Unlock Yourself (The Desires Unlocked Trilogy E-Short Part 0.5) (2 page)

How does Louise know? Is Ludwika’s story of being a trapped wife written so plainly upon her face?

Louise opens wide another door and makes her entrance. Ludwika is flooded with sensations: the frenzy of music, the heat from the compressed bodies as Louise leads her through the dancing throng, the heady taste of champagne as her companion hands her a tall flute from a passing waiter. Everyone knows Louise. They are waving to her, calling out to her.

Lulu … Lulu … they sing. Come play with us Lulu.

Louise glitters, and she laughs, and she kisses passers-by upon the lips but still she glides herself and Ludwika expertly through the crowd, past the sole songstress in suspenders and top hat, and round the back of the stage, through the black curtain and beyond.

This is where the real party begins, Louise says, then turns to her and winks.

She opens another door, and they stand upon the threshold of a second room, flickering with candlelight, smoky and full of shadows. Ludwika is a little frightened to go inside. Louise stands in front her, ushering her in, and yet Ludwika hesitates.

What are you afraid of? Louise asks her.

She shakes her head, unable to speak.

Isn’t this what you want? she asks her. We are the new spirit, Ludwika, we do it with brazenness!

Louise knows her better than herself, Ludwika thinks as she clasps her hands to her chest, and steps through, for isn’t this exactly what she came looking for tonight? Something clandestine and magical, something passionate and dangerous – everything that is not in her life. She wants Louise to unlock her cage. She wants to fly.

Her new friend leads Ludwika by the hand. The first thing she sees is nakedness. It doesn’t look shocking or bad; it is good, she thinks, to see all that is natural, uncovered. Two women sit facing each other on a gilt-edged chaise longue before her. They do not notice her, so intent they are upon each other’s bodies. She watches them stroking each other so delicately as if examining objects of rare beauty, lingering over each other’s nipples and plump bellies, and lacing their fingers together. Just watching them is softening her, making her warm in a place that has always felt cold. Louise squeezes her hand. She feels the firm cool grasp of her fingers curled around hers, and she is afraid to let go.

To her left Ludwika sees a man and a woman. They are doing what she and her husband did last night, and yet, it does not look to her how it felt. They are not two separate entities but one being, one complete movement of lovemaking. She cannot tear her eyes away, fascinated by this sight, this union of two.

Louise forces her to however, dragging her right to the back of the chamber, past the other loving couples, and sitting her on a crimson velvet chair, to face a couch the same shade of red. She hands her another glass of champagne, and Ludwika drinks the cold fizzing concoction down. Her husband never lets her have more than one glass of wine at dinner. She feels the drink beginning to affect her, the champagne lightening her fear.

All you need do is watch, Louise tells her.

Some of the couples are dancing, half naked, like primal beings she thinks, and yet like innocents too for there is no objective in this love chamber. Sex is not for procreation. It is for rapture; for bliss; for ecstasy. She wants to understand the essence of all these words.

Ludwika sits on the chair and she watches as Louise dances with a tall, curly haired man. He twirls her expertly and then, with his arm around her back, scoots her tightly into his body. They are motionless for a second. Like the last frame in a moving picture she once saw. Ludwika fell in love with that silent world of passion, where all emotion is contained within a look. They kiss. It lingers long after Louise has pulled back. Ludwika touches her own lips and she believes she can feel the burn of that kiss upon them, the sensation of his skin on her skin, the taste of him.

Louise sheds her dress. So naturally it slithers down her body to the floor, as if she really never belonged in clothes, as if her nudity is her most glamorous self. She is dancing naked against her suited gentleman. She turns and looks at Ludwika, smiling a secret smile, as if it is just between the two of them, as if he is the third party not Ludwika.

Look how free I am, she whispers through her eyes.

Now all the others fade away, and Ludwika is hypnotized by the dance of Louise and her gentleman. With one hand cupping her breast, her nipple pushing through his fanned fingers, he is reaching down and stroking her thighs. Ludwika watches mesmerised as she sees his fingertips inching closer and closer to the place between Louise’s legs, and it makes her own heart quicken and her loins soften to watch. She looks up at Louise’s face, her eyes smiling at her, her lips slightly parted, the little pink tongue pushed against her teeth. And then suddenly he lifts Louise, carries her like a bride across the threshold in his arms. Louise’s nakedness is pressed against his starched white shirt. Ludwika imagines the sensation of tender skin against cool cotton, of how it would feel to have this this man touching her body, his kisses upon her neck all the way down to the space between her clavicle, his hands upon her shoulders, stroking her arms, then cupping her breasts, and teasing her nipples. Lower still he touches Louise with his hands, circling her belly, and down further, palms flat against that space between her legs, encouraging her; never forcing, but inviting her to let him in.

He drapes Louise upon the couch before her, and kneels at her feet as if she is his queen. He kisses Louise’s toes, every single tiny one of them. Ludwika marvels at his diligence. She could never imagine her husband holding such adoration for her that he would kneel before her and lick her feet. Louise’s gentleman kisses around her ankles, the soft round of flesh at the back of her calves, all the way up Louise’s legs, around her knees, and up her slender thighs. She hears a hushed sigh release from Louise’s mouth and Ludwika imagines it to be a sigh of longing inside her own tight breast. Ludwika’s dress is taut upon her body for she feels as if her corset is squeezing all the spirit from her. She cannot hold back any longer. She begins to unbutton herself, rip at the seams, tear out the threads until she has abandoned all outer garments Now she is in her corset, her breasts bursting against its boned confines, demanding release.

Louise opens her legs. Wide. For the first time in Ludwika’s life she sees what she looks like, mirrored, in the most secret part of herself. Why, it is a beautiful thing, she marvels. So much more delicate and enticing than her husband’s member, the article of attack. She has been told, by her maid (in blushing giggles), that a woman’s private parts are just like the petals of a flower. But Louise is no kitchen-garden bloom. Her flower belongs somewhere exotic, tropical, luscious. Ludwika gazes at the startling red of it, and watches the gentleman’s fingers as they gently stroke and part her namesake’s lips. And as Ludwika sits on her chair she cannot help but part her own legs. Ah yes, she cannot stop her own hand from straying in between, her other pulling down her own undergarments, and searching for her own sweet bud. She touches herself and quivers. Oh, what is this feeling? She has never felt so sensitive before. Ludwika looks to Louise, who holds her gaze, and bestows on her that secret smile again. As if she is the only other person in the room, despite the heaving couples all around them, despite the beautiful young man, head bowed, who is on his knees and murmuring within Louise’s flower. Ludwika’s fingers pry apart her juicy lips, and she begins to stroke herself, imagining his plush mouth against her own velvet. She is soft, wet. She has never felt so open, so receptive. With her husband she is brittle, dry, she thinks he could snap her like a twig when he comes, yet here in this room of rapture she is blinded by her own desires. She wants. … she wants …

As Ludwika gazes at Louise, the other woman reaches down and puts her hands either side of her lover’s head. She stills him, so that he stops caressing her with his lips and pulls back, looking up at her. She smiles at him, and she can sense him melt beneath her intoxicating gaze. She bends down and whispers in his ear. He nods, spinning on his heels to look at Ludwika, and she feels caught in his glare, her hand between her legs. He stands and for the first time she notices that he is now naked, yet she has no memory of him undressing, for all she saw was his kissing of Louise. Maybe he is not even the same man Louise was dancing with. Did he not have dark curly hair, and yet this man’s hair is fair, and long? Ludwika doesn’t examine his face. All she sees is his height, and his strength, and his nakedness. For the first time in her life it is no longer her foe. In fact she is drawn to his sex. She looks at its length, smooth and firm, and curved upright. She wants him to hook her inside. She feels such a deep ache inside her womb. He walks towards her and crouches down so that his face hovers above hers. His eyes look into her, and they are dancing with warmth, and goodness. He puts his arms around her back, and slowly unlaces her corset. With each lace unthreaded she breathes out, and he catches it, returns her life to her with a kiss upon her lips. He undoes her, and her breasts tumble upon his bare, smooth chest. He clasps his hands behind her back; she feels them pressed against her tailbone as he slides her onto his lap. So naturally, without all the effort and the friction and the slamming of her husband, so seamlessly this man fills her. She takes him in, opening up, receiving, until the tip of him is connecting with the deepest part of her. He puts his hands on either side of her waist and she feels the power and strength within him. He lifts her high up on to his shaft, and then sits her back down again so that he is even deeper within her. She has never felt this before, this merging with another being so that she can feel the vibrations deep within his body, under the skin, the pulsing rapture of his very entity. She looks beyond him, her vision filled with flickering shadows and light, playing on her senses. Louise is standing behind him, facing her, again the secret smile fluttering on her lips. She is holding a pair of scissors in her hands, and for a second Ludwika feels a thrill of fear. Is she in danger? The thought does not deter her, no, it merely heightens her passion further, for she no longer cares about a life without love. And she is receiving more love from this stranger than her husband has ever given her all their years of marriage.

Louise walks towards her, scissors cradled within her hands, her small plump breasts expectant, her tiny dancer’s waist bewitching, her long lean legs gliding as if she is on skates. The curl of dark hair between her legs looks like a downy heart, and the memory of those plush red lips of her pussy makes Ludwika quiver around her lover’s golden cock.

Louise walks around behind her, and Ludwika flinches as she feels the tip of the cold metal brush against her bare back and trail down her spine. Is Louise a killer? Will she plunge the knife in? Yet Ludwika trusts her. She knows she will not hurt her, only set her free. For now she feels Louise’s hands pulling at her hair, dismantling the tight bun upon her head, tugging at it with determination so that it falls into one long sweeping crescendo. As her husband did last night, Louise gathers up Ludwika’s hair in one long dangling tail, and yet so different it feels now. Louise pulls her hair, firm yet gentle, tipping back her head in rhythm with her lover rising within her.

She hears before she feels it. The snap of the scissors, and then the drop of weight, the lightness of air around her, the coolness upon her neck, and the kiss of Louise’s silk lips upon her bare nape. In that moment Ludwika spirals into abandon, a free bird spinning in the sun. It is her first time.

The next day her husband beats her for it, insists she grows her hair back. But she never does. The cage door is open now.

Read on for a sneak preview of
Liberate Yourself
, the first book in the thrilling, intensely passionate
Desires Unlocked
trilogy. Available now from Headline.

VALENTINA PUSHES HERSELF UP ON TO HER ELBOWS AND
gazes at her lover. Six months they have been living together. She leans over and carefully arranges her arm across Theo’s back. She loves to do this while he is sleeping, when he doesn’t know how she likes to imagine the two of them together, and all that could be possible. Tenderly she strokes his flawless skin, letting herself express a rare moment of affection. It is a gesture she is careful never to make when Theo is actually awake.

Valentina examines her flaxen whiteness against the sallow colouring of Theo Steen, and considers what a perfect contrast the two of them are. She is as pale and fine boned as her beloved twenties icon Louise Brooks. He is dark skinned, more sultry than any Latin lover she has ever known, yet with disturbingly bright blue eyes. It would make more sense if it were she who was dark. She is after all the Italian, while Theo is from New York, his parents Dutch immigrants. She doesn’t know much about his background, but it appears very different from hers. He is close to his parents, both of them, and to Valentina’s eyes his childhood was charmed. So much attention and expense lavished upon him. Theo is an accomplished cellist, equestrian and fencer, as well as speaking a myriad of languages. He could have gone into any profession he chose. He is one of those men she thought would irritate her. A privileged high-achiever who doesn’t need to worry about making a living, and can indulge full-time in his passion – the study and analysis of modern art. Yet she did not dump him at the first opportunity, as she thought she might; instead here he is in her bed, lost in the innocence of sleep right beside her. He is
living
with her.

Valentina looks down at her sleeping lover. Theo is lying on his stomach, his head turned away from her. She wonders where his dreams take him. She wonders if he will wake with the memory of her touch upon his skin. Last night she wanted to make him come so much, and yet strangely she had no desire to have an orgasm herself. This is not usual for her, not very Valentina, she thinks. Even now she is not demanding morning sex. At some point does the passion fade? If you took away the sexual desire between her and Theo, would there be nothing left? Strangers before their union; and strangers again afterwards. Is it time to end it?
No, not yet
, a voice begs inside her head, and she tries to swallow her anxiety. She is panicking unnecessarily. This is just all so new to her, to be cohabiting.