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Covetous desire.
I back away from her as she gets closer because of my inability to keep the torment of something I want under control. It’s too strong inside me. Too meaningful. She is. And it’s all becoming more valuable to me than anyone here could imagine. I want it all. I want to stay and live, evolve with her and find sense in the senseless. Forget.
Hide maybe.
“Are we dancing now?” she asks. I watch her lips shivering, droplets of water still cascading from them, as she smiles seductively. No shame on her face. No appearance of remorse or confusion anymore. “I asked for that. I want that now. With you.”
Her hand reaches for my face, fragile, icy fingers landing on the stubble. “Where’s your mask?” she whispers. I don’t know. Don’t care. Thrown away, along with my care for the outside world around us. And I’m not hiding from her now I’ve sunk this pill. Don’t want any games either. It will be us and us alone. All night. Without anything or any thoughts getting in the way of that.
I pull her to me, gratitude and appreciation for her life filling me with more thoughts I shouldn’t be thinking. But they’re there now. Deep inside and rooted. The acceptance makes me tip the mask off her face for that reason alone and cast it out into the water. Too attractive. Always was, even at the wake in her dismal state. And especially at the opera with tears in her eyes. I gaze at the features staring at me, letting myself fall deeper into them until I can see through the pupils dilated into corners filled with dark intent. Tonight. All night.
Forgetting.
Her hands hover on my jaw, lips trembling with unspoken words between us. I don’t need to hear them. I can feel them now the pill is circulating and connecting us again.
“Put your dress on, Hannah. It’s time to dance.”
She waits, no movement at all, as she keeps staring up at me and blinks. My fingers move of their own accord, pushing one lone, slick curl of dark hair back into place, and then I do the only thing that makes the apprehensive air around us tolerable. One step away, two, until she’s on her own again and waiting for instruction. She’s not getting any. Not now. Now she can make up her own mind and work out what I want from my stare alone. If she wants connected, if she wants my all, then she can feel her way through the experience and hang on if I offer that support.
My feet are heavy as I weave the tunnels back to the upper floors, laboured for reasons I can’t explain. Maybe it’s the continued guilt raging inside, the sense of remorse already mingling with anticipation. It doesn’t matter now, though. I’ve done it.
Am doing it.
I wait at the top of the steps, eyes peering at the invasive yet provocative devices in the smoking room, and shake my head at a sultry woman who approaches me.
“No?” she says, with a pout. No. Not even as she moves her body seductively, swaying for me so I’ll take hold and rut into her with any of the equipment available.
I look past her, through her, and think of the woman who’s coming to dance. Lithe. Small and fragile. A rare beauty that was draped in misery and wretchedness meant for me alone. My mouth smiles, soiled thoughts scattering aimlessly because of the visual that presented. But that doesn’t seem all she is anymore. Evolved. Changed.
And that goddamn smile will be etched into me for as long as I live.
Several large dildos lie around, wet and used. A cane untamed thwaks the ass of some insubordinate. I pull out my pack of cigarettes and linger against the wall, eyes searching for inspiration to pain her if that’s what she wants or I feel like. I’m not one of these people. Never have been. I watch. I watch and loiter in obscure corners while others moan and groan in the middle of their discourse. My dick likes it all, though. It rages and hums with its own sense of need, denied torment making it feel vicious and aggressive for more of her skin.
I pull in a lungful of smoke and chuckle, wondering why nothing has tempted me before her, and then stub the damned thing out and move through the rooms without care to the thoughts. What does it matter why it’s her? It just is. We have just become. Malachi is right whether I accept that or not. And I will miss this more than ever when we leave because of her.
I’m about to swallow another pill, throw myself off the goddamn cliff with no turning back, when the shadow of a hooked nose blows up on the far wall. I look behind me and see him stalking through the chambers, women’s hands reaching for him as he goes by. He pushes them away, his mask focused on me alone in the middle of all this.
“She’s waiting for you on the floor,” he says. “Hurry before someone else gets hold of her.”
I nod and stare at him, feeling a need to apologise for whatever that was down there in the cave. No need, though. He would have thrown me out of here if he was offended by my agitation without any more words on the matter.
“And Gray, stay off the pills.” A woman slips her arms around him, another one joining her and running her fingers over the mask. He chuckles darkly at them both and pulls them in tight, eyes still looking at me behind the covering. “Enjoy her. I did ask her to do the same, but you had to pick a wilful one, didn’t you?” One of the women coos, her leg curling round his. And then he’s gone into the dark depths of the crowds, no more words to speak.
No more games to play.
Wilful? Yes. Yes I would pick a wilful one. A wilful and direct one. I turn and focus on the corridors to get out to her, barely any other thought or care on what I’m doing, and replace the pill I was taking with a different one. I’m doing her. That’s all. And by the feel of her tonight, by that smile she delivered, she’s doing me, too.
The thought makes me growl and speed up, part amused at her tenacity to get into me even though I’ve done nothing but keep her as distant as I can. There is no distance anymore, and regardless of people getting in my way, and more women trying to tempt me passed my need for her, I keep moving and cutting through the masses to get to her alone.
Faith appears in my view in the side lines, her blue dress lost and nothing but skin and a mask on show as she beats a man with a chain. I sneer, bypassing the scene, and finally get to the main floor, my eyes searching for Hannah in the crowds. It doesn’t take me long to find her. She’s in the middle of them all, arms stretched up to the ceiling above her as she watches women tumble from the silks. She’s laughing and alone, remarkable regardless of the swarm of bodies around her. In fact, the sea seems parted for her.
I cut through some of it and linger on the edge of her small, empty circle to watch more closely, hypnotised. Her dance. Her. My hands move softly to my pockets, as the train of the black lace tumbles and turns with her. Long graceful movements again, as if she’s still in that water and evolving past who she was before. Good. Maybe she’ll be ready for the outside world now. My thoughts darken, eyes skimming her body repeatedly as I think of the possibilities I can’t have other than this night. That’s life, though. It’s my life, anyway. No matter how much she makes me want something different.
Chapter 15
Hannah
He’s here. I can feel him. I smile and twirl, part lost in all this glory and part letting him inch into me from wherever he is. Strong hands. Forceful hands. They’re on me, guiding me, as I keep coiling and turning. Fingers are biting in, bruising me and ruining thoughts of other men.
