Lauren on her knees at my feet, holding eye contact with me with her steady green gaze, is the most chilling and sobering sight I have ever seen - more so than Lucy and her gun. The vague alcoholic fuzziness I'm suffering from evaporates in an instant and is replaced by a prickling scalp and a creeping sense of doom as the blood drains from my face.
I inhale sharply with shock. No. No, this is wrong, so wrong and so disturbing.
"Lauren, please, don't do this. I don't want this."
She continues to regard me passively, not moving, saying nothing.
Oh fuck.
My poor Fifty. My heart squeezes and twists. What the hell have I done to her? Tears prick my eyes.
"Why are you doing this? Talk to me," I whisper.
She blinks once.
"What would you like me to say Master?" She says softly, blandly, and for a moment I'm relieved that she's talking, but not like this - no.
No!
Tears begin to ooze down my cheeks, and suddenly it is too much to see her in the same prostrate position as the pathetic creature that was Lucy. The image of a powerful woman who's really still a little girl, who was horrifically abused and neglected, who feels unworthy of love from her perfect family and her much-less-than perfect girlfriend... my lost girl... it's heartbreaking.
Compassion, loss, and despair all swell in my heart, and I feel a choking sense of desperation. I am going to have to fight to bring her back, to bring back my Fifty.
The thought of me dominating anyone is appalling. The thought of dominating Lauren is nauseating. It would make me like Naomi the woman who did this to her.
I shudder at that thought, fighting the lump in my throat. No way can I do that. No way do I want that.
As my thoughts clear, I can see only one way. Not taking my eyes off her, I sink to my knees in front of her.
The wooden floor is hard against my shins, and I dash my tears away roughly with the back of my hand.
Like this, we are equals. We're on a level. This is the only way I'm going to retrieve her. Her eyes widen fractionally as I stare at her, but beyond that her expression and stance don't change.
"Lauren, you don't have to do this," I plead. "I'm not going to run. I've told you and told you and told you, I won't run. All that's happened... it's overwhelming. I just need some time to think... some time to myself. Why do you always assume the worst?" My heart clenches again because I know; it's because she's so doubting, so full of self-loathing.
Naomi's words come back to haunt me. "Does she know how negative you are about yourself? About all your issues?"
Oh, Lauren. Fear grips my heart once more and I start babbling, "I was going to suggest going back to my apartment this evening. You never give me any time... time to just think things through," I sob, and a ghost of a frown crosses her face. "Just time to think. We barely know each other, and all this baggage that comes with you... I need... I need time to think it through. And now that Lucy is... well, whatever she is... she's off the streets and not a threat... I thought... I thought..." My voice trails off and I stare at her. She regards me intently and I think she's listening
"Seeing you with Lucy..." I close my eyes as the painful memory of his interaction with his ex-sub gnaws at me anew. "It was such a shock. It was scary Lauren. I had a glimpse into how your life has been... and..." I gaze down at my knotted fingers, tears still running down my cheeks. "This is about me not being good enough for you. It was an insight into your life, and I am so scared you'll get bored with me, and then you'll go... and I'll end up like Lucy... a shadow. Because I love you, Lauren, and if you leave me, it will be like a world without light. I'll be in darkness. I don't want to run. I'm just so frightened you'll leave me..."
I realize as I say these words to her - in the hope that she's listening - what my real problem is. I just don't get why she likes me. I have never understood why she likes me.
"I don't understand why you find me attractive," I murmur. "You're, well, you're you... and I'm..." I shrug and gaze at her. "I just don't see it. You're beautiful and sexy and successful and good and kind and caring - all those things - and I'm not. And I can't do the things you like to do. I can't give you what you need. How could you be happy with me? How can I possibly hold you?" My voice is a whisper as I express my darkest fears. "I have never understood what you see in me. And seeing you with her, it brought all that home." I sniff and wipe my nose with the back of my hand, gazing at her impassive expression.
Oh, she's so exasperating. Talk to me, damn it!
"Are you going to kneel here all night? Because I'll do it, too," I snap at her.
I think her expression softens - maybe she looks vaguely amused. But it's so hard to tell.
I could reach across and touch her, but this would be a gross abuse of the position she's put me in. I don't want that, but I don't know what she wants, or what she's trying to say to me. I just don't understand.
"Lauren, please, please... talk to me," I beg her, wringing my hands in my lap.
I am uncomfortable on my knees, but I continue to kneel, staring into her serious, beautiful, green eyes, and I wait.
And wait.
And wait.
"Please," I beg once more, my lip quivering.
Her intense gaze darkens suddenly and she blinks.
"I was so scared," she whispers.
Oh, thank the Lord! Inside, my inner Mani staggers back into her armchair, sagging with relief, and takes a large swig of gin.
She's talking! Happiness fills me, and I swallow, trying to contain my emotion and the fresh bout of tears that threatens.
Her voice is soft and low. "When I heard that gunshot my life flashed before my eyes. Both Tony and I leapt out of the car. We knew and to see her there like that with you - and armed. I think I died a thousand deaths, Mani. Someone threatening you... all my worst fears realized. I was so angry, with her, with you, with Tony, with myself."
She shakes her head revealing her agony. "I didn't know how volatile she would be. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how she'd react." She stops and frowns. "And then she gave me a clue; she looked so contrite. And I just knew what I had to do." She pauses, gazing at me, trying to gauge my reaction. "Mani, I wasn't trying to hurt you. I wasn't. I just..." her voice cracks and I am in shambles.
"Go on," I whisper, through my crying voice.
She swallows. "Seeing her in that state, knowing that I might have something to do with her mental breakdown..." She closes her eyes once more. "She was always so mischievous and lively." She shudders and takes a rasping breath, almost like a sob. This is torture to listen to, but I kneel, attentive, lapping up this insight.
"She might have harmed you. And it would have been my fault." Her eyes drift off, filled with tears and uncomprehending horror, and she's silent once more.
"But she didn't," I whisper. "And you weren't responsible for her being in that state, Lauren." I blink at her, encouraging her to continue.
Then it dawns on me afresh that everything he did was to keep me safe, and perhaps Lucy, too, because she also cares for Lucy. But how much does she care for her? The question lingers in my head, unwelcome. She says she loves me, but then she was so harsh, throwing me out of my own apartment.
"I just wanted you gone," she murmurs, with her uncanny ability to read my thoughts. "I didn't want you there. I did want you to see. I didn't want you hurt"
"I wanted you away from the danger, and... You. Just. Wouldn't. Go," she hisses through clenched teeth and shakes her head. Her exasperation is evident.
She gazes at me intently. "Normani Kordei Hamilton, you are the most stubborn woman I know."
She closes her eyes and shakes her head once more in disbelief.
Oh, she's back. I breathe a long, cleansing sigh of relief.
She opens her eyes again, and her expression is sincere. "You weren't going to run?" She asks.
"No! "
She closes her eyes again and sighs through her nose as her whole body relaxes. When she opens her eyes, I can see her pain and anguish.
"I thought - " She stops and runs a hand through her hair. "This is me, Mani. All of me... and I'm all yours. What do I have to do to make you realize that? To make you see that I want you any way I can get you. That I love you."
"I love you, too, Lauren, and to see you like this is..." I choke and my tears start again. "I thought I'd broken you."
"Broken? Me? Oh no, Mani. Just the opposite." She reaches out and takes my hand.
"You're my lifeline," she whispers, and she kisses my knuckles before pressing my palm against hers. We hold our hands against each others like the scene in Tarzan, and we stare. My palm placed perfectly against hers. The contrast of our skin that fits so perfectly together. Oh my. Through the blur of my tears I see her eyes staring at our hands and they widen as if she's just thought of something.
She grabs my wrist and with her eyes wide and full of fear, she gently tugs my hand and places it inside of of shirt that the open buttons allow over her chest, over her heart - in the forbidden zone.
Oh my god.
Her breathing quickens. Her heart is beating a frantic, pounding viciously beneath my fingers. She doesn't take her eyes off mine; her jaw is tense, her teeth clenched.
I gasp.
Oh my Fifty!
Shes letting me touch her. And it's like all the air in my lungs has vaporized - gone. The blood is pounding in my ears as the rhythm of my heart rises to match hers.
She releases my hand, leaving it in place over her heart. I flex my fingers slightly, feeling the warmth of her skin. She's holding her breath, looking beyond pained. I can't bear it. I make to move my hand.
"No," she says quickly and places her hand once more over mine, pressing my fingers against her. "Don't."
Emboldened by these two words, I shuffle closer so our knees are touching and tentatively raise my other hand so that she knows exactly what I intend to do. Her eyes grow wider but she doesn't stop me.
Gently I start to undo the rest of the buttons on her shirt. It's tricky with one hand. I flex my fingers beneath her hand and she lets go, allowing me to use both hands to undo her shirt. My eyes don't leave her as I pull her shirt open, revealing her chest. I reach around and undo her bra claps, sliding it slowly down her arms. Oh my... her breasts are so perfect.
She swallows, and her lips part as her breathing increases, and I sense her rising panic, but she doesn't pull away. Is she still in sub mode? I have no idea.
Should I do this?
I don't want to hurt her, physically or mentally. The sight of her like this, offering herself to me, has been a wake-up call.
I reach up, and my hand hovers over her chest, and I stare at her... asking her permission. Very subtly she tilts her head to one side, steeling herself in anticipation of my touch, and the tension radiates from her, but this time it's not in anger - it's in fear.
I hesitate. Can I really do this to her?
"Yes," she breathes - again with the weird ability to answer my unspoken questions.
I extend my fingertips into her chest and lightly brush them down the bath between them. She closes her eyes, and her face creases as if she's experiencing intolerable pain. It's unbearable to witness, so I lift my fingers immediately, but she quickly grabs my hand and replaces it firmly, flat on her bare chest.
"No," she says, her voice strained. "I need to."
Her eyes are screwed up so tightly. This must be agony. It's truly tormenting to watch.
Carefully I let my fingers stroke across her chest over to her left breast to feel her heart, marveling at the feel of her, terrified that this is a step too far.
She opens her eyes, and they are green fire, blazing at me.
Holy cow.
Her look is blistering, scarring, beyond intense, and her breathing is rapid. It stirs my blood. I squirm under her gaze.
She hasn't stopped me, so I run my fingertips across her chest again and lift my other hand in the process. I cup both of her breasts in my hand and her mouth goes slack.
She's panting, and I don't know if it's from fear, or something else.
I've wanted to kiss her there for so long, I've wanted my lips all over them, loving on them that I lean up on my knees and hold her gaze for a moment, making my intention perfectly clear. Then I bend and gently plant a soft kiss above her heart, feeling her warm, sweet-smelling skin beneath my lips. She's smells insanely good, and my lips tingle.
Her strangled groan moves me so much that I sit back on my heels, fearful of what I'll see on her face. Her eyes are screwed tightly shut, but she hasn't moved.
"Again," she whispers, and I lean into her breasts once more, this time to kiss one of her scars. She gasps, and I kiss another and another. I kiss more and more, losing track of scars but just loving on her skin. I open my mouth slightly hovering my lips over one of her nipples, my eyes look up to her and her head is back, her chest heaving.
I latch my mouth around her nipple sucking gently as my other hand gently rubs over the skin over her other breasts.
I lean forward more guiding her to lay her back against the ground with out disconnecting my lips and she does just that. My hands land on either sides of her body as I kiss, lick and suck all over her precious breasts. My tongue swirls around her nipple over and over and by me lying flat against her I feel her bulge pushing into my center. Jesus Christ.
She groans loudly lifting us up, and suddenly her arms are around me, and her hand is in my hair, pulling my head up painfully so that my lips meet her insistent mouth. And we're kissing, my fingers knotting into her hair.
"Oh, Mani" she breathes, and she twists and pulls me down on to the floor so that I am underneath her. I bring my hands up to cup her beautiful face, and in that moment, I feel her tears.
She begins to sob, with her eyes shut tight and her lips tucked. Clearly pained.
She's crying... no. No!
"Lauren, please, don't cry. I meant it when I said I'd never leave you. I did. If I gave you any other impression, I'm so sorry... please, please forgive me. I love you. I will always love you."
She hovers over me, gazing down into my face, and her expression is so pained.
"What is it?"
Her eyes grow larger.
"What is this secret that makes you think I'll run for the hills? That makes you so determined to believe I'll go?" I plead, my voice tremulous. "Tell me, Lauren, please... "
She sits up, though this time she crosses her legs and I follow suit, my legs outstretched. Her hands reach up to wipe the fallen tears and it's like she can't even bare to look at me.
Vaguely I wonder if we can get off the floor? But I don't want to interrupt her train of thought. She's finally going to confide in me.
She gazes down at me, and she looks utterly desolate.
Oh shit - it's bad.
"Mani..." She pauses, searching for the words, her expression pained...
Oh? Where the hell is this going?
She takes a deep breath and swallows. "I'm a sadist, Mani. I like to whip little brown-haired girls like Lucy and all others before you because they all look like the crack whore - my birth mother. I'm sure you can guess why." She says it in a rush as if she's had the sentence in her head for days and days and is desperate to be rid of it.
My world stops. Oh no.
This is not what I expected. This is bad. Really bad. I gaze at her, trying to understand the implication of what she's just said.
She lied to me.
It's crazy at first I was fearing that they all looked like me, all black, and this was some crazy fetish in that way. But no, before me they all looked like her bother and she liked to beat the shit out of them for that reason.
Why me now?
Is this the only reason why she's been able to break the rules for me? Because I look nothing like them? Because I look like... naomi?
I don't know what to fucking think.
My immediate thought is that Lucy was right - "Master is dark. "
I recall the first conversation I had with her about her tendencies when we were in the Red Room of Pain.
"You said you weren't a sadist," I whisper, desperately trying to understand... make some excuse for her.
"No, I said I was a Dominant. If I lied to you, it was a lie of omission. I'm sorry." She looks briefly down at her manicured fingernails.
I think she's mortified. Mortified about lying to me? Or about what she is?
"When you asked me that question, I had envisioned a very different relationship between us," she murmurs. I can tell by her gaze that she's terrified.
Then it hits me like a wrecking ball. If she's a sadist, she really needs all that whipping and caning shit.
Oh fuck. I put my head in my hands.
Don't cry Normani. Don't cry.
"So it's true," I whisper, glancing at her. "I can't give you what you need." This is it - this really does mean we are incompatible.
The world starts falling away at my feet, collapsing around me as panic grips my throat. This is it. We can't do this.
She frowns. "No, No, No. Mani. No. You can. You do give me what I need." She clenches her fists. "Please believe me," she murmurs, her words an impassioned plea.
"I don't know what to believe, Lauren. This is so fucked-up," I whisper, my throat hoarse and aching as it closes in, choking me with unshed tears.
Her eyes are wide and luminous when she looks at me again.
"Mani, believe me. After I punished you and you left me, my worldview changed. I wasn't joking when I said I would avoid ever feeling like that again." She gazes at me with pained eyes. "When you said you loved me, it was a revelation. No one's ever said it to me before, and it was as if I'd laid something to rest - or maybe you'd laid it to rest, I don't know. Dr. Gomez and I are still in deep discussion about it."
Oh. Hope flares briefly in my heart. Perhaps we'll be okay. I want us to be okay. Don't I?
"What does that all mean?" I whisper.
"It means I don't need it. Not now."
What?
"How do you know? How can you be so sure?"
"I just know. The thought of hurting you... in any real way... it's distasteful to me."
"I don't understand. What about rulers and spanking and all that kinky fuckery?"
She runs a hand through her hair and almost smiles but instead sighs ruefully. "I'm talking about the heavy shit, Normani. You should see what I can do with a cane or a cat."
My mouth drops open, stunned. "I'd rather not."
"I know. If you wanted to do that, then fine... but you don't and I get it. I can't do all that shit with you if you don't want to. I told you once before, you have all the power. And now, since you came back, I don't feel that compulsion, at all."
I gape at her for a moment trying to take this all in. "When we met, that's what you wanted, though?"
"Yes, undoubtedly."
"Why me? I'm not even like them? It just doesn't make sense. And how can your compulsion just go, Lauren? Like I'm some kind of panacea, and you're - for want of a better word - cured? I don't get it."
She sighs once more. "I wouldn't say cured... You don't believe me?"
"I just find it - unbelievable. Which is different."
"If you'd never left me, then I probably wouldn't feel this way. You walking out on me was the best thing you ever did... for us. It made me realize how much I want you, just you, and I mean it when I say I'll take you any way I can have you. Absence makes the heart grow fonder and Normani I fucking need you. There's no question about it. It's my absolute truth"
I gaze at her. Can I believe this? My head hurts just trying to think this all through, and deep down I feel... numb.
"You're still here. I thought you would be out of the door by now," she whispers.
"Why? Because I might think you're a sicko for whipping and fucking women who look like your mother? Whatever would give you that impression?" I hiss at her, lashing out. She blanches at my harsh words.
"Well, I wouldn't have put it quite like that, but yes," she says, her eyes wide and hurt.
Her expression is sobering and I regret my outburst. I frown, feeling a pang of guilt.
Oh, what am I going to do? I gaze at her and she sincere... she looks like my Fifty.
And unbidden I recall the photograph in her childhood bedroom, and in that moment realize why the woman in it looked so familiar. She looked like her. She must have been her biological mother.
Her easy dismissal of her comes to mind: No one of consequence... She's responsible for all this... Fuck!
She stares at me, eyes raw, and I know she's waiting for my next move. She seems genuine. She's said she loves me, but I'm really confused.
This is all so fucked-up. She's reassured me about Lucy, but now I know with more certainty than ever how she was able to give her her kicks. The thought is wearying and scary. I am so tired of all this.
"Lauren, I'm exhausted. Can we discuss this tomorrow? I want to go to bed."
She blinks at me in surprise. "You're not going?"
"Do you want me to go?"
"No! I thought you would leave once you knew."
All the times she's alluded to me leaving once I knew her darkest secrets flash through my mind... and now I know.
Shit.
Master is dark.
And I'm still here.
Normani is stupid.
Should I leave? I gaze at her, this crazy woman that I love, yes love.
Can I leave her? I left her once before, and it nearly broke me... and her. I love her.
I know that in spite of this revelation.
"Don't leave me," she whispers.
"Oh, for fucks sake- no! I am not going to go!" I shout and it's loud.
There, I've said it. I am not leaving.
"Really?" Her eyes widen.
"What can I do to make you understand I will not run? What can I say?"
She quickly grabs my face and pulls me into an all consuming kiss and I felt against her touch. My baby, my poor fucked up baby. How did she fall in love with me and I her? How did this happen?
"I love you, baby" murmurs cupping my face, her eyes roaming it.
"I love you baby" I grin and she twists her lips.
"Baby? I like it"
"Me too," I giggle.
She sighs at the sounds and kisses me again over and over, before pulling away slightly to brush her nose back and forth against mine "I'm so in love with you woman," she whispers "So deeply in love with you Mani."
"I know,"
She pulls away with a small smile "are you hungry?"
"Yes."
"You didn't eat." Her eyes frost and her jaw hardens.
For fucks sake.
"No, I didn't eat." I sit back on my heels and regard her passively. "Being thrown out of my apartment after witnessing my girlfriend interacting intimately with her ex-submissive considerably suppressed my appetite." I glare at her and fist my hands on my hips.
Lauren shakes her head and rises gracefully to her feet . Oh, finally we can get off the floor. My god damn knees hurt.
She holds her hand out to me. "Come baby. Let me fix you something to eat," she says.
Lauren cooking for me?
"Can't I just go to bed?" I mutter wearily as I place my hand in hers.
She pulls me up. I am stiff. She gazes at me, her expression soft.
"No, you need to eat. Come." Bossy Lauren is back, and it's a relief.
She leads me to the kitchen area and ushers me toward a bar stool as she heads to the fridge. I glance at my watch. Jeez, nearly three in the morning and I have to get up for work in the morning.
"Lauren, I'm really not hungry."
She studiously ignores me as she rumbles through the enormous fridge. "Cheese?" She asks.
I remember my first night her when she was trying to shove cheese down my damn throats and then threatened to shove her dick down. This woman. I shake my head.
"Not right now."
"Pretzels?"
"In the fridge? No," I snap.
She turns and grins at me. "You don't like pretzels?"
"Not at three in the morning. Lauren, I'm going to bed. You can rummage around in your refrigerator for the rest of the night if you want. I'm tired, and I've had far too interesting a day. A day I'd like to forget." I slide off the stool and she scowls at me, but right now I don't care. I want to go to bed - I'm exhausted.
"Macaroni and cheese?" She holds up a white bowl lidded with foil. She looks so hopeful and endearing.
"You like macaroni and cheese?" I ask.
She nods enthusiastically, and my heart melts. She looks so young all of a sudden. Who would have thought? Lauren jauregui likes real fucking food.
"You want some?" She asks, sounding hopeful and cute. I can't resist her and I'm hungry.
I nod and give her a weak smile. Her answering grin is breathtaking. She takes the foil off the bowl and pops it into the microwave. This is her way of cooking for me? How adorable.
Her eyes roam it and her pointer finger twirling around trying to find the button. "Okay soo...." her voice trails off confused "Which one to press"
"Oh for fucks sake Lauren" I groan hopping off of the stool "Move, move over." I mush her and she giggles as I start the microwave up.
I playfully scold her "You know, to be so smart and rich you're one dumb mother fucker"
She brings her hand up to her chest, fake appalled "Ouch"
I poke her nose and head back to the stool "You should have it from here"
I perch back on the stool and watch the beauty that is Miss Lauren Jauregui - the woman who wants to marry me move gracefully and with ease around her kitchen. Doing much of nothing may I add, but it's still adorable.
I cannot believe this is the same woman who was on her knees in front of me not half an hour before. She's her usual mercurial self. She sets out plates, cutlery, and placemats on the breakfast bar.
"It's very late," I mutter.
"Don't go to work tomorrow."
"I have to go to work tomorrow. I'm supposed to be going to Newyork with Victoria."
Lauren frowns. "Go with me Mani, don't go with her. Do you want to go there this weekend?"
"Lauren..." I murmur.
"Mani, please" she begs "I don't trust her. Just go with me if you want to go. We can go this weekend"
I sigh "I checked the weather forecast, and it looks like rain," I say, shaking my head.
"Oh, so what do you want to do?"
The microwave's ping announces that our food is warmed through.
"I just want to get through one day at a time at the moment. All this excitement is... tiring." I raise an eyebrow at her, which she judiciously ignores.
Lauren places the white bowl in between our place settings and takes her seat beside me. She looks deep in thought, distracted. I dish the macaroni onto our plates. It smells divine, and my mouth waters in anticipation. I am starving.
"You reallllllly don't want me to go?" I groan.
"No, no I do not"
"But you see... if I don't go what do I have a say in? I can't even make my own decisions" I frown.
"I won't control you mani. I promise. It's just this... trust me on it please"
I sigh glancing at her "I'll talk to Victoria"
She nods and I know she doesn't want to push it. She glances at me "Sorry about Lucy," she murmurs.
"Why are you sorry?" I question with a full mouth.
Mmm, the macaroni tastes as good as it smells. My stomach grumbles gratefully.
"It must have been a terrible shock for you, finding her in your apartment. Tony swept it earlier himself. She's very upset."
"I don't blame Tony."
"Neither do I. He's been out looking for you."
"Really? Why?"
"I didn't know where you were. You left your purse, your phone. I couldn't even track you. Where did you go?" She asks. Her voice is soft, but there's an ominous undercurrent to her words.
"Keith and I just went to a bar across the street. So I could watch what was happening."
"I see." The atmosphere between us has changed subtly. It's no longer light.
Okay, well... two can play that game. Let's just bring this back to you, Fifty. Trying to sound nonchalant, wanting to assuage my burning curiosity but dreading the answer, I ask,
"So what did you do with Lucy in the apartment?"
I glance at her, and she freezes with her forkful of macaroni suspended in midair.
Oh no, that's not good.
"You really want to know?"
A knot tightens in my gut and my appetite vanishes. "Yes," I whisper.
Do you? Do you really? My subconscious has thrown her empty bottle of gin on the floor and is sitting up in her armchair, glaring at me in horror.
Lauren's mouth flattens into a line, and she hesitates. "I fucked her"
"WHAT?!"
"Mani.." she says calmly.
"Don't Mani me! Lauren are you serious right now?!"
Her lips twist into a smile "No, not at all. Not serious at all Mani"
I sigh loudly and exasperated placing my fork down "Jesus fucking Christ Lauren. Don't play"
She takes a breath getting serious again "We talked, and I gave her a bath." Her voice is hoarse, and she continues quickly when I make no response. "And I dressed her in some of your clothes. I hope you don't mind. But she was filthy."
Holy fuck. She bathed her?
What an inappropriate thing to do. I'm reeling, staring down at my uneaten macaroni.
The sight of it now makes me nauseous.
Try to rationalize this, my inner sub coaches. That cool, intellectual part of my brain knows that she just did that because she was dirty, but it's too hard. My fragile jealous self can't bear it.
Suddenly I want to cry - not succumb to ladylike tears that trickle down my cheeks, but howling at the moon crying. I take a deep breath to suppress the urge, but my throat is arid and uncomfortable from my unshed tears and sobs.
She said the fuck thing to wound me up for the real news. Smart woman.
"It was all I could do, Mani," she says softly.
"You still have feelings for her?"
"No!" She says, appalled, and closes her eyes, her expression one of anguish. I turn away, staring once more at my nauseating food. I can't bear to look at her.
"To see her like that - so different, so broken. I care about her, one human being to another. She shrugs as if to shake off an unpleasant memory. Jeez, is she expecting my sympathy?
"Mani, look at me."
I can't. I know that if I do, I will burst into tears. This is just too much to absorb. I'm like an overflowing tank of gasoline - full, beyond capacity. There is no room for any more. I simply cannot cope with any more crap. I will combust and explode, and it will be ugly if I try. Jeez!
Lauren caring for her ex-sub in such an intimate fashion - the image flashes through my brain. Bathing her, for fuck's sake - naked. A harsh, painful shudder wracks my body.
"Mani."
"What? Lauren what?"
"Don't. It doesn't mean anything. It was like caring for a child, a broken, shattered child," she mutters.
What the hell would she know about caring for a child? This was a woman she had a very full-on, deviant sexual relationship with.
Oh, this hurts. I take a deep, steadying breath. Or perhaps she's referring to herself.
She's the broken child. That makes more sense... or maybe it makes no sense at all. Oh, this is so fucked-up, and suddenly I'm bone crushingly tired. I need sleep.
"Mani?"
I stand, take my plate to the sink, and scrape the contents into the trash.
"Mani, please."
I whirl around and face her "Just stop, Lauren! Just stop with the 'Mani, please' shit! I can't even go to a show in NewYork with my friends who I have NO feelings for but you're bathing dirty bitches you used to fuck?" I shout at her, and my tears start to trickle down my face. "I've had enough of all this shit today. I am going to bed. I am tired and emotional. Now let me be."
I turn on my heel and practically storm to the bedroom, taking with me the memory of her wide-eyed, shocked stare. Nice to know I can shock her, too. I strip out of my clothes in double-quick time, and after rifling through her drawer, drag on one of her T-shirts and head for the bathroom.
I gaze at myself in the mirror, hardly recognizing the tired, pink-eyed, woman staring back at me, and it's too much. I sink to the floor and surrender to the overwhelming emotion I can no longer contain, sobbing huge chest-wrenching sobs, finally letting my tears flow unrestrained.
"Hey," Lauren says as she walks into the bathroom. She gently pulls me into her arms, "please don't cry, Mani, please," she begs.
She's on the bathroom floor, and I am in her lap. I put my arms around her and weep into her neck. Cooing softly into my hair, she gently strokes my back, my head.
"I'm sorry, baby," she whispers, and that makes me cry harder and hug her tighter.
We sit like this forever. Eventually, when I'm all cried out, Lauren staggers to her feet, holding me, and carries me into her room where she lays me down in the bed. She struggles about, but manages. In a few moments, she's beside me and the lights are off. She pulls me into her arms, hugging me tightly, and I finally drift off into a dark and troubled sleep.
I awake with a jolt. My head is fuzzy and I'm too warm. Lauren is wrapped around me like a vine. Her legs in mine, her arms around me like she never wants to let go. She grumbles in her sleep as I slip out of her arms, but she doesn't wake. Sitting up I glance at the alarm clock. It's five in the morning. I need an Advil and a drink. I swing my legs out of bed and make my way to the kitchen in the great room.
In the fridge, I find a carton of orange juice and pour myself a glass. Hmm... it's delicious, and my fuzzy head eases immediately. I hunt through the cupboards looking for some painkillers and eventually come across a plastic box full of meds. I sink two Advil and pour myself another orange juice.
Wandering to the great wall of glass, I look out on a sleeping Florida. The lights twinkle and wink beneath Laurens castle in the sky, or should I say fortress? I press my forehead against the cool window - it's a relief. I have so much to think about after all the revelations of yesterday. I place my back against the glass and slide down onto the floor. The living room is cavernous in the dark, the only light coming from the three lamps above the kitchen island.
My mind wonders for so long thinking about her, thinking about me, thinking about us. Could I live with her? Could we be together? What am I doing?
Jesus I love her.
"AGHHHHHH!"
The peaceful tranquility is shattered by a painful, loud cry that makes every single hair on my body stand to attention.
Lauren!
Holy fuck!
What's happened?
I am on my feet, running back to the bedroom before the echoes of that horrible sound have died away, my heart thumping with fear.
I flip one of the light switches, and Lauren's bedside light comes on. She's tossing and turning, writhing in agony.
No!
He cries out again, and the eerie, devastating sound lances through me anew.
Oh my god.
Shit! A nightmare.
"Lauren!" I lean over her, grab her shoulders, and shake her awake.
She screams more and more with her face pained!
"Lauren! Wake up baby"
She opens her eyes, and they are wild and vacant, scanning quickly round the empty room before coming back to rest on me.
"You left, you left, you must have left," she mumbles - her wide-eyed stare becoming accusatory - and she looks so lost, it wrenches at my heart. Poor Fifty.
"I'm here." I sit down on the bed beside her "I'm here," I murmur softly in an effort to reassure her. I reach out to place my palm on the side of her face, trying to soothe her.
"You were gone," she whispers rapidly. Her eyes are still wild and frightened, but she seems to be calming.
"I went to get a drink. I was thirsty."
She closes her eyes and rubs her face. When she opens them again, she looks so desolate.
"You're here. Oh, thank God." She reaches for me, and grabbing me tightly, she pulls me down on the bed beside her and kisses me.
"I just went for a drink," I murmur against her lips.
Oh, the intensity of her fear... I can feel it. Her tank top is drenched in sweat, and her heartbeat is pounding as she hugs me close. She's gazing at me as if reassuring herself that I am really here. I gently stroke her hair and then her cheek.
"Lauren, please. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere," I say soothingly.
"Oh, Mani," she breathes.
She grasps my chin to hold me in place, and then her mouth is on mine. Desire sweeps through her, and unbidden my body responds - it's so tied and attuned to her. Her lips are at my ear, my throat, then back at my mouth, her teeth gently pulling at my lower lip, her hand traveling up my body from my hip to my breast, dragging my T-shirt up. Caressing me, feeling her way through the dips and shallows of my skin, she elicits the same familiar reaction, her touch sending shivers through me. I moan as her hand cups my breast and her fingers tighten over my nipple.
"I want you," she murmurs.
"I'm here for you. Only you, Lauren."
She groans and kisses me once more, passionately, with a fervor and desperation I've not felt from her before. Grabbing the hem of her shirt, I tug and she helps me pull it off over her head. Kneeling between my legs, she hastily pulls me upright and drags my T-shirt off. Her eyes are serious, wanting, full of dark secrets - exposed.
She folds her hands around my face and kisses me, and we sink down into the bed once more, her thigh between both of mine so that she's half-lying on top of me. Her erection is rigid against my hip through her underwear. She wants me, but her words from earlier choose this moment to come back and haunt me, what she said about his mother.
Fuck. I can't do this. Not now.
"Lauren... Stop. I can't do this," I whisper urgently against her mouth, my hands pushing on her upper arms.
"What? What's wrong?" She murmurs and starts kissing my neck, running the tip of her tongue lightly down my throat.
Oh...
Shit....
"No, please. I can't do this, not now. I need some time, please."
"Oh, Mani, don't overthink this," she whispers as she nips my earlobe.
"Ah!" I gasp, feeling it in my groin, and my body bows, betraying me. This is so confusing.
"I am just the same, Mani. I love you and I need you. Touch me. Please." She rubs her nose against mine, and her quiet heartfelt plea moves me and I melt.
Touch her. Touch her while we make love. Oh my.
She rears up over me, gazing down, and in the half-light from the dimmed bedside light, I can tell that she's waiting, waiting for my decision, and she's caught in my spell.
I reach up and tentatively place my hand over her breast. She gasps and scrunches her eyes closed as if in pain, but I don't take my hand away this time.
I move it up to her shoulders, feeling the tremor run through her. She groans, and I pull her down to me and place both my hands on her back, where I've never touched her before, on her shoulder blades, holding her to me. Her strangled moan arouses me like nothing else.
She buries her head in my neck, kissing and sucking and biting me, before trailing her nose up my chin and kissing me, her tongue possessing my mouth, her hands moving over my body once more. Her lips move down... down... down to my breasts, worshipping as they go, and my hands stay on her shoulders and her back, enjoying the feeling of her skin still damp from her nightmare. Her lips close over my nipple, pulling and tugging, so that it rises to greet her glorious skilled mouth.
I groan and run my fingernails across her back. And she gasps, a strangled moan.
"Oh, fuck, Mani," she chokes, and it's half cry, half groan.
It tears at my heart, but also deep inside me, tightening all the muscles below my waist. Oh, what I can do to her! My inner Mani is writhing with want and I'm panting now, matching her tortured breaths with my own.
Her hand travels south, over my belly, down to my sex - and her fingers are on me circling slowly and then in me. I groan as she moves her fingers around inside me, in that way, and I push my pelvis up to welcome her touch.
"Mani," she breathes.
She suddenly releases me and sits up; she removes her boxer briefs and leans over to the bedside table to grab a foil packet. Herveyes are a blazing green as she passes me the condom. "You want to do this? You can still say no. You can always say no," she whispers.
"Don't give me a chance to think, Lauren. I want you, too." I rip the packet open with my teeth as she kneels between my legs, and with trembling fingers I slide it on to her.
"Steady," she says with a gasp at my aggressiveness.
I marvel at what I can do to this woman with my touch. She stretches out over me, and for now my doubts are pushed down and locked away in the dark, scary depths at the back of my mind. I'm intoxicated with this woman, my woman, my Fifty Shades. She shifts suddenly, completely taking me by surprise, so I am on top. Whoa.
"You - take me," she murmurs, her eyes glowing with a feral intensity "Fuck me mani"
Oh my, and slowly, oh-so-slowly, I sink down on to her. She tilts her head back and closes her eyes as she groans. I grab her hands and start to move, reveling in the fullness of my possession, reveling in her reaction, watching her unravel beneath me.
I feel like a goddess. I lean down and kiss her chin, running my teeth along her jaw. She tastes delicious. She clasps my hips and steadies my rhythm, slow and easy.
"Mani, touch me... please."
Oh. I lean forward and steady myself with my hands on her chest. My hands massage and kneed over her breasts. And she calls out, her cry almost a sob, and she thrusts deep inside me.
"Ahh," I whimper high pitched and run my fingernails gently over her breasts through, and she groans loudly and twists abruptly so I am once more beneath her.
"Enough." She moans. "No more, please." And it's a heartfelt plea.
Reaching up, I clasp her face in my hands, feeling the dampness on her cheeks, and pull her down to my lips so that I can kiss her. I curl my hands around her back.
She groans deep and low in her throat as she moves inside me, pushing me onward and upward, but I can't find my release. My head is too cloudy, cloudy with issues. I am too wrapped up in her.
"Let go, Mani ," she urges me.
"No."
"Yes," she snarls. She shifts slightly and gyrates her hips, again and again.
"Oh fffffuck" I squeal
Jeez... agh!
"Come on baby, I need this. Give it to me."
And I explode, and wrap myself around her, clinging to her like a vine as she cries out my name, and climaxes with me, then collapses, her full weight pressing me into the mattress.
I cradle Lauren in my arms, her head on my chest, as we lie in the afterglow of our lovemaking. I run my fingers through her hair as I listen to her breathing return to normal.
"Don't ever leave me," she whispers, and I roll my eyes in the full knowledge that she can't see me.
"I know you're rolling your eyes at me," she murmurs, and I hear the trace of humor in her voice.
"You know me well," I murmur.
"I'd like to know you better."
"Back at you, Jauregui. What was your nightmare about?"
"The usual."
"Tell me."
She swallows and tenses before she sighs, a long drawn-out sigh. "I must be about three, and the crack whore's pimp is mad as hell again. He smokes and smokes, one cigarette after another, and he can't find an ashtray." She stops, and I freeze as a creeping chill grips my heart.
"It hurt," she says, "It's the pain I remember. That's what gives me nightmares. That and the fact that she did nothing to stop him."
Oh no. This is unbearable. I tighten my grip around her, my legs and arms holding her to me, and I try not to let my despair choke me. How could anyone treat a child like that?
She raises her head and pins me with her intense green gaze.
"Sometimes in the dreams she's just lying on the floor. And I think she's asleep. But she doesn't move. She never moves. And I'm hungry. Really hungry."
Oh fuck.
"There's a loud noise and he's back, and he hits me so hard, cursing the crack whore. His first reaction was always to use his fists or his belt. He used to take a huge knife and hold it by my neck, he'd say if I moved or breathed he'd kill me. It was a game to him"
"Is that why you don't like to be touched?"
She closes her eyes and hugs me tighter. "That's complicated," she murmurs. She nuzzles me between my breasts, inhaling deeply, trying to distract me.
"Tell me," I prompt.
She sighs. "She didn't love me. I didn't love me. The only touch I knew was... harsh. It stemmed from there. Gomez explains it better than I can."
"Can I see Gomez?"
She raises her head to look at me. "Fifty Shades rubbing off on you?"
"And then some. I like how it's rubbing off at the moment." I wriggle provocatively underneath her and she smiles.
"Yes, Miss Hamilton, I like that, too." She leans up and kisses me. She gazes at me for a moment. "You are so precious to me, Mani."
"You're precious Lauren"
Let's sleep baby" she murmurs and buries her head into my neck.
I can tell she's completely worn because I'm just a few moments I hear her light snoring but I can't sleep, my eyes are shut just listening to the sounds of my baby.
After about forty minutes I am beyond hot. I try to shuffle over and from under her and immediately she pops up in a panic.
"Mani!" She yells.
"I'm here Lauren. I'm not leaving"
She sighs a deep, deep breath and gazes at me after squeezing me tighter "Marry me?"
A/N:
Sorry for taking so long 🤷🏽♀️
I love you guys keep reading, voting and commenting 😘