Chapter Sixteen #2
And he hits me again and again. From somewhere deep inside, I want to beg him to stop. But I don’t. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction. He continues the unrelenting rhythm. I cry out six more times. Eighteen slaps in total. My body is singing, singing from his merciless assault.
“Enough,” he breathes hoarsely. “Well done, Anastasia. Now I’m going to fuck you.”
He caresses my behind gently, and it burns as he strokes me around and around and down. Suddenly, he inserts two fingers inside me, taking me completely by surprise. I gasp, this new assault breaking through the numbness around my brain.
“Feel this. See how much your body likes this, Anastasia. You’re soaking, just for me.” There is awe in his voice. He moves his fingers in and out in quick succession.
I groan. No, surely not. And then his fingers are gone…and I’m left wanting.
“Next time, I will get you to count. Now, where’s that condom?”
He reaches beside him for the condom and lifts me gently, pushing me facedown onto the bed. I hear the sound of his zipper and the rip of the foil. He pulls my sweatpants off completely and then guides me into a kneeling position, gently caressing my now very sore behind.
“I’m going to take you now. You can come,” he murmurs.
What? Like I have a choice.
And he’s inside me, quickly filling me. I moan loudly.
He moves, pounding into me, a fast, intense pace against my sore behind.
The feeling is beyond exquisite, raw and debasing and mind-blowing.
My senses are ravaged, disconnected, solely concentrating on what he’s doing to me.
How he’s making me feel that familiar pull deep in my belly, tightening, quickening.
No…and my traitorous body explodes in an intense, body-shattering orgasm.
“Oh, Ana!” he cries out loudly as he finds his release, holding me in place as he pours himself into me. He collapses, panting hard beside me, and he pulls me on top of him and buries his face in my hair, holding me close.
“Oh, baby,” he breathes. “Welcome to my world.”
We lie there, panting together, waiting for our breathing to slow.
He gently strokes my hair. I’m on his chest again.
But this time, I don’t have the strength to lift my hand and feel him.
Boy…I survived. That wasn’t so bad. I’m more stoic than I thought.
My inner goddess is prostrate… Well, at least she’s quiet.
Christian nuzzles my hair again, inhaling deeply.
“Well done, baby,” he whispers, quiet joy in his voice.
His words curl around me like a soft, fluffy towel from The Heathman Hotel, and I’m so pleased that he’s happy.
He picks at the strap on my camisole. “Is this what you sleep in?” he asks gently.
“Yes,” I breathe sleepily.
“You should be in silks and satins, you beautiful girl. I’ll take you shopping.”
“I like my sweats,” I murmur, trying and failing to sound irritated.
He kisses my head again.
“We’ll see,” he says.
We lie for a few more minutes, hours, who knows, and I think I doze.
“I have to go,” he says, and leaning down, he kisses my forehead gently. “Are you okay?” His voice is soft.
I think about his question. My backside is sore. Well, glowing now, and amazingly I feel, apart from exhausted, radiant. The realization is humbling, unexpected. I don’t understand. “I’m okay,” I whisper. I don’t want to say more than that.
He rises. “Where’s your bathroom?”
“Down the hall to the left.”
He scoops up the other condom and heads out of the bedroom.
I rise stiffly and put my sweatpants back on.
They chafe a little against my still-smarting behind.
I’m so confused by my reaction. I remember him saying—I can’t remember when—that I would feel so much better after a good hiding.
How can that be so? I really don’t get it.
But strangely, I do. I can’t say that I enjoyed the experience.
In fact, I would still go a long way to avoid it, but now…
I have this safe, weird, bathed-in-afterglow, sated feeling.
I put my head in my hands. I just don’t understand.
Christian reenters the room. I can’t look him in the eye. I stare down at my hands.
“I found some baby oil. Let me rub it on your behind.”
What? “No. I’ll be fine.”
“Anastasia,” he warns.
I want to roll my eyes but quickly stop myself. I stand facing the bed. Sitting beside me, he gently pulls my sweatpants down again. Up and down like whores’ drawers, my subconscious remarks bitterly. In my head, I tell her where to go.
Christian squirts baby oil into his hand and then rubs my behind with careful tenderness—from makeup remover to soothing balm for a spanked ass, who would have thought it was such a versatile liquid.
“I like my hands on you,” he murmurs, and I have to agree. Me, too. “There,” he says when he’s finished, and he pulls my pants up again.
I glance over at my clock. It’s 10:30.
“I’m leaving now.”
“I’ll see you out.” I still can’t look at him.
Taking my hand, he leads me to the front door. Fortunately, Kate is still not home. She must still be having dinner with her folks and Ethan. I’m really glad she’s not been around to hear my chastisement.
“Don’t you have to call Taylor?” I ask, avoiding eye contact.
“Taylor’s been here since nine. Look at me,” he breathes.
I struggle to meet his eyes, but when I do, he’s gazing down at me with wonder.
“You didn’t cry,” he murmurs, then grabs me suddenly and kisses me fervently. “Sunday,” he whispers against my lips, and it’s both a promise and a threat.
I watch him walk down the path and climb into the big black Audi.
He doesn’t look back. I close the door and stand helpless in the living room of an apartment that I shall only spend another two nights in.
A place I have lived happily for almost four years…
yet today, for the first time ever, I feel lonely and uncomfortable here, unhappy with my own company.
Have I strayed so far from who I am? I know that lurking not very far under my rather numb exterior is a well of tears.
What am I doing? The irony is I can’t even sit down and enjoy a good cry.
I’ll have to stand. I know it’s late, but I decide to call my mom.
“Honey, how are you? How was graduation?” she enthuses down the phone. Her voice is a soothing balm.
“Sorry it’s so late,” I whisper.
She pauses. “Ana? What’s wrong?” She’s all seriousness now.
“Nothing, Mom, I just wanted to hear your voice.”
She’s silent for a moment. “Ana, what is it? Please tell me.” Her voice is soft and comforting, and I know she cares.
Uninvited, my tears begin to flow. I have cried so often in the last few days.
“Please, Ana,” she says, and her anguish reflects mine.
“Oh, Mom, it’s a man.”
“What’s he done to you?” Her alarm is palpable.
“It’s not like that.” Although it is… Oh crap. I don’t want to worry her. I just want someone else to be strong for me at the moment.
“Ana, please, you’re worrying me.”
I take a big breath. “I’ve kind of fallen for this guy, and he’s so different from me, and I don’t know if we should be together.”
“Oh, darling. I wish I could be with you. I am so sorry I missed your graduation. You’ve fallen for someone, finally. Oh, honey, men, they are tricky. They’re a different species, honey. How long have you known him?”
Christian is definitely a different species…different planet.
“Oh, nearly three weeks or so.”
“Ana, darling, that’s no time at all. How can you possibly know someone in that kind of time frame? Just take it easy with him and keep him at arm’s length until you decide whether he’s worthy of you.”
Wow…it’s unnerving when my mother is so insightful, but she’s just too late on this. Is he worthy of me? That’s an interesting concept. I always wonder whether I am worthy of him.
“Honey, you sound so unhappy. Come home—visit with us. I miss you, darling. Bob would love to see you, too. You can get some distance and maybe some perspective. You need a break. You’ve been working so hard.”
Oh boy, is this tempting. Run away to Georgia. Grab some sunshine, some cocktails. My mother’s good humor…her loving arms.
“I have two internship interviews in Seattle on Monday.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful news.”
The door opens and Kate appears, grinning at me. Her face falls when she sees I’ve been crying.
“Mom, I have to go. I’ll think about a visit. Thank you.”
“Honey, please, don’t let a man get under your skin. You’re far too young. Go enjoy yourself.”
“Yes, Mom, love you.”
“Oh, Ana, I love you, too, so much. Stay safe, honey.”
I hang up and face Kate, who glares at me.
“Has that obscenely rich fucker upset you again?”
“No… Sort of… Er…yes.”
“Just tell him to take a hike, Ana. You’ve been so up and down since you met him. I’ve never seen you like this.”
The world of Katherine Kavanagh is very clear, very black and white. Not the intangible, mysterious, vague hues of gray that color my world. Welcome to my world.
“Sit, let’s talk. Let’s have some wine. Oh, you’ve had champagne.” She spies the bottle. “Some good stuff, too.”
I smile ineffectually, looking apprehensively at the couch. I approach it with caution. Hmm…sitting.
“Are you okay?”
“I fell over and landed on my behind.”
She doesn’t think to question my explanation, because I am one of the most uncoordinated people in Washington State.
I never thought I’d see that as a blessing.
I sit down gingerly, pleasantly surprised that I’m okay, and turn my attention to Kate, but my mind glazes over and I’m pulled back to The Heathman.
Well, if you were mine, you wouldn’t be able to sit down for a week after the stunt you pulled yesterday.
He said it then, and all I could concentrate on at the time was being his.
All the warning signs were there; I was just too clueless and too enamored to notice.