by Marian Tee
He waited until their eyes met, and when they did, he thought he had his answer. In her wonderful blue eyes, he saw forgiveness and genuine empathy---
Sweet as ever, Marcus thought numbly, and he had to silently ask his grandmother for forgiveness.
Mi dispiace, nonna, ma sono un uomo.
I am sorry, grandmother, but I am a man.
Because right this moment, all he could think of was how much he wanted to fuck her.
“Ciao, bambina,” he had managed to say.
There was one moment of still silence, and then a fragile smile broke over her lips as she stammered, “C-Ciao, Marcus.”
Ah. It had been so long since he had last heard her say his name, and he wasn’t able to help himself after that. Before he could think about what he was doing – of the goddamn consequences it would entail – he was already doing it, drawing his summer temptress close, his lips touching each side of her face---
And it was like tasting heaven again.
When she jerked away, Marcus noticed her pale expression and knew he had frightened her. He immediately retreated, giving her just enough space as he said politely, “Thank you for coming, bambina.”
Her response was proper and everything to be expected, but it was the manner of which that had stunned him. Her Italian was exquisitely fluent, and Marcus asked abruptly, “Da quando?”
Since when she had started learning Italian, and more importantly, why?
He needed to know because in the back of his mind, he couldn’t help thinking that the reason behind it was a “who” rather than a “what.”
And her stammered answer practically confirmed it.
She had met another man. Another goddamn Italian, and that was why she couldn’t answer him straight.
So that was it, Marcus had thought tautly.
He knew the best thing to do was to let her go. He knew that. But somehow he couldn’t, and he found himself taking advantage of Anneke’s unfailing good manners by forcing her to join him for a walk.
In the back of his mind, Marcus knew he was being unreasonably jealous and possessive. He knew that, too, but he didn’t give a damn.
His plan was to grill her about this other man in his life – this faceless Italian whom he already despised – but instead Marcus found himself both enchanted and embittered. This Anneke by his side was so different from the innocent temptress he had known this summer. She was more assertive now, and so much more open with her passion---
“Do I have you?” Marcus heard himself ask when they were alone in the cottage, and as soon as the words slipped past his lips, he knew it was both a test – and a point of no return.
Everything could change after this.
And all she had to say was…yes.
But instead she had said something else---
Something that threw his world upside down---
“I’m yours…any way you want.”
The words caught Marcus completely off guard, and for one moment he found himself drowning in pain and bitterness.
No woman could say such a thing like that and still be a virgin.
No woman could look at him in the eye with such unconcealed desire and still be untouched.
And no woman – no woman but Anneke – could gut him the way he was feeling now, knowing that another man had stolen Anneke’s first.
It wasn’t that he thought less of Anneke because she was no longer a virgin. He wanted her more than ever, and that would never change. Nor did he begrudge Anneke for finding another lover – that had always been her choice.
What did threaten to destroy Marcus was the thought of what could have been.
Of knowing that it could have been him---
If not for the indelible stain in his soul.
But then Anneke touched his chest, his name on her lips---
“Marcus.”
And sanity returned, together with the realization of what could be---
For one moment, he found himself thinking along lines he had never dared to cross in the past. For one moment, he allowed himself to think of a future with Anneke---
All these years, the only thing that had kept Marcus from ever seeking her out again was his determination to never taint her with his dirty hands.
She was beautiful inside and out, and a better man deserved to take her innocence.
Apparently that man had come and gone, and while Marcus would never care to know who that man was lest he was tempted to commit murder, it also meant that his hands were no longer tied.
Anneke was no longer innocent.
Anneke was no longer someone he’d have to worry about hurting…or dirtying.
Just for one moment, he allowed himself to think of the impossible---
And it turned out to be enough.
Throwing caution to the wind, Marcus didn’t waste another second setting things to motion. He arranged to meet with Anneke again and didn’t let her draw another breath before placing a ring on her finger.
And when it was time to consummate their marriage and he was laying his bride on his bed, he told himself that it was okay. That because she was different now and less fragile, nothing else would go wrong.
Anneke knew the ways of the world, and as long as he was always careful and remained in control, there was no reason why they wouldn’t be able to have a happy future together.
She was different now, Marcus kept telling himself as he kissed her.
And for a very short time, he had really believed that.
Until that moment Anneke told him she was a virgin.
Until that moment he realized that he still had the power to dirty her, to destroy her---
Don’t you know you’re exactly like me?
Marcus found the strength to tear himself away from his bride.
Even knowing that walking out on Anneke on their wedding night could break her---
Anything was better than risk turning Anneke into another Raquel Ravelli.
Heading directly to the spare bedroom in his basement, Marcus lost track of time as he waited for the girl he had ordered from the club. And when she did arrive, she came to him already naked and aroused, and the sight of her arrested him…but not for the reasons she thought.
For one impossible moment, Marcus could have sworn that looking at her was like seeing three faces.
The girl.
His mother.
And Anneke.
It was like a fucking symbolic illusion of his unbearable present, his inescapable past, and the future he would never deserve---
Shoving the illusion away, he gestured for her to come forward, saying curtly, “Get yourself chained.”
“Yes, Master.” Her tone was submissive, but her eyes had a knowing look to them. They both knew a part of him was still struggling to wash his hands of what was happening, just as they both knew it was futile.
His sin wouldn’t go away simply because he wasn’t the one to bind her in chains.
Retrieving one of the custom-designed whips he had ordered less than a decade ago, Marcus’s fingers reflexively loosened and tightened around its handle. The feel of it in his grip was both sickening and familiar, and Marcus could almost feel evil seeping inside of him---
Don’t you see you’re exactly like me?
The cage of his past started to shrink around him as Federico’s words echoed inside his mind, and despair threatened to eat him alive as he found himself unable to escape.
Don’t you see you’re exactly like me?
Don’t you see you’re exactly like me?
Don’t you see you’re exactly like me?
He was trapped. He would always be dirty. He would never be free.
As the vile truth struck him, so did he, the whip lashing out without warning. The end of it connected with the girl’s bare ass, taking her by surprise. She jerked and gasped, “Wait!”
Fuck waiting.
He kept lashing her, again and again, as he walked towards the girl.
Her
gasps turned into moans, pain melting into ecstasy, and it was like hearing his own mother moan---
He lashed at her again, this time more forcefully, and she screamed.
“Oh God!”
That, too, was exactly like his mother, and red began to fill his vision.
“Make me bleed, Master!”
And he did.
“I’m coming,” the girl gasped.
The whip fell from his fingers, and then he was roughly unzipping himself, pulling his dick out---
The naked girl in front of him began to writhe. “I’m coming, Master, I’m coming, you hurt me so good, Master!”
And he was eight years old again, and he was stroking himself furiously.
Just like his father.
The girl cried out as her orgasm reached its peak, and he released a guttural growl at the same time.
They had climaxed in perfect harmony, Marcus thought dully, like two fucking peas from the same dirty pod.
Afterwards, he watched her unchain and clean herself at his command, knowing that it was the beginning of the end.
He had done something irredeemable, something that even a paragon like Anneke wouldn’t be able to forgive him for, and that was how it was supposed to be.
He knew how her mind worked, knew that despite everything, she would try her damnedest to see something good in him, and he couldn’t let her do that.
As long as he could keep her from becoming dirty like him, Marcus thought dully, then that was enough.
Before leaving, the girl tried enticing him into having sex with her again but when Marcus coldly rejected her advances, she shook her head with a taunting laugh, saying, “You can try pretending this won’t happen again, Master, but we are who we are.” She ran one shameless hand over her naked body, saying languidly, “Just accept it, Master.”
“Get out.”
But this only made her laugh anew. “Call me once you have need of me, Master. I’ll do this for free, just for you.”
He watched her leave, the girl’s words almost as disturbing as the echoes of his past.
Was this truly all he could ever be?
The answer to his question greeted him when he followed her out of the room and the basement’s hallway wasn’t as empty as he expected.
The first thing he saw was Anneke, her face pale, dull blue eyes fixed on the naked girl before her.
Ah God.
Anneke.
He hadn’t wanted her to find out like this.
“Get out,” he snapped once more at the Sub, all the while keeping his gaze off Anneke, fearing she would shatter any moment.
The girl bowed, saying mockingly, “Yes, Master.”
He reached Anneke just as the Sub turned, and this time he was close enough to see the girl’s eyes smirk at Anneke---
God forgive him, but he almost killed the girl for that.
Didn’t she fucking care she was kicking someone who was already down? Anyone with half a brain only had to look at Anneke’s face to know Anneke had already lost.
She had fucking lost the moment she had allowed herself to trust a man like him.
When they were alone, Marcus waited for Anneke to scream, to slap his face. He waited for her to do all the goddamn things she deserved to do to someone like him.
But she didn’t.
“Marcus.”
Dio.
Why, Jesus, why would she say his name like it was still something good?
Sweet, innocent Anneke---
Why are you so damn easy to destroy?
Didn’t she know…didn’t she fucking understand that he could never be with her when she was this sweet?
In her eyes, he saw that she only had one question she wanted to ask.
Why? Why? Why?
And Marcus almost wanted to laugh.
His Anneke was so goddamn sweet that even now she was waiting for him to give her an explanation---
An excuse---
Anything that would allow her to close her eyes to the pain and continue clinging to a dream---
As the seconds trickled past, he could see her pain spreading inside of her like a cancerous infection, and he could feel his face hardening in response, knowing that it was him---
He was the fucking infection that could and would eventually taint her for good.
I’m sorry, Anneke, he thought dully, but you’re too damn easy to destroy.
Her eyes started to tear up, and her gaze told him that she was beginning to look at him like he was a stranger---
Ah, Anneke.
He wanted to jerk her into his arms, wanted his fingers to bite into her skin, as he whispered the fucking truth into her ears.
No, Anneke.
This is the real me.
And it was almost as if she heard him when Anneke suddenly choked out, “I don’t understand.”
His lips twisted. “You were never meant to.” And God help her, but he hoped she never did.
Walking past her, he saw Anneke fall to her knees, but he didn’t let it stop him.
She might think he had destroyed her, but she was wrong. She didn’t know how it was to be destroyed the way he did, and that was how it should be.
I’m sorry, Anneke.
Her pain was his strength.
I’m so goddamn sorry.
Marcus could feel her staring at him, still goddamn waiting, and it threatened his control.
For one moment, he wanted to say to hell with everything---
To hell with what was right---
For one goddamn moment, he wanted to risk it all---
He heard her say again, “I don’t understand.”
Ah, God.
His eyes closed.
That’s how it should be, sweet Anneke. Because if you did understand, then you might choose to stay with me…and I can never have that.
And so Marcus kept walking away.
Part II
How much time had passed?
Her mind, made hazy by pain, was unable to yield an answer, and Anneke’s limbs refused to stop shaking as she forced herself to move. Relief filled her as she stumbled out of the basement and saw no sign of Marcus. She knew she was being pathetic, but she was desperately grateful that Marcus knew enough to spare her from the sight of him. She didn’t think she could live another second if she saw him again.
Making it only as far as the first guestroom she reached, Anneke locked herself inside of it and fumbled for the cordless phone. Her fingers shook as she dialed her brother’s number, and oh, when she heard Jaak’s voice---
“De Konigh here.”
Anneke’s entire body shuddered.
Oh God, she needed, how much she needed to be with her family now.
Her lips started to move, but no words came out.
The pain was just too much.
“Hallo?” Jaak’s had become impatient.
Panic strangled her at the thought of her brother hanging up and she managed to gasp out, “Please.”
On the other side of the world, Jaak whitened at the unmistakable sound of his sister’s voice.
Her fingers tightened around the phone. “Please come get me.”
Jaak didn’t even think of asking why. “Where?” He only knew that his sister needed him, and he would goddamn be there for her, no matter where she was.
The phone slipped out of her hold when the call ended, and Anneke slowly slid down to the carpeted floor. Curling herself into a ball, she closed her eyes, thinking she could never sleep again---
But she did.
When she woke up, it was to hear someone knocking on the door, and she stirred. Darkness hummed outside the window, and her sense of disorientation grew. How long had she been asleep?
Another knock drew her attention to the door.
“Miss Anneke, I have your meal prepared.”
She forced herself up on wobbly legs and opened the door a fraction.
The maid smiled at her hesitantly.
Anneke’s gaze darted be
hind the other girl, but she could see no one else, and her heart shriveled.
You’re thinking too much of yourself, Anneke thought painfully. Did you expect he’d come back groveling? And even if he did, was she so weak that she would forgive him just like that?
Taking the tray, she thanked the maid, locked the door again, and forced herself to eat. After, she closed her eyes, hoping she could once again seek refuge in sleep, but this time fate wasn’t as kind.
Instead, Anneke found herself crying, remembering, and then crying again.
Why, why, why, why?
None of it made sense, but the pain inside of her also told Anneke that the whys no longer mattered. All that should matter was that he had done it, and there was no going back.
When she woke up for the second time, it was to hear Jaak’s voice outside the room.
She opened the door, and her brother said quietly, “Let’s go, Annie.”
Jaak’s eyes closed as his sister threw herself into his arms. He couldn’t remember the last time Anneke had done this, couldn’t remember ever seeing her in this much pain---
God.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
Anneke was an angel.
Anneke did no wrong.
So why the fuck did life let her hurt like this?
He felt her fingers clutch his shirt tightly. I hurt.
His eyes stung, and he said hoarsely, “I’m sorry, baby girl.” His arms tightened around her. “But we’re here for you now.”
Marcus was waiting at the end of the stairs when Jaak came down, his arm around his sister’s. His friend’s face was hard, but Marcus didn’t give a damn. He only had eyes for Anneke, and she looked too damn pale.
Dio.
What he would do to be the one to comfort her, to be with her, to love her.
As they started to walk past him, Marcus heard himself say, “I suppose you hate me now.” He said the words because he needed to hear her say it was so, said the words because he was laughably, pitifully, goddamn weak---
So fucking weak that if Anneke didn’t say that she hated him, he would forget all about being selfless. If Anneke didn’t say that she hated him, he would fall on his knees and to hell with doing the right thing.