by Ana Medeiros
He desperately wanted to shout and vocalize the satisfaction he was feeling. Julian was so immersed in his own pleasure that when she pressed her saliva covered finger inside of him, Julian didn’t flinch. He took a series of deep breaths, coercing his body to relax. As Alana kept him deep in her mouth, he felt her finger move forward, slowly, until it was as far as possible inside of him. The pressure of it, laced with the insinuation of pain, propelled Julian into a dense haze where Alana, the bookstore, the voices downstairs and even his own body ceased to exist. His orgasm hit him so violently that he experienced an unadulterated state of deliverance.
With the last spasms rolling over his body, Julian opened his eyes and saw Alana still kneeling at his feet, her tongue licking him and her finger hidden in him. The dress shirt he wore under the V-neck sweater was glued to his body by a thick layer of sweat.
Standing up, Alana stared down at him. “Now I want you to take me to your place and show me exactly what you’ve been thinking of doing to me all day.”
Julian looked up at Alana and a violent surge of dominance ran through him. “I’m never letting you go.” They were the same words he had told her in the shower a few weeks ago.
“Why?” she whispered, her eyes never leaving his.
“Because since the day I saw you, you’ve always been mine.”
• • •
By the time they crossed the doorstep of his condo it was nighttime. Having removed her boots and jacket, Alana stood in the foyer in knee-high black wool stockings over a pair of sheer nylons. Julian wasn’t sure if her oversized sweater was meant to be a dress or if she had just decided that she should wear it as one.
He still couldn’t believe she was as old as she said she was and part of him wondered if she had lied to him about her age.
“Come here,” he said, leaning against the wall.
She moved toward him, stopping when the tips of her toes touched his.
“Look at me.”
She lifted her eyes to him. Julian didn’t move. The top of her head didn’t even reach his collarbone. Suddenly their difference in size scared him. Without warning, Julian closed his hand around her neck. His grip wasn’t strong enough to prevent her from breathing, but he was exerting enough pressure to make her uncomfortable. As he lowered his head toward her, he pulled her up slightly, their faces a mere few inches apart. Alana didn’t say anything but he felt her swallow hard.
“Do you understand what I can do to you?”
She continued to stare back at him and he could feel her breath fan his face.
“Do you?” he repeated.
“Why are you doing this? To scare me? To get off?”
“So you understand how vulnerable you really are. Remember, Alana? You need to protect yourself.” Julian brought her face even closer to his and that made her grasp the hand he had around her throat. “From me, Thompson and every other man at The Raven Room.”
“This is not about me. Never was. This is about you.”
“I’m doing this because I care for you.”
“You care for me? You’re saying all of this because you hope I can stop you from hurting me. But guess what? It’s not on me to stop you. It’s on you.”
“Yes, I want to control you. I want to hurt you. I want to tie you up, blindfold you, gag you, spank you, hear your screams, see your tears, smell your arousal, feel the sweat on your skin, taste your blood. I want you, Alana. All of you.”
“Why?”
“I told you.”
“Why Julian?”
“Because that’s who I am.”
“Show me.”
“Show you?” he repeated, not letting go of her neck. He was looking at her like he was in agony.
“Yes. Show me who you are.”
“Don’t, Alana.”
“Please, Reeve, I need this as much you do.”
Julian felt her hands on his hair, on his face, and he wasn’t sure if it was the look in her eyes or the way she said his name, but placing both of his hands under her thighs, he lifted her up and carried her to the bedroom. He threw Alana in the middle of his bed. With one swift movement, together with her knee-high stockings, he removed her nylons and discarded them on the floor. He did the same thing to her bra and oversized sweater. She was fully naked in front of him. Pressing her face into the mattress, Julian pulled her onto all fours, her knees on the edge of the bed. Unbuckling his belt, he unzipped his jeans and brought her lower body closer to his. He held on to her hips, driving himself fully inside of her. She cried out.
“Is this what you want, huh?” he asked, aware he was hurting her. She wasn’t ready.
“No. And it’s not what you want. More. I want more.”
The cadence of their bodies coming together was the only sound in the otherwise silent bedroom. Julian grabbed Alana’s hair with one hand and, wrapping the long stands around his fingers, he tugged. “Why? Tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
He tugged again, making her head jerk back. “Why did you come into my life?”
Alana spread her legs further apart and that made him slide deeper inside of her.
“You came into mine,” she said, her voice breaking. “You did.”
Without warning, Julian stepped back and turned her so she was facing him. With his body hovering over hers, he brushed her hair away from her eyes and held her face between his hands.
“Remember the first time I saw you at the club? Thompson had his cock inside of you but you weren’t giving him any part of you. You were making it your own experience. Your pleasure was your own. It was beautiful. You are beautiful.”
“Julian…” Tears fell from the corners of her eyes, rolling over his hands.
“I’m right here,” he whispered, caressing her cheek, running his fingers in slow circles over her tear-streaked skin. “Right here.” Removing his clothes, he joined her. When he entered her again, Alana’s body didn’t fight him.
“Give into it,” she said, wrapping her arms and legs around him.
“Alana…” Julian’s voice carried a warning.
“Give into me.”
Suddenly, Julian stopped moving inside of her. He got up and went to stand by the large window, his chest heaving with his laborious breathing. He stared at her on the bed.
“Face me, on your knees, legs open,” he demanded, his voice harsh.
She kept her eyes on his face for a minute longer. Propping herself up on her elbows, Alana was breathing just as hard as he was. She followed his instructions.
“Touch yourself.” Julian licked his dry lips. “That’s it, make it feel good.” Remaining very still, he continued to watch her. “Three fingers. I want to see them go inside of you.”
She tilted her head, making her long hair fall over her shoulder, touching the curve of her breast.
“Tell me when you’re about to come.”
He stood, not touching his erection. All of Julian’s attention was on her. The bedroom wasn’t overly warm but beads of sweat covered his chest, droplets sliding over his stomach.
“I’m close,” Alana said, trying to stay upright.
Hearing her, he got back on the bed, kneeling in front of her. Julian slapped her hand aside. “Stop touching yourself.”
There was a mix of confusion and expectation on Alana’s face. He stroked her hair. “Open the drawer on the nightstand to your left.” Julian’s eyes never left her.
“What am I looking for?” she asked.
“You’ll see.”
As she searched inside of the drawer, Julian took in the shape of her naked back. He imagined running his hands up and down the sides of her torso, absorbing her warmth through his open palms.
Alana turned to face him, holding in her hand the only object he kept in the drawer. She didn’t say anything but she didn’t have to.
“Use it on me,” he demanded.
Looking down at the razor blade in her hand, and then up again at Julian, she shook her head. “I can’
t.”
“I need it. I want you to be the one to give it to me.”
“Not this.”
“Do it, Alana.”
“I can’t.”
“Do it,” he repeated. “Right here.” He touched his upper arm.
“I’ve noticed the scars hidden under your tattoo. You used to be a cutter.”
“Yes.”
“But you don’t have any recent scars.”
“It’s either you or me.”
“Why?”
“Alana, do as I tell you.”
“I can’t do it.”
“Alana—”
“Listen to me, Julian—”
Moving fast, he took a hold of her hand with the razor and brought it closer to his arm. Alana screamed, turning her body away from Julian and forcing him to use his own body to immobilize her. Just as he was about to close his arms tightly around her, she elbowed him in the groin. Julian winced in pain and Alana took the opportunity to escape across the room.
“What are you doing?” Julian asked, narrowing his eyes. He didn’t move but his body was ready to act. His muscles were taut, strained by the tension running though him.
In a succession of quick and short movements, she started to cut along her arm. “How does it feel, huh? Watching me cut myself? Does it hurt?”
“Alana, don’t!” Julian jumped from the bed and closed the space between them with large strides. He seized her hand and squeezed her wrist. “Drop the razor.”
“Feel it, Julian!” She was shouting, trying to keep the razor close to her skin. Some of the cuts had started to bleed and, as they struggled, Julian’s naked body became covered in red smears. “I want you to feel it!”
“Stop it, Alana! Drop the fucking razor.”
They both fell to the floor. Holding her from behind, he threw his legs over hers and as he held one of her arms close to her chest, he kept the hand with the blade away from her.
“It hurts, huh? It fucking hurts when someone you love hurts themselves, doesn’t it?”
“Drop it,” he repeated, holding her against the floor. He squeezed her wrist tighter and Alana yelped in pain. “Let go of the razor. Do it.”
Julian was panting. With his body covering hers, he could feel Alana’s sobs shaking her frame. He saw her open her fingers and drop the razor. Not hesitating, he threw it across the room. He didn’t try to move away from Alana or to lessen his hold on her.
“Let me go.” She was the first to speak and her throat sounded raw.
Julian pressed his forehead against her temple. “Are you done hurting yourself?”
“Yes! Let me go.”
He took a deep breath, his lips on the curve of her jaw. He waited a bit longer but eventually he moved his arms and legs away from her. As soon as he eased his hold, Alana got up and went to pick up her sweater, putting it on as fast as she could.
“You’re bleeding. Let me look at your cuts.”
“Stay where you are,” she said, seeing him get up from the floor.
“Alana, where are you going?”
He followed her and she turned around, facing him. “I’m leaving, do you understand?”
“Before you leave, I have to look at your cuts.”
She closed her eyes and took a steadying breath. Turning her back on him, she walked toward the front door, leaving her stockings and nylons behind.
Julian watched her grab her purse, her jacket and her boots. Not stopping to put them on, she opened the door and, before closing it behind her, she glanced at him. “We can’t be together. If we do one of us will die.”
After she left, Julian continued to stand in the hall, naked, with Alana’s blood on his body.
Chapter 21
Meredith hadn’t heard from Julian so she decided show up on his doorstep. It wouldn’t be the first time she knocked on his door unannounced. Julian was the only person she didn’t mind showing her irrational side to. He had many faults, but he always seemed to understand where she was coming from, even when her behavior reflected her more embarrassing flaws.
After taking a shower and putting on a pair of comfortable jeans, t-shirt and a hoodie, Meredith took a cab to Julian’s condo. There was no way she was going to drive. The mix of snow and rain was a dangerous combination. It took her twice as long to get there and by the time she stepped up to his front door, she was ready for a tall glass of wine. She knocked, waiting to see if he was home. After a few seconds, she knocked again. Putting her ear to the door, she had heard a noise coming from the other side. She knocked a third time.
“Julian? It’s me, open the door,” Meredith said, pounding on the door. “I know you’re in there.”
Frustrated by the lack of response, she banged her palm on the door. “The cab ride to get here cost me more than twenty dollars. I had to give my phone number to the concierge so he would let me up and now your neighbors are about to find out how batshit crazy the women in your life are,” she shouted, not ceasing to bang on the door. “I’m not leaving until you speak to me.”
Meredith put more effort into slamming both of her hands on the door, expecting at any second to see security stepping out of the elevator. “Goddammit—”
Catching her hands midair, the door opened and she found herself staring at Julian. “What the hell, why aren’t you getting back to me?”
“Go away, Meredith.”
“What?”
“Go away.”
“Fuck that.” She walked past him, entering his condo. “I come all the way here because I’m worried about you and this is how you talk to me?”
Facing her, he held the door open. “Please leave.”
She stood with her hands on her waist, looking at him with determination. “No.”
Julian grabbed her by the arm and started to push her toward the door.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Getting you to leave.”
“Stop it. You don’t get to treat me this way.”
As she felt Julian tightening his grasp on her, she stopped thinking and instinct took over. Putting all of her body weight into it, she slapped him. As soon as her hand made contact with his cheek, Julian let go of her and took a few steps back. With his back touching the wall, he slid to the floor. Elbows on his knees, head hanging forward, he closed his hands on the back of his neck.
Meredith stood, her palm stinging. She watched him on the floor and when he didn’t move or look up at her, she closed the door. Getting rid of her jacket, she approached Julian and extended her hand out to him.
“C’mon, get up,” she said, her voice firm but kind.
He didn’t react but Meredith didn’t waver.
Several seconds went by before he grabbed her hand and came to stand. Wearing only a pair of old sweats, she noticed his unkempt hair, the dark circles under his eyes and the several days’ worth of facial hair growth that had almost become a full beard. She frowned when the odor of his unwashed body hit her and it made her wonder how long Julian had been locked up in his condo. Seeing the small streaks of dried-up blood on his body made Meredith pause.
Not letting go of Julian’s hand, she led the way into the bedroom. All the lights were off but the curtains were pulled back, opening up the room to the breathtaking view of the city. Meredith saw the pile of large pillows and blankets on the floor by the window. That’s where he had been when she had showed up at his doorstep.
Sitting on the large pillows, Meredith wrapped herself with one of the soft blankets. She and Julian were side by side, their shoulders almost touching, facing the downtown skyline as a heavy fog began to form and obscure the tallest buildings.
“I’m sorry I grabbed your arm.”
Meredith nodded, continuing to look straight ahead. “I’m sorry I slapped you.”
“I needed it.”
“When was the last time you stepped outside?”
“A week ago, I think.”
“Shit. Why didn’t you reply to any of my texts or phone
calls?”
“Maybe I wanted you to come.”
She sighed, rubbing her forehead. “You’re lucky to have me, you know that?”
He nodded.
Glancing at the red smears on his chest, she decided it was time to ask him. “Whose blood is that?”
“Alana’s.”
“Alana’s?”
“Uh-huh.”
“What the hell happened, Julian? Is she here?”
“Not anymore.”
“Tell me what happened.”
For a while the only sound in the room was Julian’s deep voice as he described to Meredith what had taken place between him and Alana. He never took his eyes away from the lights sprawled below them and by the time he finished speaking, Meredith couldn’t take her eyes away from his face.
The silence between them was as thick as the fog descending upon the city and while she searched for the best thing to say, she reached for Julian’s hand and wrapped her fingers though his. She felt him holding on tightly.
“I’m not well, Meredith,” he said, his face in his hands. “There’s something very wrong with me.”
She swallowed hard. She didn’t know how to handle whatever it was he was dealing with but turning her back on him felt wrong. All she could do was make him talk to her.
“Because you asked Alana to cut you? I’ve never done it but there are a lot of people who are into it. I wouldn’t say that makes you crazy…hey, sometimes I get off on hate-fucking douchebags. No one is perfect.”
With his face still in his hands Julian shook his head. “I wanted to cut her. Not me. Her. But I couldn’t get myself to do it so I forced her to cut me.”
Meredith squeezed his hand. “Why couldn’t you?”
Julian didn’t reply.
“Is that why you go to The Raven Room?” Meredith continued, touching the back of Julian’s head. She started to caress his hair. “Is that what you do down there? You cut women?”
“Please, Meredith. Please don’t.”