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Chapter Two
A dark cloud of fear closed in on me as the man before me licked his lips in expectation. His hands were once again travelling all over my body, seeking out every imperfection, every dip, every curve. His gaze went from my face to my lips. From my lips to my chest. From my chest to my hips. And lower.
'Why is this happening? What did I do? I don't deserve this. This can't be happening.' A constant chant running through my mind, replaying in my head, tormenting me with questions I would never get answers to. My body felt dirty, contaminated. My heart felt shattered. My soul. Dead.
He went for the top button on my jeans, jerked the innocent material apart, revealing the top of my lace underwear. A moan of pleasure escaped his lips, his eyes, hooded. He kissed me, hard, his tongue demanded entry into my mouth. I clamped my mouth together, refusing. I heard him growl once again, a low fierce threat of pain, a promise of no mercy. I whimpered and relaxed my mouth, knowing I was only begging for more torment unless he got his wishes.
His tongue shot into my mouth, seeking every dark hole. He licked my tongue, my teeth, my cheeks, the roof of my mouth. He tasted even worse than before. The beer more prominent, the cigarette's more fowl. It was like a poison, a toxic potion of dark promises yet to be delivered.
His hand went from my face, travelled down my neck to my shoulder, to my breasts. He handled me roughly, without mercy or thought. From my breasts to my flat stomach and to the top of my underwear. He moaned as his hand went further, handling me between my legs. I cried out in protest and jerked from his touch. He bit down on my my lower lip, an evil laugh formed from his mouth. "You may not like it, but I sure as hell do." He drawled, unzipping my jeans, giving him more access to my body.
I was shaking uncontrollably, my legs protesting my weight. I felt detached, like a witness to a horrible nightmare. My thoughts were unintelligible, making no sense to me. His touch was everywhere, roaming my body, contaminating me further.
I heard the sounds of distant music. Heavy metal. Trance. Rap. People leaving the nearby clubs and bars, heading home for the evening. Shouting. Singing. Cars travelling around the city. Cats going through nearby garbage bins. My heart beating erratically. His heavy breathing and moans of pleasure. I felt sick to my stomach.
My eyes were sealed tightly. I didn't want to watch as this drunk manhandled my body, invaded my world. It was enough to feel it. I could feel his hands, his mouth, the night air.
His hands left my body for a moment and I heard a zipper. 'Oh no! It's happening! I don't want this! Please somebody stop this!' The words zoomed through my mind, a silent plea of mercy that were heard by no one but me. Then his hands were on me again, at my breast, pushing the innocent material aside, his hand clamped over my flesh, the other at my jeans once more. His hand was slipping into my underwear.
Then his touch was gone.
His heavy breathing disappeared.
The air stirred around me, a rush of electricity sizzled in the night. I open my eyes a fraction. A dark shape was a few feet from me, crouched in a pose for fighting. For defending. The drunk was on the ground before the huge shadow, whimpering and twitching. Blood pooled on the floor around his upper torso, an ocean of deep crimson. A large stain of blood coated his shirt over his stomach. I gaze focused on that area and found a deep tear in his shirt, his stomach. My gut clenched in protest and I fell to the ground, collapsing in a heap on the dirty paving. I was dizzy, my mind turning in fast circles, like a roundabout in my mind.
I heard a cry of protest and the slash of metal flying through the air. A sharp sound. Silence. I stopped breathing, fear gripping me, tightening my throat. 'No no no... This isn't happening. This can't be happening.' The same thoughts, never ending plea's for this to be a dream. A different danger now.
I heard heavy footsteps, closing in on me. I whimpered and tightened into a fetal position. I didn't know what felt worse. The knowledge that I was about to be raped, my body used for another person's pleasure. Or this unknown shadow closing in on me.
"Are you okay?" A deep, husky voice permitted the silence. It was a beautiful sound, enthralling. Sexy.
I looked up, but kept my position. The gaze that met mine was... hypnotic. Piercing teal green eyes, sparkling jewels, captured and held my gaze. The weren't warm. They were bottomless with pain and despair. But the concern was etched in his face. His lips full. His nose straight. His jaw prominent. Perfection. Dark wisps of hair fell from his head. It fell to his jaw, straight. It glistened. Even with no stars or moonlight. Beautiful.
"Hey, are you okay? Did he hurt you?" That voice again. It created heat in my frozen veins, made my heart beat more ecstatically. My stomach tightened. Not in fear now, but expectation.
I opened my mouth, but no sound would come out. I tried again. Still no answer. I shook my head side to side, telling him I was okay. "Okay... That's good. Can I come closer? I want to check for myself, if that's okay?" He replied. He didn't move until I nodded in agreement.
He came closer, slowly, not making a simple move to scare me. His movements deliberate. He was next to me now. He bent down beside me and handed me my top, his gaze never leaving mine. It was damp and smeared with dirt after being dumped on the cold stone pavement. "You can't put this on. Let me get you your jacket,okay?" He asked.
"Y-yes... Thank you." I propped myself you on my arms, still shaking slightly. He turned away to pick up my jacket and I took it my appearance. My breast was revealed, so I quickly pulled my bra back into place, feeling disgusted as I did. My right arm was caked in brown dirt, smeared down my right hand side, down my ribs and stomach. My jeans were unzipped, my underwear still visible. I tried to zip them up, but it was broken, so I just pulled them together and buttoned them. I sat up straight as he turned back to me, jacket in his hand. He handed it to me.
"Thank you." As I put it on, I saw his look down at my stomach, my arms. Checking for bruises? I zipped it up and looked up at him again. His gaze was still on mine, his expression calmer. "Are you feeling okay?" He asked, his tone thick with concern. I just stared at him. I couldn't look away. My mind didn't process his words straight away. "Um... Yeah. I'm okay. Just a bit shook up" My voice sounded strange, weak, even to me.
"I can understand that. What you just went through was..." He paused, his gaze turned hard, dangerous. His eyes shone with fury. His mouth, a hard line. "Let me help you up, okay?" He reached his hand out to me, his skin looked smooth. I reached out, my hand shaking. 'What are you doing? You just got attacked and now your trusting this... man?' No. God. He was a God. I pressed my hand to his and he tightened his grip. He wasn't rough and he didn't hurt me, which was surprising. His aura screamed strength. Deadly strength... amongst other things.
We straightened and he loomed over me. He was extremely tall and very well built. His shoulders wide. His stomach rippled, hiding what I suspected to be a six pack. His black t-shirt strained against him. He wore black jeans and biker boots. A leather coat over his t-shirt, hung just below his hips.
His face turned confused. His eye's piercing my soul. He breathed deeply through his nose and exhaled slowly, his eyes hooded slightly. We were still holding each others hands, so he pulled me slightly towards him. I shivered in response and took in a sharp breath. "I'm sorry." His tone low, his eyes dropping to the floor. He released my hand at once.
I looked at him closely. Taking a step towards him, slowly. "Who are you?" I asked, my voice awed.
"Dominic. My name is Dominic."
© Amy Sagar
