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Caressing her cunt beneath the skirt to confirm she was wet, he unfastened his jeans and eased his thick cock into her, filling that aching void that was threatening to close in on her mind, as if he knew exactly what she needed at this moment. The ring pressed into her skin as she gripped the top of the bench. Her eyes clung to the band the same way, to the promise of it, as immediate and verifiable as the man’s body covering her now, driving into her.
“Tyler…” she gasped his name, her fingers clutching the bench edge as he pushed down the strapless top, freeing her breasts to grip them in his hands, kneading as he stroked her inside.
“Watch Mac and Violet,” he ordered in a firm tone that had a ragged edge, betraying his own desire at this moment. “And believe in fairy tales. In happy ever afters. In the fact that I will never stop loving you, no matter how often you pull away.
No matter how many times you get lost in the shadows, I’ll find you. Because you’re my light and salvation, angel. I have to have you to have light in my life. ”
He put his teeth to her shoulder then, his cock working her, bending her further over the bench. When he took command of her pussy with his fingers on her clit, he shoved her over the edge of the climax, leaving her writhing and crying out. The two figures stilled on the opposite end of the small pond and she knew they were listening to her pleasure, her pain, her fear, her fulfillment. It seemed all the different reactions were inseparable.
“Tyler, I can’t…”
“Come for me, angel. That’s all you have to do right now. Come for me. ”
Chapter Fifteen
But demons preyed on happiness, she knew that. She lay in her bed and heard him coming, knew that it was one more night to get through. She’d stopped wondering how long it would last. Just like an abused dog, she simply had to endure this moment and then there would be a void of nothingness. Nothingness was good, undemanding.
“Time for your punishment. ”
After he raped her, he turned her over. This hurt even more than the other way, but she’d learned not to resist. She smelled the cigarette, felt his organ penetrate her backside, heard his guttural command to her to stay still as he pressed the tip of the cigarette to her skin. Her flesh burned, but she didn’t move. She’d learned never to move.
“This is all there is. All there will ever be. This is your hell and mine. ” She hoped it would not be one of those odd nights when he turned her over, held her and cried. Called her “Mother” while her insides burned with agonizing pain and blood stained her thighs, her small buttocks.
When she fell from great heights the sky became white feathers. There was the sense of tearing as well as floating, as if there were two parts of her, her soul fighting to get loose of her body.
It’s because the soul is weightless, little sister. David’s voice seemed to whisper to her in her dreams. You just have to let go…
Only the voice wasn’t David’s. It was her father’s. His hands bruised, took, demanded, invaded.
She jerked out of the
dream, her body tense, motionless, afraid to move. Blinking several times, Marguerite told herself it was a dream, that the nightmare was no longer a reality. She used a simple one-syllable Kundalini chant to balance herself, the one she usually did to make the lie a workable rationalization so she could get up and face the day. But her reality had changed. The bed she was in was Tyler’s. There was a rose on the pillow next to her, a note from him to come join them for breakfast. When she reached for the note, she saw the ring on her finger. She looked at it for a while, her gaze shifting between it and his bold script on the note. As she touched the stem of the rose his fingers had touched, it occurred to her she was using the things he had left for her in the same way she had used the chant.
At length she rose, washed, put on her slacks and blouse, fixed her hair. It was when she was packing her bag she realized she had made a decision to leave. Suddenly needed to leave desperately. Shouldering her overnight bag, she walked down to the main floor to the foyer and heard them in the kitchen area. Mac and Violet. Joseph and Leila. Tyler. Talking, laughing, the relaxed atmosphere that friends could enjoy. That she’d enjoyed last night. Why couldn’t she hold on to it? Why did the darkness always come?
Because you’re always running from it. The answer is to stop running, to simply let the darkness have you. She shuddered at the insidious whisper which always sounded so simple, so truthful.
Hands coming at her out of the dark.
She yelped, spun, striking out at the touch. When everything came back into focus, Tyler had her hand, his brow furrowed in concern, his stance non-threatening and reassuring.
“Angel? Where are you going?”
“Home. I have to go home. ”
“Come have some breakfast. ” His eyes got that firm look, the determined set of his mouth that said he understood what was going on with her and he would help bring her out of it.
Only it wouldn’t matter. It always came back.
“Marguerite. ” He took her other hand, caressed her palms with his fingers. “It’s all right. ” His gaze took in the shadows under her eyes and he cursed himself for leaving her alone. “You had a bad dream. It was just a dream. ”
“No. ” She shook her head. “It’s a warning. ”
“Stay here and talk to me. ”
“No. ” She snapped it, yanked her hands away. “I have to go home. ”
“Marguerite, I’m not going to let you—”
