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“I want to take a shower,” I tell him. I wonder if I’m allowed to say that. If he’ll want to accompany me. If he’ll deny me for some reason.
“Of course,” Damien says. He acts like this is the most natural thing in the world. It fucking isn’t.
I scamper out of the room and into my room to wash everything off of me. I can’t wash Damien off of me anymore than I can escape him.
Damien isn’t just touching me and erasing my past, he’s marking my future. I know now, beneath the pelting hot water that I try to get release from, that I am always going to remember what Damien has done to my body. So what? That pleasure is nothing compared to what he has done to my mind. He has become something I want. Yet, not in the throes of an orgasm or under his current control in this second, I am afraid. I feel feeble. It’s like all the begging I did to come, asking if he was going to keep me, telling him that I want to be good…it’s like the words I know that I said must’ve come from someone else’s mouth because no way could I have been the one who said them. I wash my hair, wash my body, and feel the control of my body returning to me. I’m not oversensitive anymore, and I’m starting to feel downright exhausted. I’m going to close my eyes, but then I’ll be trapped in dreams of Damien. I know I can’t erase him from my mind. I have to separate this part of me later. I have to find the confidence to be this good girl and his…and then escape and peel off that person as my past…like a skin coming off a snake.
I feel like a snake. Like I’m betraying myself.
Because I have never felt like I belonged more than when Damien told me I was being good. I can’t let that be my strength. Damien can’t tear me down and make me feel like he’s building me up…can he?
9
Sarah
In the safety of my bedroom, I found a brazen lust within me. A confidence and a desire that surpassed my fear, nerves, or even good sense.
Now I’ve left the room that Damien has set up as mine. I’m standing in front of a table in his foyer as he summons me. I’m shaken completely by this summoning. I have lost all the fire in me that made me push to get to come. I don’t know where I stand right now.
But now, I’m in Damien’s crosshairs with none of that confidence. None of the brazen lust could save me. I have whimpering, fearful arousal from my traitorous body and it’s a torture that felt so frightening and so good at the same time that I felt I was just one second away from crying. I’m not sad. Sure, I do have things that I could be sad about. But of all the emotions that are swirling within me, sadness isn’t one. I’m a rainbow of lust, angst, fear, and anticipation.
Damien’s eyes take me in now. Dark and lust-filled, they are like the key and the lock to this maze swirling inside me. Those eyes hold the secrets to my deepest desires, and they lock me away in how he fulfills them without even taking my virginity.
I don’t know why Damien doesn’t fuck me. The little voice in my soul tells me that it has nothing to do with the fact that I’m a virgin. If anything, my virginity should mean that he wants to fuck me more, right? Guys like that first-one-to-go-there thing, right?
There is nothing about Damien that is like other guys. I could never presume to know what he’s going to do much less compare it to my already meager knowledge of men.
I remember the tickets, now. What if he is merely sampling the wares without ruining the merchandise? That file can’t just be for Damien…he has me and knows all those things. They seem like a deed. I guess it could be just for Damien, but I can’t shake the feeling that they mean something else. That the tickets are intended to be used for offering me up to someone else. It is foolish, it is shameful, but the idea of someone else taking my virginity, if it is to be taken, is horrible to me. I want him to want to have me for himself. If nothing else, after all the sexual agony and ecstasy that Damien has put me through, it honestly just seems wrong to imagine anyone else taking my ‘v-card.’ God that seems damn foolish to think of that way.
I have to stop using boyfriend, normal-type things about Damien in my mind. That’s just so not the case. I mean, who has a boyfriend that tells them if they can orgasm or not? Who owns them? Fuck, everything about this is so twisted because I have this sinking feeling that I’m somehow ruined for normal. That Damien has given me a taste of something so very different…and maybe I’ll never be able to have anything different. That even if I escape that I’m still forever warped.
