A Bedtime Story (17 page)

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.

K
ayne 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.

L
aura 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 around? 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.

He lay back down by her side, leaning lazily on his elbow, and
watched her as she came down from her high. She turned to him, still dazed.

“What the
fuck
?” she gasped, terror building in her
eyes.

He kept staring at her, the corner of his lips quirking up.
“Thought you might like that.”

“You could have killed me…” She reached for her throat, her voice
now soft, though terror was still very present in her eyes.

He half rolled his eyes, amused with her indignation, and languidly
pulled her back to him. She didn’t resist as he spooned her again, brushing her hair
and kissing her on her temple.

“Kayne…?”

Her voice reached him, so fragile, so small, he just wanted to pull
her even closer. Hold her so tight he could make her
understand
. Understand
what exactly, he wasn’t even sure himself.

“Yes, Laura…” His voice came out amused, even mockingly
patient.

“Was she there?” Her voice quavered.

“Who?”

She didn’t answer.

“Tanya?” he guessed and felt her body tense at the
mention of the name.

“Yes.”

He smirked behind her, reveling in her jealousy. But in this
moment, while she lay so sweetly against his chest, naked and vulnerable, her
breathing soft, he didn’t want to toy with her emotions, didn’t want to hurt her
more than he already had.

“I’m not fucking her, Laura,” he answered her, his voice soft,
then, before she had a chance to twist his words in her head, responded to her
fears. “There is
nothing
going on between me and her.”

“Okay…” she voiced hesitantly, other worries still obviously on her
mind.

He turned her around to face him and looked into her eyes
inquisitively, trying to read into the pools of sadness that wearily returned his
gaze.

“What is it?” he asked her, caressing the side of her face with the
tip of his index finger.

She shook her head.

“Tell me.”

She sighed, defeated. “I hate… that you bring her here...” Her
little voice broke at the confession. She lowered her gaze, not wanting to know how
he would respond, what cruelty he had in store for her. She didn’t think she could
survive it. She waited in limbo for his response, like her life, her entire world
depended on it.

He remained silent for a while, gazing at her. He couldn’t
understand why she fixated on her. She’d seen him fuck a woman in the dungeon, seen
another give him head in the reception hall barely two days ago, and yet it was
Tanya she despised. Another part of him though, understood, very well.

He gently lifted her chin and shook his head, a tolerant smile on
his face. He leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips. “Okay. I won’t bring her
here anymore.”

He felt her entire body ease with relief. She
didn’t let him break the kiss; instead, she pulled back into it, holding on to him
with urgency. He was slightly taken aback by her ardor for a second. He opened his
mouth and felt her tongue swirl around his with desperate passion. He kissed her
back, sitting up on the mattress, and helped her up on top of him as she lifted
herself to straddle him. She ran her hands through his hair, never breaking the
kiss, digging her nails in his shoulders and chest. He grabbed her wrists, holding
them together behind her back.

“Fuck me… I beg you, Master...” she panted against his lips,
rocking herself against his growing erection.

He grabbed her hair and pulled her head back, breaking the kiss.
She still pulled toward his face, trying to find his lips again. He pulled her hair
even harder and heard her gasp, somewhere between a moan and a cry. He licked his
lips, his stare voracious; never had another woman looked so beautiful. She was
hypnotizing. Panting, desperately reaching for his lips, rocking against him while
ragged breaths escaped her moist lips, her eyelids heavy with wanton desire. She was
a far cry from the scared little girl he had brought to his house. He saw the woman
in her,
his woman
, claiming her man, with no shame or modesty. “Fuck
yourself,” he commanded her, his voice husky, still pulling her hair.

She raised her hips and tried to place him at her entrance,
struggling as he kept her hands pinned behind her back. He chuckled softly at her
vain efforts. He tilted his hip and placed himself at the right angle, then pulled
back every time she brought her hips down to take him in. She cried out in
frustration as he chuckled loudly, exhilarated. He brought his mouth to hers and
kissed her as passionately as she had, pulling her into him. He rubbed himself on
her, feeling her juices flow down on him. She met his movements, rocked her hips
along his, and kept trying to take him in. When he could no longer hold it, he let
her have her way. He struggled to resist his building orgasm from the first thrust,
while she moaned in his mouth. He pulled her head back again, hearing her pant
fuck
over and over again.

He came with a loud growl and kept fucking her. He
pulled her hair further down her back, twisted her wrists in, and forced her back to
arch completely into him, exposing her delicate neck. He leaned in and bit the
hollow of soft skin above her shoulder. She cried out, in pain or pleasure, he
wasn’t sure anymore.

“Come for me, Laura.”

She gasped, her cry loud and long, as she obeyed him.
Her
Master. Her Monster. Her Man
.

She didn’t collapse but kept straddling him with her back straight.
No one uttered a word. They remained as they were, their eyes locked on each other,
a wicked smile on both their lips.