Dark Pleasures

by M. S. Parker

  “You know,” Rylan said. “I'd always enjoyed New Year's Eve parties, but I remember always thinking that one day, it might be nice to ring in the new year quietly.” He looked down at me. “With someone special.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulders.

  “So you don’t miss being with your friends tonight?” I asked the question casually, purposefully not giving a specific name.

  “I don't want to be anywhere else but here,” he said, kissing my temple.

  The sound of the fire crackling filled the room, but we didn't need to talk. We were warm and comfortable. The world outside was so far away that it didn't matter. My stomach was full of good food and I was safe.

  As the night wore on, Rylan's fingers began to make small circles on my shoulder and he pulled me closer. I brought my legs up, stifling a grimace as I tucked my feet under me. I didn't want him knowing I was too sore. He'd probably insist that I go to bed and I wasn't about to ruin the night. His hand dropped from my shoulder to my waist and his fingers slipped under the hem of my shirt. I shifted to give him enough room to move and he quickly obliged.

  His hand slid across my stomach, leaving fire burning across my skin. When his hand cupped my breast, I moaned. I closed my eyes and let myself enjoy the sensations as his fingers explored my bra.

  “Something new?” he asked softly.

  I nodded and sat up. “Want to see?”

  Even in the dim light, I could see his eyes darken to that near-purple color I loved so much. I pulled off my sweater and then stood. I heard his sharp intake of breath as I leaned down to take off my jeans. The muscles in my leg protested the stretch, but I ignored it.

  “Damn, Jenna,” he murmured as he looked over me.

  I'd chosen this set because I'd loved the way the deep red looked against my skin. They were sheer lace, hiding nothing. The bra was barely enough to cover my nipples and the panties hardly more than inch-wide in the front and less than that in the back.

  For a moment, I wondered if things would've looked even better with my natural hair color. Then Rylan grabbed my hand and pulled me down on his lap. He flipped us even as I fell, rolling me under him so that we were stretched out on the couch, his body lying along mine.

  His hands ran over me as his lips slanted over mine. His tongue traced my bottom lip far more gently than I'd expected from the heat I'd seen in his eyes. I opened my mouth and darted my tongue out to meet his. I moaned as he deepened the kiss, exploring my mouth slowly, as if he had forgotten it. He buried his hands in my hair, holding my head in place as I gripped his waist, pulling him closer. I slid my hands under the back of his shirt, fingers teasing across the top of his ass even as my thumbs made circles at the base of his spine.

  His mouth moved away from my lips and down my neck. I tilted my head back as he kissed his way down my throat, then made a pained sound as the muscles in my neck and across my shoulders tightened.

  “Jenna?” Rylan pushed himself up off of me so fast I could barely process it. “Did I hurt you?” He knelt next to the couch. “Love, I'm so sorry.”

  I shook my head, wincing as the movement pulled things. “No, that's not it.” I sat up. “I'm sore from yesterday. I'm in good shape, but skiing took a whole different set of muscles and I didn't stretch...”

  His expression relaxed. “Wait right here.”

  He stood and walked quickly down the hall. I watched him go as I slowly rolled my neck and stretched my arms out. I'd stayed in the same position for far too long. If I would've moved around, I wouldn’t have been so stiff.

  “On your stomach,” Rylan said as he walked back into the room. He held something in his hand.

  “What's that?” I asked.

  “On your stomach,” he repeated, his voice taking on a bit of that authoritative note it got.

  I did as he said, grimacing as the muscles in my legs protested. Yeah, I really should've paid more attention to getting up and moving around today. Whatever Rylan had planned, I would go along with it, but I would be even more sore tomorrow.

  “Does the scent of jasmine bother you?”

  I looked over my shoulder at him, puzzled. “No, why?”

  He opened the bottle and the scent of jasmine immediately filled the air. “Relax, love. I'm going to take care of you.”

  Before I could ask what that meant, his fingers were at the clasp of my bra. He unhooked it and helped me ease my arms out of it.

  “Don't want to ruin something so beautiful,” he said softly as he set the bra aside. My panties came off next. “Just relax,” he repeated his previous command.

  I had my head turned towards him, but couldn't see exactly what he was doing, only a general idea. He looked like he was putting something on his hands and rubbing them together. When he put his hands on my back that I knew exactly what he was going to do.

  I moaned as his strong fingers massaged my sore muscles. He started at my spine with firm pressure, working through each knot and sore spot. The oil he'd put on his hands made for warm friction that further softened things. I closed my eyes as his hands slowly made their way up to my shoulders and then down my arms. I'd never had anyone give me a massage before and what Rylan was doing now was amazing.

  He moved down to my feet and I made a sound. The bottoms of my feet were usually really ticklish, but I was too limp to do much of anything. Then his thumbs were putting pressure in all the right spots on my feet and it was doing delicious things to other parts of my body.

  “Ahh.” I let out a moan that wasn't only about how the stiffness was being forced from my body.

  “I'm going to take that as a positive.” Rylan sounded amused.

  I would've given him some sort of snarky reply if I'd been able to form a coherent thought. At the moment, 'ahh' was about all I could muster.

  His fingers moved up from my feet to my ankles, then my calves. I bit my lip as a flare of pain went through my legs, but I couldn't completely stop the pained sound.

  “Shh, love,” he murmured. “I know it hurts right now, but it'll get better. I promise.”

  It was funny, I thought as I tried to focus on how good it had felt. I'd had people tell me similar things when I was younger. They'd lied. Rylan wouldn't.

  The pain didn't last long as he kneaded the knots from my muscles and turned my leg into something that felt like jelly. When he started on the other leg, I was ready. By the time he finished with my legs, I was breathing heavy and his hands were on my ass, continuing the massage. Slowly, it turned from making me feel better to...making me feel better.

  His fingers and thumbs dug into the firm muscles of my ass, then up my back, his fingers going along my sides this time so that he could caress the sides of my breasts. I moaned again as he worked down, his thumbs teasing between my legs until I was wet and throbbing.

  “Feeling better now?” he asked as he pressed his lips against my spine.

  “Mmm.” I shook my head. “Nope.”

  “No?”

  “Won't feel better until you're inside me.”

  He uttered a low oath and then his hands were gone. I summoned all of my energy and rolled onto my side, catching the last bit of what had probably been the world's fastest striptease. Rylan's cock was already hard as he kicked off his underwear. I licked my lips and he growled.

  I thought he'd have me lay down but, to my surprise, he sat down on the couch where I'd just been laying. When he reached over to the end table, I knew what he was going for and it was time for me to share the little surprise I'd been waiting for. I'd been a little too out of it the first night, but now I was thinking clearly. Well, clearly enough.

  “No.” I rose up on my knees, marveling at how much better my legs felt.

  Rylan gave me a puzzled look. “If you're not feeling...I just thought...”

  “I got my test results before we left.” I threw my leg across his lap and straddled him. His eyes went wide as I reached beneath me and positioned him at my entrance. “I'm clean. We don't have to use anything.”
I paused, suddenly uncertain. “Unless you want to.”

  He put his hands on my waist and held me in place as he lifted his hips just far enough for his head to slide inside. “I've been dreaming about having you like this from the moment I first met you.”

  I looked down at him. It wasn't often that I got to see him in this position. I put my hands on either side of his face and leaned down to brush my lips across his. “Then have me.”

  I cried out as he lowered me onto his cock. I let him take my weight, take control even though I was on top. My head fell back as he filled me, his cock stretching me, reaching every inch. His mouth latched onto my breast, lips and tongue suckling at my nipple until I came for the first time. He scooted forward even as my body shook around him. His mouth moved up to my collarbone as he used one arm to keep me steady and the other to wrap my legs around his waist.

  “Let me do the work,” he said before taking my mouth again.

  I draped my arms around his neck as he began to move us. The thrusts were shallow and the base of his cock rubbed against my clit with each one. Each new one sent another ripple of pleasure through me until I was whimpering, every cell on fire. Not a bright and burning flame, but a slow smolder that threatened to consume me.

  “I've got you, love.” Rylan whispered as he clutched me to him. “Come with me. I'm so close. Come with me.”

  “I've got you too,” I spoke against his ear. “Come inside me, love.”

  He let out a primal sound as his body jerked against mine. The first time I'd told him that I'd loved him, he'd been half-way inside me and had almost come. Now, my words pushed him over the edge. Even as he emptied himself into me, I ground down on him, giving myself what I needed to come again.

  I came silently, my face pressed against Rylan's neck, the salt from his sweat on my lips. We held each other as we rode out our pleasure, our bodies as intimately joined as two could be. But it wasn't just our bodies. It was so much more than that. I knew that what we'd done meant as much to him as it did to me. Neither of us had ever trusted anyone enough to not use protection. It wasn't merely about the physical sensations that accompanied the change. It was what it represented.

  “Thank you.” He pressed his lips against the side of my head. “That was amazing.”

  I was too weak to do anything but nod. I wasn't entirely sure I would be able to move any time soon. My limbs all felt like jello.

  I heard a beeping sound as my phone sounded the alarm. “Happy New Year.”

  “Happy New Year, love.”

  Everything became fuzzy after that. At some point, Rylan stood and shifted me into his arms. I had a vague recollection of us taking a shower, though I suspected he spent more time washing me than I did washing myself. He dressed me for bed, not using the pajamas I'd brought with me, but one of his own shirts. When he put me under the covers and then climbed in behind me, I wanted to tell him that this was the perfect way to end one year and begin another.

  Instead, I found myself slipping under. I'd have to tell him tomorrow. At least we'd have all day tomorrow, maybe more if the snow didn't let up. That wouldn't be so bad. My last thoughts were of being stranded in this beautiful cabin for a long, long time...

  Chapter 16

  My heart was pounding, blood rushing in my ears.

  I'd known it was pointless to run. There was never anywhere to hide, not for real anyway. But that's what the customer wanted and the customer always got what he wanted. And this particular customer liked the chase.

  It always started the same way. He would come to see my mother and tell her to find a house. Whenever my mother told me we were going for a ride over the weekend or during a school vacation, I knew what was coming. The only other time I'd left the house was to go to the doctor.

  I'd tried everything to stop it. I'd refused to get in the car once. Mom had slapped me so hard that I'd almost blacked out.

  I'd tried to escape from the car three times. All that had gotten me was the shit beaten out of me after he'd finished with me.

  Part of what made him so bad was that he relished the terror and the fear that came with the chase. He didn't only want me struggling and afraid when he fucked me. He wanted the build up. One of the reasons my mom liked him so much was that he paid for an entire day because he wanted to draw things out.

  He was the huntsman, chasing Snow White through the forest. And he would hunt me down, tell me that he was supposed to take my heart back to the queen and if I wanted to live, I would have to do whatever he said. Or he would go with his other fantasy where he didn't give me a choice. Either way, things ended the same.

  Once, I'd stood in the center of the run-down crackhouse my mom had chosen for the site of the man's fantasy. When he'd seen that I refused to run, he'd hit me and I still only had partial memories of what he'd done after that, but they were enough that I never did it again.

  So, I played the game.

  My mom pointed to the door of a shitty little house and pulled out a cigarette. I didn't need any other instructions. I walked up the dirt path to the front door of the condemned building and went inside. I would have five minutes before he'd come after me. If I was lucky, he wouldn't have his dog with him. It always took him longer to find me without the dog, which meant less time spent fucking me. If he found me too quickly and was up for it, he'd have me run again.

  The walls and floor were filthy, caked with dirt and bugs. I didn't care about any of those things though. I had to find somewhere to hide. Maybe, just maybe, if I was good enough, I could hide until he gave up. I knew it would never happen, but that hope was still there.

  The main room was empty so I ran through the closest doorway into a kitchen. There was a table, but he'd see me too easily. I opened a door and found a broom closet filled with cleaning supplies, but nothing big enough to hide me.

  I ran up the stairs, each one creaking ominously under my feet. My heart was racing as I heard the front door open. He never shouted for me or yelled for me to come out. The only time he ever spoke to me was when he caught me and he gave me the couple sentences that told me how things would go. He barely made any sounds even when he fucked me. No moans or talking to me. In a way, he frightened me more than most of the others. One day, I was terrified that he'd go too far into the fantasy and cut out my heart.

  The rooms upstairs had beds and dressers, closets that were empty. There was no shower curtain in the bathroom. I was running out of options and out of time.

  Sweat poured down my face, stinging my eyes. I could hear my ragged breathing echoing in the empty hallway.

  What was I going to do? Where could I hide? If he found me standing here, he'd hurt me worse than usual.

  Under a bed. That seemed to be my only option. But it was too easy. He'd look under the beds.

  My brain was spinning in circles and I felt the panic getting ready to choke me. I pushed it down and begged myself to think of something.

  I heard the creak of one of the steps and nearly screamed. I swallowed the sound and ran into the last bedroom. He'd start at the first room and maybe, just maybe, I'd be able to sneak back down the stairs while he was in there. Not that I thought I'd find a better place to hide downstairs.

  Then again...a thought came into my head. It was crazy and would probably kill me. I traced the scar on my arm from where I'd tried to kill myself two years ago. Since then, I'd endured things that were almost as bad as what had happened that night, but I'd never tried suicide again. I'd given up on finding any kind of release, even in death. This idea, however, might just work. Either I'd be hidden or I'd be dead.

  I pressed myself against the wall, my entire body trembling. I bit my bottom lip to hold in any sound I might accidentally make. I had to be absolutely silent so he didn't waver from his routine of going into that first room. His footsteps were barely audible, but I could hear enough to know when he'd moved into the room.

  This was it. I had to move now and move fast if my plan would work, but my legs wouldn
't move. They were frozen in place, telling me that I had to stay, that what I was thinking was crazy. Two sides of self-preservation were warring with each other, arguing as to what the worse fate would truly be.

  It only lasted a few seconds, but it felt like forever, like I would still be standing here, unable to move, when he found me. The thought of what was coming was enough to break through the fear and I ran. I moved as quickly and quietly as I could, knowing that if he heard me too soon, he could dart out of the room and grab me as I ran by. Since we'd only been playing his game for a short time, he'd hurt me, then make me play again.

  I ran back down the stairs and heard him coming by the time I reached the bottom step. I didn't look behind me though. I knew he'd be coming, walking in that slow, horror-movie-villain way he did. I didn't watch scary movies much, but there were a couple clients who'd enjoyed watching me get scared by them, so I'd seen enough to know that's what my life was.

  I rounded the corner slower than I'd been going, my arms and legs feeling as if I was moving through water. It was then that I realized I was dreaming. This wasn't real. But it had been. This wasn't a mix of memories. This was exactly what had happened.

  My fingers closed around the door handle and I pulled. I told myself not to do it. That it wouldn't work. I couldn't stop myself though because I hadn't stopped then. I'd thought that it couldn't be worse than what he would do to me.

  I'd been wrong.

  It was cold and dark.

  I began to gasp as the air thinned.

  My chest hurt.

  I couldn't breathe.

  It was so dark.

  I tried to scream, but I couldn't get the air I needed to do it.

  I was going to die here. Alone. In the dark. Fighting to breathe.