Matilda Wren (6 page)

Hundreds of women had crossed his threshold and not one of them had come close to stopping the yearning he had for her. Not one had impacted the desire he held for her.

There had been so many faceless women. If he came across one of them again, he wouldn’t have known.

He wouldn’t remember if he had already had sex with them. They had not even entered his orbit. Faceless women, which were there to replace what he had lost. To make him forget for a while at least, with a shimmer of hope that maybe this one, this time, would take her place. But it never happened. The faceless women didn’t help. Only she could stop the ache he felt for her.

It had been a very long nine years, to constantly think about one person and here he was, laying it all out on the line, praying to some higher being that she would say yes and go with him. He looked into her eyes, as if he could somehow penetrate just what he was feeling into them, so she would know just how much she took of him, when she left. That she took him completely and the women, the faceless women; some of them had paid the price.

Some had paid the price emotionally. If their encounter had happened more than once, which was rare, Sean would emotionally abuse them. He would grind them down until they were vulnerable and defenceless and then he would dispose of them and move onto the next. The weak ones just plain annoyed him. There was no empathy with Sean, no compassion.

He punished the girls because they let him do it. They were needy and requested constant affirmation. They were not Rachel, they didn’t behave like Rachel and they weren’t strong like Rachel. They didn’t know when to walk away.

They were insignificant.

Some paid the price physically. Sex was all he was after and it was self gratifying sex at that. Sometimes it was consensual, other times it wasn’t. But it was always rough and commanding and sometimes violent. They were irrelevant faceless women.

Sean knew he was bad. He believed he was born evil and that was the way it was. He couldn’t change it, it was the hand he had been dealt. He had accepted his fate. He was first aware of it when he was about seven years old. His sister had been given a kitten for her birthday.

One day, for no reason at all, just because the idea sprung into his mind, he took the kitten out into his dads shed at the bottom of their garden and spent several hours torturing it.

The more he tortured it, the more he enjoyed it. It had caused a stirring sensation in his groin. The more the kitten squeaked, the more intense the sensation. They were his first intimate feelings. Although at the time he didn’t know what they were. That knowledge came much later.

It was after Rachel had walked away and the torrent of faceless women that he made his way through did those particular feelings surface again. He enjoyed stripping away their dignity and dehumanising them. He became aroused when they begged him to stop; their pleas goading him on.

He took pleasure in their pain, like with the kitten.

Only, women were better than kittens. They begged, which made him feel powerful. He was in control. They would leave when
he
was done; when
he
was ready for them to leave. But every now and then, he secretly hoped that one of them, just one of them, would make him feel like she did, like he could be normal and good inside.

But of course they never did. But then, they were lost faceless women, with no real connections to anywhere or anyone. That is why he chose them to begin with. They wouldn’t tell anyone the things he had done to them because they had no one to tell. Some had been prostitutes, some were crack addicts and some were nice good girls that had fallen prey to Sean Fergus.

Whatever they were or became, they had never told.

They had never stopped him. It was only when he was around her, did he question his immoralities and malevolence. He would never intentionally hurt her in any way. He would die protecting her. The faceless women never received the same courtesy. He was so glad that she didn’t know about some of the things he had done over the years.

He looked at her now. To him, she was his angel. The devil had been living inside of him for so long and right now the other side started fighting back. After what seemed to Sean as an eternity, Rachel nodded. It was all she could do.

Speaking was not an option.

Before she knew what was happening, he had led her out of the bistro and into the car park. There was a wintry feel to the air now and Rachel welcomed the chill. It seemed to steady her a little. Sean took a small bunch of keys from his pocket and pressed the button on one of them. The lights of a black BMW bleeped on and he directed her round to the passenger door.

He leant across her, as if to open the door but instead grabbed hold of her and pushed her up against the car.

As much as he forcibly held her, he could feel she hadn’t struggled, she hadn’t even gasped when he grabbed her. She just looked at him, waiting to see what he was going to do next. “Do you know how many times I have thought about this? Being this close to you?” His hand moved up into her hair. She could feel his finger, gently tracing the outline of her ear. His thumb brushed along her chin and over her lips.

Rachel instinctively opened her mouth a little and lightly kissed his thumb. The action was the most natural response she had ever made towards another person.

There was no forward planning, no thinking. It was like her body was taking over her mind. His lips were so close she could almost feel them. Any second now he would kiss her… she was certain of it, until his hand wavered. He was hesitating. Rachel pulled him even closer to her.

“Please, don’t stop…” She whispered “Not here” He murmured.

He slid his hand behind her and opened the door, gently moving her aside so he could open it fully. He smiled at her then and his fingers entwined with hers.

“Can I take you to mine?”

* * *

The house was not what she was expecting. A five-bedroom detached house, on the Essex-Suffolk border; Sudbury was a tiny, archaic market town on the River Stour.

Rachel had never been to this part of East Anglia before and the sheer sense of tranquillity that lay siege to the rich mosaic landscape enchanted her.

It was definitely different to the council house he had lived in with his mum, dad and sisters, nine years ago. It was a typical example of Suffolk vernacular architecture, constructed from a timber frame with wattle and daub in-fill. It really was quite stunning, Rachel thought as she stood in the entrance hall. This was so big you could have fit the whole of her flat in it.

The stone walls were painted a brilliant white, giving an air of vastness to it; a magnificent marble staircase with classical columns faced her and led to the upper floors. The staircase hall was lit by a central dome and the fan-shaped plasterwork matched the wrought iron baluster. The rooms off to either side of the hall each possessed a solid oak door, with black iron handles and, somewhat in contrast to the house, the walls were adorned with various pieces of modern art. Standing a little way away, watching her, he was pleased with her reaction. It looked like he had done well for himself.

It was certainly true that crime pays. She was impressed and that was what he wanted. She turned to face him.

They hadn’t spoken for what must have been an hour journey in the car. The tension was rising. Rachel could feel it. Sean could feel it. One of them had to say something soon. Sean could feel the impatience rise inside of him.

He was trying so hard not to let it show, to not reveal the evilness that lived there. He was totally out of his comfort zone.

He didn’t know how to respond to the sexual chemistry that was so evident. It wasn’t anything that he had experienced before. All he knew was how to degrade a woman into doing what he wanted. But this was her; Rachel. She was entirely out of his league, yet she had implored him not to stop.

“Come here.” Finally he spoke; although it was more ordered than requested; silently his infuriation rose. He had not meant that tone.

Rachel bit her bottom lip.

“Why am I here Sean? Why have you brought me here?”

She waved her arms to exaggerate what she meant. “What…?

You think if you bring me here and show me how well you have done, that I would realise what I could have had and just fall to my knees?”

“I had you falling to your knees in the car park.” Sean interrupted, walking towards her. “Remember?”

Rachel smiled then. “Who just made who come to whom?”

As he reached her, he realised what she had just done.

He saw the glint in her eye.

Her hands grabbed his belt; she ferociously pulled him towards her and brushed her lips against his.

“Sean, don’t ever underestimate me.”

He looked into her eyes. They told him in no uncertain terms that she was not one of those faceless women who would participate in his demands. He told her to come to him and she had instantly made the opposite happen. God he loved this women.

He loved the feel of her hands on his belt, pulling him to her. He loved her soft lips, teasingly tracing his and he loved it when she pressed them onto his, with such ferocity that he could have taken her there and then. But he didn’t.

He wanted to explore every inch of her. Her tongue slowly wrapped itself around his and her lips moved around his, in perfect motion.

He hadn’t let himself remember her kiss. It was too painful. He had blocked it out and now, here she was, kissing him. Her hands dug deeper inside his belt. He felt her urgency. He ripped off her coat and she lifted her arms for him to take off her dress. He managed successfully to do this in one swift movement, as she took off his t shirt and undid his belt and jeans.

Within seconds, they were both standing naked. He ran his hands up her back and over her shoulders. She shuddered at his touch when his fingers slipped inside her.

He thrust them in and out, making her involuntarily moan.

She felt as if she was going to explode if he didn’t stop. The sensation was nothing she had experienced before. Her head spun frenziedly and she could feel every part of her body shaking.

She had experienced orgasms before, but nothing like this, nothing quite so extreme; nothing so fast. As she felt it release from her, she suddenly became aware of him watching her so intently.

“I never knew I could make someone respond like that.”

He breathed heavily as he found her mouth with his.

Sean was as completely taken away as she was. He had never been interested in pleasing the faceless women. It was all about his fulfilment with them. Rachel made him want to kiss and stroke every inch of her, to entirely take her in.

He lifted her up; instinctively she wrapped her legs around him, still kissing her he walked across the porcelain tiled floor to one of the large oak doors.

It opened onto a large, round reception room, equally as spectacular as the hall, although in a more lived-in, used, way. A colossal TV screen stood in front of the extensive bay windows and to the right a magnificently crafted Portland stone and black fossil-filled limestone fireplace displayed old and recent photographs, in heavy silver frames.

Slim-line, black, shiny speakers stood in solitude in their prestigiously placed positions around the circular room, all enfolding to an enormous sofa in the middle. A deep red, soft leather frame that was abundant with giant soft chenille cushions. The darkness of the red reflected in the paleness of her milky white skin.

He lowered her down gently but she kept her legs wrapped round him; as her head hit the cushions she arched her hips slightly making Sean enter her. He wasn’t ready yet, he wanted more time to observe her and touch her but she felt so damn good and she wanted him.

That much he definitely knew. She really wanted him. If he wasn’t careful he could lose control, he could feel himself losing control. He wanted to grab her hips and ride her so fucking hard. He wanted to pull at her nipples with his teeth. He wanted to sink his face into her and taste her.

He didn’t want to hurt her, he really didn’t, but he just had all these feelings and drives on overload. Every sense was heightened and he couldn’t stop himself. He lifted her arms above her head, pinning her to the sofa. He thrust himself roughly inside her, again and again.

She took him each time without fail. She didn’t cry out in pain, she didn’t beg him to stop. She cried out in pleasure; more than once. She cried out his name and she groaned in rapture. She lifted her legs a little higher so he could move in deeper. He was unaware he was about to come, right up until he did.

Neither of them moved. They both lay as they were, panting and listening to the drumming of their heartbeats.

Sean still had Rachel’s arms pinned above her head, although his grip was looser now. He was still inside her and she wasn’t recoiling from him, which felt a little unusual.

She didn’t have a look of fear and hatred in her eyes either. What was it about this girl? Why did she make him feel like she did? He couldn’t believe it when she got in the car. He really thought she would suddenly come to her senses and walk away from him. Any minute now, he kept thinking.

He knew she was with someone. He knew him. They had been in the same year, at the same school. That was the thing about Essex. Everybody knew everybody. They weren’t friends but Sean knew who he was. He was a decent bloke, with a decent job. He was a decent bloke, who got to take this girl, his girl; and she was his girl, always had been, to bed every night. The image of him touching her suddenly drove him madly insane.

“Does he make you feel like that?” He had to ask.

He couldn’t help himself. The words were out before he realised.

“Sean… don’t…”

“Does he? Does he make you come within seconds?”

As he spoke the words, Sean felt himself get hard inside her again.

So did Rachel. She felt him move in and out incredibly slowly. It felt amazing, the less he moved the more intense it felt.

“No…” It was a whisper. “He doesn’t make me feel like you do. No one ever has. It has always only been you.”