing what exactly, Marketa?”

  “God, Matteo, you shut me out. You accuse me of closing down but you do the exact same shit,” I said, pulling on my clothes.

  “Do I?”

  “Yes!” I spun on my heel, ready to spout off everything I had felt when I found Matteo right behind me. My heart skipped a beat at the raging heat in his eyes. “Matteo,” I squeaked out.

  “What, Mae? Don’t feel like yelling at me anymore? You no longer in the mood to demand things of me?” He took a step towards me, forcing me back until I hit the dresser.

  “I-I…” I stuttered, unaware of what was about to happen. I knew I should have kept my mouth shut. I knew I shouldn’t have pressed to the point it pissed him off. But when he demanded things from me and didn’t reciprocate, I refused to back down.

  “You want me to let you in?” His face hardened. “You want behind these walls I have spent years building even though you have built the exact same ones?”

  “I …I want it.”

  A wicked grin slowly spread on his face. “I’ll let you in.” He pulled me in front of him. “You thought I was mean before but you just pissed me off. Do you know what happens when you piss off a sadist?” he asked, pushing me forward.

  “No.” But I knew I was going to find out.

  “I’m going to show you. Strip.”

  “Matteo—”

  “I fucking said, strip!” he bellowed.

  I jumped, fumbling to take my clothes off.

  “Get on your knees, girl,” he demanded as I pulled off the last bit of clothing.

  “Matteo, ple—”

  “Shut the fuck up.” His fingers wrapped in my hair, pushing me to my knees.

  I whimpered, a flush of desire spreading over my skin like molten lava.

  “Now crawl, pet.” He gripped my hair, pulling until I felt the strands ripping free from my skull.

  I winced, crawling along beside him.

  “You want inside of my mind. You want to know what I’m thinking. What my desires are.”

  “I know what your desires are,” I said softly.

  “Do you?” He stopped at a closed door. “You’ve been in here once. Well, my beautiful girl, I’ve done some modifications.”

  Not knowing what to expect, I waited. I enjoyed this side of Matteo. The need to be owned and dominated grew as each command left his mouth. Knowing that I had a safeword helped. It gave me some control but I still felt that something was missing.

  Matteo pushed open the door, pulling me by the hair until I cried out.

  “I enjoy the whimpers and cries of pain leaving your delicious mouth.” He tugged my head back, wrapping his free hand around my throat. “Stick out your tongue.”

  I did as I was told.

  “This tongue likes to wrap around words it doesn’t understand.” He licked along my mouth, diving deep between my lips. “Hmm…” H
e released me, pulling me further into the room. “Take in your surroundings, pet.” He kissed my cheek, digging his fingers into my jaw. “You are in for a world of pain.”

  Mae

  My eyes widened as I gazed around the room. Contraptions and equipment covered every inch of the large room. The walls were painted a dark charcoal grey, the floor was lined with actual cement.

  “What…” I took a breath, looking up at the man who loved me. But at this moment, I knew he would push those feelings aside to give me the sadistic part of him that I needed.

  “Meet your dungeon.” Matteo released me, shutting the door and clicked the lock into place. “I’ve tried to have patience. We both have been through hell. We both are desperate to find out what the other needs.”

  “I need you,” I said, my voice small.

  He walked around me, putting a hand over my hand before heading to a cabinet on the other side of the room. “I know. I can see it in your eyes every time I look at you. But I can see it especially when I inflict pain on your beautiful body.”

  My hands were folded together on my thighs, a slight burn of anxiety erupting through my being. To need another person to the point it took your breath away was unconventional. All you could think about was them. I went to bed every night with the image of Matteo seared into my mind. And I woke each morning, craving the feeling of his arms wrapped around my body. Never letting me go.

  “Do not be ashamed of enjoying pain.” He placed a hard kiss on my lips.

  “I’m not ashamed. But I am surprised at how much I enjoy it since being with you,” I confessed, my fingers itching to touch him. But I knew it was against the rules. As much as I loved defying him, I didn’t want any extra time spent on punishing me. I wanted him. In any way he could allow himself to give me. I wanted Matteo Santos in all of his beautiful sadistic glory.

  Matteo kissed me again. “Stand up.”

  I allowed him to pull me to my feet and walk me over to a leather bench. My heart sped up, a cold shiver of sweat racing down my spine. Memories both dark and twisted, swirled in my mind. Matteo wasn’t them. He wouldn’t hurt me. Not unless I asked for it. Consensual. Always consensual.

 

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