by L. C. Moon
She cried out at the sharp unnatural pain as he penetrated her ass. He thrust slowly, as he entered her completely. He moved in and out leisurely inside of her, enabling her to get used to the sensation. Once he felt her muscles relax, he picked up the rhythm, pulling out completely and reentering her with each thrust. She sobbed under him, crying in her pillow, but he kept his fingers on her bundle of nerves, never letting her forget the pleasure she was getting regardless of anything else he did to her. Laura was caught in a foggy haze, where pleasure and pain coexisted, where blood and tears paved the way to her haven. She was no longer herself, she was a body reacting to sensations. Kayne… Kayne… Kayne… She repeated his name over and over again in her head. She couldn’t admit to herself the distress she had felt facing another man, facing the normality of the life he took from her. She would have given everything to be back with him then, to have him be the one standing in front of her trying to kiss her. Then he was, and she was terrified. A man was murdered, in front of her, because of her. And all she could feel in this moment was the sweet numbing relief of belonging to him, her Monster, her Kayne, surrendering completely in the face of this unavoidable, irrepressible force.
She came as he fucked her ass, claiming her, asserting his ownership over her body. He came not long after, in a growl. He got up and unshackled her without saying a word. As she lay on the mattress, she felt emptiness invade her. He had threatened her life, killed a man, and taken her body without consent. He whipped her, used her as his whore, and she let him; she even came from it. She had thought she had nothing left to lose after Peter died. There’s always more you can lose. She brought her knees up to her chest and stared vacantly into the open space.
He walked away and opened the door but stopped in his tracks at the last second. He looked back at the broken body he just left behind. He got irritated, feeling trapped. He didn’t want to go back to her; she ran away, deserved any punishment he saw fit. Worse than that, he found her in the arms of another man. He could’ve massacred an entire village. But he knew, looking at her face, if he walked out on her now, the Laura Spencer he knew would be no more.
He slammed his fist on the wall, yelling out “Fuck!” in frustration. Her naked frail body jerked at the sound. He exhaled slowly, lowered his head, and closed his eyes. His walk resolute, he went back to her and scooped her in his arms. She looked up at him, terrified, and he smiled kindly to reassure her, sadness in his eyes. He picked up a blanket from the bed with one hand, while still holding her with his other, and covered her body. Then he carried her to her room and gently laid her down on the bed under the covers. After removing his own clothes, he climbed in next to her. She stared at him, her eyes carrying the weight of the world. She kept her arms protectively closed over her chest, her hands in fists under her chin. He rubbed them gently, stroked her back, bringing her close into his embrace. He could feel her little heart pounding furiously against his chest, and for the first time, bore sorrow.
“Laura...” he said softly, as he caressed her face still covered in blood. “Do you want to tell me off? Yell at me? ... Curse me?… Hit me?”
She didn’t answer but kept her eyes locked on him.
“Want to spit on me?… Again?” He chuckled softly at the memory.
A lonely tear rolled down her face.
“Laura…” He shut his eyes and wiped her tear. “Laura…” He didn’t know what to do. He had only been taught how to break, never how to mend. In this moment, he would have given anything to have that power, to have her lean in and kiss him softly again, her eyes sparkling with innocent expectation.
“Anything. Ask me anything,” he commanded, his tone gruff, solemn.
“Make love to me.”
Her voice was so soft, he wasn’t even sure he heard her right.
Laura fought hard. Darkness, her old friend, had come knocking on her door again. But this time, she knew if she went with it, she wouldn’t return. She’d been used and abused, by the one person who could do this to her. She didn’t care about wrong and right anymore, could still feel the dried blood itching on her face. She felt her back burning with marks from the whip, her heart still reeling from the cruel, demeaning words. All she wanted, all she needed, was for him to undo what he did.
He closed his eyes and gently placed her on her back. Leaning his body on top of hers, he rested his forehead against hers, caressing the dried blood on her face. He softly kissed the wet path of her tears, down to her quivering lips. With utmost care, he pulled her arms apart and lifted them over her head.
She felt his hands possessively reaching for her wrists, beginning to pin them on the mattress then pull further, his fingers intertwining with hers. Every time, his caresses started out soft, every time, they grew possessive, only to finish as softly as they had started. She could feel him restraining his urge to dominate her, forcing his moves to be gentle. He kissed her down her neck and rubbed himself against her. Her body responded immediately. She couldn’t stop her tears from falling, her excitement from building. She felt torn apart and yet serene in the face of all the destruction, the fatality of it. No more anguish, no more questions. She had opened Pandora’s box and now faced the evil she had unleashed. She sobbed into his mouth as he passionately kissed her, swallowing everything: her tears and pain, her despair, her hopes, and her desires. He took it all, relieving her of everything she couldn’t carry anymore. He penetrated her slowly, every inch of his body touching her, his face inches from hers, and she gasped at the pleasurable intrusion. He broke the kiss to bring his mouth to her ear and continued to thrust inside of her sensually as he gruffly whispered, “Maybe I am a monster. But I’m your monster. I’ll fight for you. I’ll kill for you. You’re mine. Always. Wherever you go. I’ll find you. Always. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”
She squeezed his hands, her eyes hazy and intense at the same time, lost in his. His words felt like medicine on her wounds, his touch, the only anchor in her godforsaken world. The last barrier keeping the darkness at bay.
Her body shattered beneath his, and he kissed her again, swirling his tongue slowly in her mouth, and picked up the pace to reach his own release. He came in a grunt, collapsing on top of her. He planted soft kisses all over her face, then turned her around so she lay against his chest. Lying on his back, he stared at the ceiling deep in thought as he ran his fingers through her hair.
She curled up against him, into him; she would’ve slit his chest open and crawled into it if she could.
“What happened to your mother?” Her voice sounded so soft, so fragile.
He could feel her little fingers trail on his chest. He exhaled slowly. “She betrayed my father.” He guarded her in his embrace, speaking with a soft voice, his hurt for the first time coming through for what it was, and not the cold rage it had festered into over the years.
“With… another man…?”
“No.” He took a long pause before exposing his old scar. “Because of me. After I was born. She wanted to protect me from him.”
“Oh…”
“She went to the cops, Laura. She was ready to sell him out, take me from him, to take everything away from him.”
“But… she did it out of love… for you.”
“That’s not love. My father loved her. He did everything for her, everything. He never lied to her. She knew the life he was offering her. She married him, carried his child. Then she betrayed him, for no other reason than the fears in her head. My father took good care of me. He was there for me, always. She didn’t even give him a chance. She just turned on him.”
“Is that why she died?”
“Yes.”
It was tragic, and horrible. Kayne didn’t blame his father for the murder of his mother. She had given her life for him, and he held it against her. She felt her heart break for her, for Kayne, for herself, for all the suffering that happened between those walls. She understood the message in the cautionary tale of Mrs. Malkin’s life and death, grasped the deadly warning
given to her earlier in the car. “I wasn’t going to the cops. That’s not why I left…”
“I know.” He kissed her forehead.
Their voices soft, their wounds bare, they opened up to each other under a silvery moonlight.
“My father… he told me he loved me… all the time. He would pull me onto his lap and watch the same Disney movies with me over and over again. I think I made him watch Beauty and the Beast every Sunday for a whole year.” She chuckled softly, and Kayne responded with the similar smile he had given her earlier, filled with warmth and heartache. “Sometimes, I thought it just made it worse, you know? Sometimes I wished he could just… be a monster and not make me forget every time, make me trust him again. The pain would be so much worse… every time.” Her voice quavered.
He considered her, understood the depth from which this cry came, the hurt buried deep within. He’d never known another woman to such an extent, never knew any other person so deeply. He understood the plea that came from her confession. Her plea, to him.
They fell asleep with their bodies intertwined, Kayne spending the first night of his life in the arms of another.
Day-42
Kayne was already gone by the time Laura awoke. Olga sheepishly came in to greet her, her discomfort apparent. Laura wasn’t resentful. Of all people, she could understand the terror of facing a wrathful Kayne Malkin. She smiled kindly at her, trying to make her understand there were no hard feelings. The previous night felt like a blur. She kept replaying the events in her head. Kayne did not come home that night. Laura wondered if she was on his mind as well and spent the whole day in a dizzying haze.
***
Kayne was with Tanya. They were going over the details for the following night. Dimitri was throwing another party, and they suspected Maxwell wanted to use this occasion to touch base with possible detractors. Tanya was to remain by his side and give Kayne the names of all the men Maxwell interacted with. It was not enough; they needed to know what his exact plan was. Tomorrow would just be about getting names.
“So… will our little bird be joining us tomorrow?” Tanya tossed, her voice playful, her grin devilish.
Kayne smirked, shaking his head. He would not play this game with her. It was already late when he left her quarters at Dimitri’s mansion. On the ride home, he thought of Laura, remembering when he brought her to the party, and smiled to himself. He thought of the previous night, of her naked sweaty body against his, of her soft pleas, her ragged moans as her body shattered underneath his. Of the special way she had of reaching into him and bringing out something he didn’t even know was there.
Day-43
Laura was on her way back in after spending the day outside. Olga had advised her Master Kayne would not be home for supper, and she felt butterflies in her stomach when she unexpectedly ran into him on his way out. She hadn’t seen him since they spent the night together.
“Hi…” She smiled shyly at him, her face bright with the happy surprise.
“Hey…” He smiled, somewhat tenderly, his eyes penetrating hers. She lowered her gaze, though her smile remained. He pulled her to him, caressing her cheek with the back of his hand. She blushed, raised her eyes to meet his, bashful and decadently sensual at the same time, in a way that was entirely hers.
Her fingers lingered on his arms, as she suddenly noticed the formal black suit. It was the same he’d worn that night, when he took her to the party. Her heart began pounding faster and faster; her face dropped.
“What’s wrong?” he asked softly, concerned with her sudden mood change.
She shook her head silently. She didn’t have the courage, was unsure if she wanted to know as she already felt her chest clamping.
“Laura, what’s wrong,” he inquired again, irritation quickly replacing concern.
“Are you… . going to a party?” she whispered, her eyes fixed onto his chest, avoiding his gaze.
He sighed, understanding dawning on him. Though not harsh, his voice betrayed no emotion as he stared intently into her eyes. “Yes.”
She closed her eyes with the pain his answer caused her. She wanted to back away from him, but he grabbed her arms, gently pulling her back against the wall by the front door. She refused to look at him, keeping her head turned as she fought the tears welling up in her eyes. After everything they’d just been through, how could he do this to her?… How could she think he would’ve done otherwise? She didn’t know at this very moment who was really the one to blame.
“Look at me.”
She shook her head, keeping it turned to the side as one tear spilled over, running down her cheek.
He shook his own head, a discouraged smile on his face. “What am I going to do with you…”
Her face still turned away, she shrugged her shoulders, refusing to meet his gaze. He grabbed her chin and forced her to look him in the eye.
“Don’t be jealous. It always ends badly when you do…” he cautioned her, a devilish grin on his face. Leaning in, he kissed her sensually on her cheek, so close to her mouth the corner of his lips grazed hers, and then he walked out.
***
Laura waited until she couldn’t hear his footsteps anymore. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs, but no sound came. She wanted to break everything, wanted to set the house on fire, set the world on fire, and watch it burn with everything in it. She didn’t cry, didn’t make a sound, just wondered how much more of this she could take. Not much. Using the wall for support, she dragged herself back to her room. She laid her head on the pillow and stared at the bracelet he had given her, From Your Monster. But he wasn’t hers. He never would be. With that realization, her tears finally came.
Hours had passed as she lay on her side looking out the window, her eyes now dry, and her body still in the same position. The moon was particularly bright that night, reminding her of their night together. He had held her all night long, and Laura, who always froze awkwardly in such intimate moments, had felt at home in his arms. Tears welled up again at the thought.
It was late in the night when her door cracked open, letting in the light from the hallway. She sealed her eyes shut, feigning sleep as she heard him walk in, feeling him moving about. He removed everything down to his boxers before climbing in bed with her and then wrapped his arm around her, a smirk on his face.
She remained very still, holding her breath as he leaned closer to her. “I know you’re awake.”
“I know,” she responded, her voice soft.
He sighed and pulled her into him even closer, spooning her. She tried to ignore the warmth his embrace triggered, focusing instead on fighting back the tears building in her eyes.
“I didn’t fuck anyone,” he softly reassured her.
“Just blow jobs then…” she answered, bitter though subdued. She remembered walking in on him with Tanya… and the other woman, and cringed. The next moment, he was flipping her on her back as he pinned her wrists down. They stared into each other, her eyes glistening with tears, his conveying exasperation. He watched her silently, studying the pain in her eyes. What did she want from him? What did she expect? He didn’t fuck anyone, for her. Did she also expect him to turn down the whore making rounds as he sat with his associates? Excuse himself politely because of a lover at home? Show weakness, show any softness, and it would be the last thing you did. Did she not understand the world he lived in, still?
Her innocent expectations aggravated him to no end, and yet he liked that she was jealous, over him. No woman had ever been. His whores accepted his terms without question, never negotiating, never demanding. There she was, shattered by the mere thought of his being with someone else. For this reason alone, he knew they could never be together. For this reason alone, he knew he would never want anyone as much as he wanted her.
“You really can’t help it, can you…” He shook his head at her. With a condescending sneer, he added, “What did you think would happen, Laura? That I would quit everything? For you? Turn my life aroun
d? Marry you? Start a family?”
Her eyes widened, as if even she hadn’t expect such cruelty from him. She stared him straight in the eye, her eyes burning with an intensity he’d never seen. “Fuck you.”
He chuckled softly, lowering his face to breathe down her neck. “Get off me!” she screamed, wiggling wildly under him in an attempt to free herself. “Get off me!” she shouted again hysterically, fighting him off with all her strength.
His whole expression gleamed with animalistic excitement as he easily subdued her, and she panted under his body, her face flushed.
“What am I going to do with you…” He smirked at his helpless prey. Pinning both her arms with one hand, he reached between her thighs with the other, biting his lower lip at finding her wet. “Missed me?” he taunted her, licking his lips, his eyes predatory. “I hate you,” she breathed through clenched teeth.
He grinned wickedly and moved his fingers around her wetness. “But you don’t, Laura… isn’t that why you’re so upset?”
She closed her eyes, unwilling to admit, unable to deny.
He kept stroking her, watching her anger dissipate and transform, her head falling backward as she gasped with pleasure.
“How long are you going to keep fighting me? Don’t you know you’re going to lose?” he whispered wolfishly, then slowly penetrated her with his middle finger. “Every time.”
A soft cry escaped her lips. “Fuck you,” she panted.
He chuckled. “Not unless you beg…”
“Fuck you.”
His brow shot up. With a wicked gleam in his eyes, he released her wrists and wrapped his hand on her throat, applying some pressure. Her eyes snapped open in terror. He applied more pressure, his grin devilish, and she gasped for air, beginning to feel light-headed. She wrapped her newly freed hands around his arm in vain, she had no strength left. She panicked, feared she might pass out.
He kept fingering her, rubbing her with the palm of his hand. She gasped for air that never came, only more pleasure, mind-numbing waves of overwhelming pleasure. Her entire body was reduced to the sensitive spot he kept stroking, to the muscles clamping uncontrollably around his finger. She was dripping wet. Her eyes rolled back, as her entire body stiffened. He knew she was on the brink, and let go of his grip as her entire body convulsed in a loud orgasm, gasping desperately as the air rushed back into her.