Beauty and the Dark (10 page)

Sofia

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z7oPHkqzPqA

I
so very nearly ask Jack to come up. Well, it will be an outright lie to say anything else as there is no time during our date that my body does not clamor for his.

When he pulls me into his arms outside the lift and kisses me with desperate hunger, it is like being pulled into quicksand. It takes all of my willpower to break the kiss and press the button for my floor.

As the lift door closes on him, my skin, flesh, bones, blood, and sinew all scream for him.  But another part of me … a frozen part … the part that holds together the rickety structure of sanity … the one that never once got merry with alcohol, or drunk with sexual desire, says,
don’t spoil the best night of your life
.

Let the magic be ruined another day.

Let this night be special.

I ride the lift up to the apartment alone and put my key in the door. It is strange and empty without Lena, Guy and Irina, but I don’t mind. I’m floating on a delicious cloud. I dance into the room, switch on lights, and put on music, Beethoven’s Fifth. Humming and pretending to play an invisible violin to the lively music, I make my way into the bathroom. I finish my toilette, change into my long cotton nightgown, and fall dreamily into bed.

Am I falling in love?

Something that would have been impossible only a short while ago. I stare at the ceiling, confused. That word that I read about in books and only happened to other people. I’ve known only pain. And yet, it must be. What else could be so perfect, so wonderful, so amazing? I fall asleep on that lovely cloud.

The doorbell jerks me out of a deep and dreamless sleep. I freeze with fear, my eyes swiveling to the luminous face of my alarm clock. It is nearly twelve o’clock. I squeeze my eyes shut. Don’t panic. No one but Jack and my family know I’m here. Obviously it’s just a mistake by someone, or it could be someone drunk ringing the wrong bell. They will go away. There is nothing to fear. 

The doorbell goes again. This time more insistent.

I bite my thumbnail nervously. What if it is a woman who has lost her keys and just needs to be let in out of the cold? I hesitate another few seconds and the bell goes again.

This time I get out of bed and quickly walk to the hallway. If it’s a stranded woman I’ll let her in. If it’s a man I’ll pretend there’s no one at this address. Without switching on any lights, I go to the intercom and turn on the video. For a couple of seconds, I think I must be hallucinating. Then my entire body tenses, not with fear, but with unadulterated excitement. Jack’s come for me. I press the answer buzzer.

“What are you doing, Jack?” I ask, my voice strangely breathless.

“Let me in,” he demands, swaying slightly.

“Are you drunk?”

“What do you think?” he asks.

“I think, yes,” I say cautiously.

His hair flops over his forehead and he sweeps it out of the way carelessly and claps his hands. “Bravo. Let me in so I can give you your prize,” he slurs.

Even drunk he looks awesome. I want him to come up so bad my body aches, but how can I? There are so many reasons I shouldn’t. Not least my disfigured skin. My intolerably ugly scars. If he sees my back in the condition he is in, he won’t be able to hide his revulsion. Everything will fall apart.

“I think you should go home, Jack,” I whisper.

“I don’t want to go home, Sofia. Let me in. Please. Just this once.”

Something inside me lurches painfully. “I can’t,” I cry.

“We don’t have to do anything. I just want to talk.”

My breath comes out in a gasp. “Talk?”

“Yeah. You can make me a coffee and help me to sober up before I drive home.”

I take a deep breath. I wouldn’t leave a dog out in this weather let alone Jack. “Promise?”

“Scouts honor.”

I press the buzzer and watch him push open the door. I switch on the light and quickly run to the mirror. I had pulled my hair into a braid at the side of my head before I went to bed. It looks messy. Strands hang on either side of my face. I quickly swipe them back and tuck them behind my ears. I rub my eyes to make them look more awake and pull together the front of my nightgown. I don’t want to encourage something I’m not ready for.

I jump when I hear the knock on the door. Wow, he was fast.

Too fast to have waited for the elevator. He must have run up the stairs. I twist the handle and take a step back.

Oh my! Jack outside on the street is one thing. Jack looming in my hallway is completely another matter.

Before I can say a word he takes a step forward and pulls me into his arms. Taken completely by surprise I tumble into his broad chest. Almost instantly I feel myself losing my composure, unraveling. His body is hard and unyielding. Oh sweet Jesus, this is exactly what I did not want to happen.

“You said … talk … coffee,” I croak.

“Fuck talking and coffee, Sofia. I came here for a taste of your sweet body.”

The fumes of alcohol on his breath hit my nostrils, but it doesn’t put me off in the least. I want this man inside me. Where did this desire for a man come from? I’ve never wanted a man in my life, never even imagined I might want to, let alone this bad. He puts one big, warm man arm under my back and the other under my knees and lifts me up. So close to his neck I get a whiff of his cologne.

“Tonight I’m going to ravish you. Make you mine,” he growls possessively into my ear.

I feel his breath fan the top of my hair as he carries me down the hallway towards the only open door. My bedroom. He takes me inside and lays me on the bed. My heart is galloping in my chest.

I look up at him as he towers over me. In dim light from the corridor his face is full of shadows, hard. I can’t tell his expression, but his eyes glitter hotly. My mind snaps this image as the precious moments before our love affair ends.

I put off telling him the truth about me for so long because I didn’t want to see this searing lust die away, to be replaced by disgust. For the first time in my life I was enjoying the attention, the feeling of being wanted, desired. Tonight, in the next few minutes it will all come to an end.

He reaches for me.

“I need to tell you something first,” I say. My voice is oddly calm.

“You can tell me after I’ve had you,” he says curling his hand around my ankle.

“No,” I insist. “It’s important. I have to tell you this first. Then you decide if you still want to have me.”

He releases my ankle, his eyes narrowing. “Go on. Spit it out.”

I can already feel tears burning the backs of my eyes, but I harden my heart. I’ll tell him and he’ll run a mile, but it’ll be all right. I’ll survive this tragedy exactly the way I’ve survived everything else.

Baby steps.

It was fun while it lasted.

Lifting my body off the bed, I scoot away from him on my hands and butt. When my back touches the headboard I wrap my arms around my body and start speaking. “When I was young my father sold me to a trafficking gang.”

His jaw drops. Even in the darkness I can see his body go slack with shock. He blinks and stares at me in disbelief.

“The gang sold me to a brothel owner in Brussels. For many years,” my voice breaks, but I clear my throat and carry on, “I lived with him and serviced his clients. Mostly politicians. You know, members of the European Parliament. They were away from their wives and they needed company.”

Oh God, why am I babbling like a fool? I can’t believe I’m telling him about the men who came to abuse me. White-washing them. They needed company! I take a deep breath. Quick.
Cut to the chase, Sofia.

“Then a year ago Guy rescued me and brought me to live with him and Lena in Cheshire.” I exhale. “Christmas Eve last year was my first social outing.”

He drops to his knees. Like an elephant felled by a hunter in a long range gun. Defeated by something he could never fight. Something he never saw coming. Up this close I see his eyes and they are full of horror. Dumbfounded horror.

I force a smile. “So if you want to leave now, go ahead. I’ll totally understand.”

At the sound of my voice he holds his head and shakes it as if to clear it, or as if he can’t process the information I have given him. I gaze at him silently. 

“Oh, fuck,” he roars suddenly, and his voice is so full of fury I jump. He turns his body to the side and violently slams his fist on the floor. He keeps on slamming it and a frisson of fear runs up my spine. He is going to hurt himself. 

“Stop,” I scream.

As quick as lightning he scrambles up on the bed, grabs my leg, and pulls me towards him so my feet land on the ground and he ends up kneeling between my thighs. He grasps my upper arms. “And you were frightened to tell me this because you thought I would turn tail and run. What the fuck, Sofia?”

My heart starts racing, not with fear, but with exhilaration and hope. I damp it down. There is worse to come.

“I didn’t know what to think. It’s enough to make any man run,” I breathe.

“Not this one,” he snarls. 

I take a shuddering breath. No point dragging it out. “There’s one more thing I have to show you.”

He releases my arms. “Go on,” he grates.

I take my gown off and turn around.

“What the fuck is that?” I hear him ask incredulously.

I whirl my head and face him. He looks like he is going to pass out or puke. I press my bunched up nightgown against my naked breasts.

“He … branded me.”

“With his name?” he asks, as if unable to believe what he is hearing.

I nod slowly.

He buries his face in his hands. “Oh. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. No matter where I go, I can’t. I just can’t fucking run away from the cruelty of human beings.” His voice is hoarse, suffering. I almost don’t recognize it.

I reach out a hand towards his bent head. I don’t touch him. I just hover it inches away from his silky hair. His hands are clenched and his whole body is trembling with fury and incredible pain.

I watch as his silent tears drip on the floor.

My pain has become his, and he can’t take it. I feel a wave of love for the tortured man. He doesn’t deserve to suffer like this. I touch his head gently.

And he looks up slowly as if he is seeing me for the first time.

Sofia

“I
t’s okay,” I whisper, wiping away his tears. “I know you can’t stomach it. I understand. Like I said before. We’ll be friends. We’ll always be friends. You can go home and we’ll forget this ever happened. We’ll pretend this night never happened.”

It seems forever that he gazes into my eyes. Then he sighs, the sound loud in the silence of my bedroom. “I don’t need to go home, Sofia. I’m in the right place,” he says.

My mind goes blank with shock. “Are you sure?”

“You’re it for me. Wherever you are is exactly where I’m meant to be.”

I stare at him in astonishment. A thousand times I dreamed of this moment, but it was never this passionate, determined declaration. Never. Tears well up in my eyes.

“Don’t, my sweet child. Don’t,” he croons.

I blink hard. I don’t want to cry. I let go of all my fears. I don’t want him to think of me as a child. I want to be his woman. Strong, sexy, desirable.

He sits on the floor and pulls me down onto his lap. I hold onto his shoulders and straddle his thighs. He pulls my hair tie, unbraids my hair, and fluffs it out so it halos my face.

“Exactly how I thought you’d look. Beautiful. Just beautiful.” His face is flushed with desire. This is it. This is the moment I didn’t dare dream. Valdislav took too much from me, but he could never have my heart. That was always mine, but tonight I give it freely to this fine man.

“I don’t have a condom,” I murmur.

“I have, but I don’t want to use one with you.”

My eyes widen. “Why?”

“We’ll use it if you want to, but I want to fill you with my cum. I want to coat the outside and inside of your body with me. With my smells, my seed, my sweat, my blood if necessary. I want you to be my woman. I want to obliterate the memory of any other man. From today there will be no other for you but me.”

“What if I get pregnant?”

“Then we’ll find a name for our baby.”

My eyes get big. “You want to have a baby with me?”

He smiles. “I can’t think of better a mother than you.”

I stare at him in amazement. For as long as I can remember all I ever wanted was my own little family, but after what happened to me I pushed the thought away as something impossible, and yet this … this is too good to be true. I’m not one of those lucky people who have good things happening to them all the time.

“Are you sure?” I gasp.

“I’ve been a fool most of my life. I crammed twenty lifetimes into my life and nothing made me happy. I know what I want. I want you.”

I’m almost afraid I am dreaming, that I will wake up in the morning and find myself alone in bed. That it has all been just a dream. I drop my eyes in total confusion and my gaze falls on the hard bulge in his pants.

The sight transports me to the past.

For years I spent my days and nights in sexual mode. In fact, I didn’t know any other way to be. From the time I was sold Valdislav groomed me to be a sexual being. I had to perform, or I was punished. It was normal for me to give a blowjob, or have sex on demand at any time of the day or night.

For the last year I fought to forget all that. I never wanted another man in my body. I wore dowdy, loose-fitting clothes, and never made eye contact with men. I became the opposite of what I was. I became a sexless being, and I was happy being that. I felt clean. I felt good.

But one look at Jack’s erection, and a switch goes off in my head, and suddenly I’m back in sexual mode. I reach for his belt. I know what men like and I know exactly how to give it to them.

“Let me get you off. I’m real good at this.”

His hand instantly covers mine.

My eyes fly up to his. “What is it?”

His eyes are glowing with something fierce and animal-like. He shakes his head. “Everything that has happened to you until now was a mistake. You were not just made for getting cocks off. You were made for me, Sofia Seagull,” he whispers. He kisses my ears, my neck, making my head fall back with pleasure. “You were made for this, Princess Sofia,” he says, catching my bottom lip between his teeth.

Our eyes are so close there are only a couple of inches between us. His are heavy-lidded and so dark they are bottomless black pits.

He sucks at my bottom lip.

“And this.”

He brushes his fingertips on my nipples.

A shiver goes down my spine.

He bends his head and kisses the hardened tip of my breast.

I gasp.

“Tonight and every night I’m going to kiss and suck every fucking inch of you,” he says, and takes the nipple into his mouth.

My body responds instantly and between my legs I become a sopping wet mess.

He reaches behind him and pulls out something tucked into his jeans.

“You carry a knife around?” I gulp.

“Sorry, old habit,’ he mutters.

I stare at him curiously. The light from the corridor flashes on the blade as he unsheathes it. If it had been anyone else I would have been frightened. Frightened … I would have run a mile.

But this is Jack. Jack with the straight black hair and the sad smile. Jack whose body I have dreamed of and craved. Jack, who saw my burnt flesh and cried for me. Jack wanting me to expose myself to his blue, blue eyes. Excitement runs through me. I do. I want him to see me naked.

“Don’t move,” he commands and I freeze.

Our gazes lock. Juices gush out of me. Cold steel slides under my panties. I never thought I would ever give this much control to a man again. He cuts through it cleanly, then slices the other side too. The scrap of material falls away. He tosses the knife behind him and looks down between my splayed thighs. Automatically, instinctively, my hands move to cover myself. He lays his hand over mine and rubs the thumb of his other along my jaw.

“I just need to look at you, baby,” he says, his voice thick.

I swallow. “This is a huge moment for me, Jack. I want you, but I’m scared.”

“If you want to go slow, if you need a bit more time, I’ll wait, I can be patient. I’ll do whatever it takes, but understand this, I’m never going away.”

For long moments we simply stare at each other then I nod slowly.

Grasping my hands and holding them both at the wrists he lifts them high above my head. Now I am even more exposed and vulnerable. I look into his eyes. They are dark and watching. Fierce. Intense. Scary. Nothing like what they normally look like.

He pulls the wet scrap of material trapped between his thighs and me and flings it away. I sit as naked as the day I was born on his lap. Supporting my back with his other hand he lays me flat on the floor. The polished wood is cold on my back.

“Spread your legs and let me see your sweet cunt,” he orders.

My legs feel rubbery. Nervously, I part my legs and watch his eyes move down my body to my exposed sex. I see him drink in the sight of my nakedness. Then he smiles. Slowly. With great satisfaction. Sensuously he runs his hands up and down my body.

“You’re not a prostitute. You’re flawless and … you’re mine.”

I close my eyes. This has to be a dream. The most beautiful man in the world is telling me I am his. Me, the dirty prostitute.

He lays his large warm hand on my pussy and rests it there. Possessively. His eyes lock on mine as the heat from his hand seeps into my cold flesh. My pussy starts to really cream, wet his hand, drip. It’s all too much. I close my eyes.

“Sofia,” he whispers.

I open my eyes.

Bending his head, he
breathes
in the scent of my arousal. No one has ever done that to me. I moan softly.

“How long I’ve waited for this sweet scent. I even wanted our first kiss to be my mouth on this sugar cunt.”

Softly he kisses the heated skin of my mound. My hips rise off the floor in anticipation. He drags his lips down lower and I want to scream with the wild sensation of his velvet lips.

“My first taste,” he says, and spreading my labia with his fingers, licks the wet seam. His tongue is like a trail of fire.

“Oh, Jack,” I moan as my hips jerk and writhe helplessly.

He slips a thick finger into me.

My mouth opens in shock. It’s been two years since anyone has touched me. I read about other women who pleasure themselves with their fingers and vibrators, but I have never done it. The idea of sex is wrapped with disgust and degradation for me. Yet here I am starving for his finger, his tongue, his cock.

“How wet you are,” he purrs, letting his finger glide lazily in and out of me.

Then I watch him bury his face between my open legs.

“Mmm,’ he says. His next words are mumbled into my throbbing flesh and not only do I hear them but I feel their vibration. “I want you to cum in my mouth. I want your cum running down my throat and chin.”

I feel my sex pulsing as he eats me, no, that is too tame a word for what he does. He devours me, as if he can’t get enough of me, or hasn’t eaten for days. I think he will tire soon, but the more he feasts, the more ravenous he gets. My tense body bows completely off the floor, every nerve ending buzzing, ready for something big. 

Suddenly, for the first time in my life, I climax. It is a powerful flash of heat that comes from nowhere and hits me so hard and deep it shatters me. As it ebbs away and my body stops clenching and jerking I stare at him in awe. My arms feel weak and my thighs are trembling.

“That’s my first orgasm,” I pant.

His eyes widen with surprise. Then he surprises me.

“And here’s your second one, baby,” he says, dipping his tongue back into my throbbing sex.