08:
Pulse.
Two hearts. One touch.
Two bodies. One--
Pulse.
With a loud sigh he allows his hands to roam freely. He allows his fingers to trace every line of my perspired body; caressing every corner of me. I'm not used to being touched this way. I'm not used to this feeling. This feeling of wanting someone so wrongly. And then there's this feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach. The feeling you get when you realize there's something so wrong about this. Something so rightfully wrong.
I bite my lip in restraint when I feel his fingers squeeze my rear. My eyes are covered by the blindfold while my wrists are tied to the headboard. I try to relax but-
“You're still tense,”
My frigid muscles relax when I feel his fingertips massage my neck and shoulders. From there he slides them down until they're inches from my inner core. I feel my legs spread and then, I feel two fingers slide into me.
I pant heavily while gripping my restraints tighter. Why did I agree to this “experiment”? I'll never be prepared for Ian's sexual excursions.
“You know, I like this form of therapy so much better than that talking shit,”
His chuckle overpowers my low moans. I twist and writhe until his finger presses to my lips. With slow precision, he pulls my lower lip downward until he is satisfied.
“Suck,”
I'm supposed to stay silent. I'm supposed to obey but I can't do what he's asking. It's gross.
“No,” I swallow the heavy lump in my throat. My breathing has increased because his strong hand is holding my chin captive.
We remain still. Stricken by silence. The small abeyance that has overcrowded us makes me more restless than I already am. He's unpredictable. There's no telling what his next move will be.
“Please untie me,”
“Ava,” his chilling voice lingers, making my small hairs prick up. Without hesitance he continues,“The best part about love; the most satisfying feeling about the strong emotion we call love is not only learning how to love someone. But also learning that that person loves you too.”
“You know I love you and therefore I'd never hurt you,” A playful voice resonates in my ears. I don't know if he's fucking with me or not. All I know is his tone makes me more frightened than I already am.
“Love is pain babe, so when you're in pain so am I.”
“I just want to be untied,” My quivering lips press when he shushes me.
“Shhh babe, you'll learn to like it. You'll learn to love it.”
I feel his weight as he straddles me. I focus on my breathing, trying to wish away what's to come.
“In fact you'll love it so much you'll be begging me to fuck you,”
With his palms clamped between my cheeks, he greets my lips. It only lasts a second before I feel his tongue trace over my chest. Light and sensual are his movements and with every touch he makes, I'm ignited underneath. This intimacy is something I've been craving. Lustful desire some say but no, it's more than that. It's fateful passion. When Ian Hunt kisses me I feel my heart flutter and my knees grow weak. When my lips connect to his and our tongues dance around I feel invigorated. As if I'm kissing him for the first time. As if we're meant to be together.
Did I just think that?
I manage to moan out when I feel his erection press into me. Jolts of passionate sparks flow through me until I feel an aching pain on my wrists. He twists them with one hand, making me scream out.
“Always remember: Love may be pain, but your pain will always be my pleasure. I love you so much it hurts and I want you to feel it too,”
My eyes fly open while my chest continues panting frantically. Sitting up, I glance over the dark room. My startled brown eyes dart from my right- where the small fireplace lights up my side of the room- to my left, where the door is slightly ajar.
My feet hit the floor and before I know it I'm wiping the sleep from my eyes. A shiver runs through me so I head to the bathroom to get dressed. I'm wearing Ian's large shirt but I'm not comfortable in it. Too many haunting memories of him forcing me to wear his shirts instead of regular clothing.
Once I gather my articles of clothing I decide to shower. Which is probably the worst idea- besides my plans to seduce Ian- because while I'm washing, a flood of emotions overtakes me. Feeling slightly nauseated, I slide down the shower wall. As I cradle myself I try to force the horrible memories away. I try to forget about the brand on my left collarbone. I try to forget the horrific tattoo on my right side. The words are still engraved,
Ian, forever and always mine.
Tears stream down my cheeks as I trace over the ink tainting my skin and thoughts.
“What am I doing?”
I keep asking myself this and yet, I still don't have an acceptable answer. I mean how do I explain this to Danny? To my parents, even? What do I look like going back to the man who once destroyed me? Why did I just give Ian Hunt- the cynical bastard who murdered my friends and took my innocence- the night of his life? I really am mental.
Shaking my head, I finish bathing myself. Once I'm done, I brush my teeth, straighten my hair and lastly, apply my light makeup. I wear foundation, eyeliner, mascara, and some lip gloss. The only reason I'm covering my face this morning is to hide the small contusion on my chin. It's from last night when he gripped it too tightly. I knew what I was in for because I've been through this before. Ian always likes it rough.
Pulling my hair back, my sleeves chafe my wrists. I wince from the bruises before deciding to give up. My hair can stay down because my wrists hurt too much for me to lift them. It's worse than carpal tunnel.
“Look who's finally awake,”
Ian's cheerful voice forces me to turn to him.
“It's mommy!” Danny squeals excitedly.
I smile at him when he takes my hand. His small hand encircles my aching wrist, making me groan.
Ian gives me a sideways glance, warning me to keep quiet so I swallow the pain. I don't need Danny asking questions. He pulls me until we're in the room.
“Look what we give you! Foods!” He sings happily.
My eyes widen at the scene before me. I gawk at the plate of cantaloupe, oranges, strawberries, and grapes. There's a stack of pancakes in the center with whipped cream topping. Scrambled eggs decorate the outer side of the pancakes and the delicious, intoxicating smell makes my mouth water.
“Aren't we gonna eat it?”
I look to the source of the disappointed voice. Danny's face is contorted in a frown while his hand rubs his head. I think he's picked that up from Ian.
“Why all this?”
“Just 'cause.” Ian's secure arms wrap around my waist. He rests his chin on top of my head before adding,
“I'd hate to see all our hard work go to waste so you might want to eat it.”
#
After breakfast, we received a visitor. Turns out it was Mandy. She's here to babysit Danny because I refuse to leave him with Elaine.
Anyway, during our conversation Ian decided it would be best if I went upstairs to change. We have a couple's counseling appointment at three thirty and if I argue about my attire that will only make us late. And I know how he gets when it comes to punctuality.
“Just think how many assholes are going to stare at you if we go out in public,”
I nod my head, not really wanting to argue. This is what he does. He says things and keeps on going to try to get a rise out of me.
“If you would have just put on what I picked for you then we wouldn't be up here, waiting for you to change,” he sighs impatiently.
With the items in hand,- a pair of skinny jeans and a red sweater- I turn to him. He is currently standing in the doorway with folded arms and narrowed eyes. I notice his attire is subtly casual. His torso is covered in a collard, navy blue shirt while his bottoms consist of khakis. The gray, tweed jacket and navy blue Oxfords completes the ensemble. It doesn't scream wealth, it screams sensible.
“What were you saying?” he chuckles, a tight smirk mocking his lips. This forces me out of my admiring stare.
“It's not going to take me an hour to change. And I thought I could wear what I wanted,” I quip, clearly annoyed.
“You wear what you want around here but not around other people. Got it?”
There's something more in his tone. It's more than controlling. He makes me feel like I'm a scolded child.
“Ian, in case you haven't realized, I am twenty three years old and perfectly capable of dressing myself. I don't need you telling me what to wear or how to wear it,”
“You didn't have them last night but it finally looks like you grew some balls,” he smiles teasingly.
“Don't do that,”
I head over to the bathroom to change, but before I can close the door his body steps in. Forget the fact that I'm doing what he says. No, he is Ian Hunt so he is going to make a point.
“Why the fuck do you always have to argue with me?” his eyes are sharp and demanding while his hands latch onto my already throbbing wrists.
“I'm not arguing! I just want you to trust me! I mean don't you trust me?”
It's bad enough I can't go anywhere or do anything by myself. Ian always has to come. I stay here in this house all day until he and Danny come home. It's a silly he doesn't trust me because I haven't given him a reason not to.
"Yeah," he shrugs passively, "I trust you,"
"Then why-"
"It's them I don't trust, Ava!"
I sink back from his angered outburst. My wrists are still engulfed in his large hands so it's difficult to pull away.
“When my three year old son is telling me that you made plans with the principal without me that's a problem.” his voice is on the edge of shouting while his fingers dig into my bruised flesh. I scream out from the dominating pressure on my wrists.
“It was supposed to be a surprise for Christmas! He wants to move Danny up a grade, that's all!” I try to squirm out of his hold but he holds tighter.
“Please let go. It hurts so bad.” I groan when he doesn't release his painful hold.
“He wants to put him in kindergarten?” he mumbles this a few times before realization hits.
“You...you make me so happy, babe!” he exclaims before pulling me into a hug. I stay still while his palms clasp between my sweaty cheeks. His lips graze mine before he plants a firm, wet kiss.
#
“So, you two have history together?”
With a bored yawn, I nod. This is the fifth therapist we've been to because every time they say something Ian doesn't like he wants to leave. It's December now and we've been trying this “therapy” for almost two months now.
“Can we start from the beginning?”
“Beginning of what?”
“The beginning of your childhood, Mr. Hunt.”
Looking up, I see Ian's nostril flare while he keeps his fists in a ball. I manage to scoot away a bit but not without Dr. Burkes noticing.
He writes something down before looking back at me.
“Why did you move away, Mrs. Hunt?”
My walnut shaped eyes lock onto his. I hold a menacing glare but he doesn't waver. Instead he rubs his gray haired chin before saying,
“Are you afraid of him?”
“First of all,” I sit up straighter to appear more intimidating. “I'm not Mrs. Hunt, okay? Call me Ava.”
“Babe, don't start that.” Ian shakes his head disapprovingly. “Ignore her Doc,” he then waves his hand dismissively.
“And secondly,” I continue without glancing in Ian's direction. “Fear is what I've grown used to, but I'm not so much afraid of him, per se. I'm more afraid of his actions.” I admit sheepishly.
I feel his head move to look at me. I want to look at him; to see what his eyes are saying but I can't look at him. I'm afraid of what he'll do.
“His actions?”
“Yes,” I sigh then look towards the stout doctor with eyes just as gray as his hair.
“He's dangerous when he gets angry,”
The silence in the room is suffocating me. I don't know if I've said too much or anything at all, for that matter.
“You think we could do this another time?” Ian's low voice; full of shame and embarrassment fills my ears.
“Ava let's go,”
With a huge feeling of hopelessness lingering over me, I close my eyes. My hands are between my shaking legs while dread seeps into my veins. They'll never get through to him.
“No sir. You paid for an hour and thirty minutes so that's what you're going to get. Please sit down, Mr. Hunt.”
“Ava, let's go.” his tone is startling. As if he is on the verge of attacking someone. The way he sounds indicates he is gritting his teeth.
“The cancellation fee and your session combined is over three grand. Do you really want to waste your money?”
“Time is money, and as far as I see it we've already wasted enough time. So Burkes, do you really think the money bothers me?” He turns to him with a raised eyebrow. By this time my hand is locked into Ian's while we stand near the door.
“It's already wasted anyway, so explain to my mom why I'm not paying some pretentious dick to tell me problems I already know exist.”
With that he storms out, dragging me along.
“Ian stop it! Just go back in there and let him help you. Let him help us,” I plead.
He ignores me, only to pull me harder. A few bystanders notice but like always, they know who Ian is so they don't say anything.
“How do you think I'm able to come back to you so willingly, huh?”
He stops walking. His head is down but his grip on my hand is still firm. We're right outside of the black SUV. The same car he he has driver's for.
His shoulders slouch as he sighs tiredly. He doesn't turn to me but I am able to see a change in his mood. A small nod from him makes realize he is going to listen, so I continue.
“I've been seeing a therapist.” I concede solemnly. “Before we came here, Danny and I were seeing a therapist.”
I think I know why I went with him. I think I finally realize what I'm doing here. It's not because I'm seeking revenge for what he has done to me. No, it's not because I want to get even. It's really because I want to help him. I want to love him; a different him.
“What are you saying, Ava?”
“I'm saying go back in there because I think he can help you. I think he can help us, Ian.”
“He can't help us if you keep playing the victim,” he is now facing me with raised brows and a distressed frown.
“Is that what you think? That I'm playing the victim?” I scoff as he stares dumbfoundly at me.
“You wonder why I'm hesitant toward you? Why I can't fully be comfortable around you? Because I'm afraid you'll hurt me again! I'm afraid of the awful bruises and drowning in constant pain." I don't even know why I'm trying to convince someone as stubborn as him to go back in there. Perhaps, it's because I feel like he can improve just like I can. We all have things we need to work on and despite what he thinks, we all can't save ourselves.
"What do you want from me, Ava?"
I jump from his change in tone. By this time my hand is free and so are his. We're inches apart, arguing in the middle of the sidewalk.
"I mean damn, I'm trying to be who you want me to be and it's still not working. So what do you fucking want?"
“I want you to realize how much help you need. I want you to know that you can't save yourself.” I speak softly.
His teary eyes smolder while he tilts his head. His look is one of intrigue, confusion, anger evem. But there is one emotion that outweighs all; guilt.
He closes his eyes, as if he is remembering something. I watch him open them again, only to be met with something deeper.There is something buried underneath his dissecting stare. Something inside of him is screaming for help. And the longer I get lost in his enticing green eyes, the more I realize that he needs to be saved from himself. And that I'm going to have to be the one to do that.
--**--
unedited.
Vote, comment, fan.
So guys, how was it? Do you think Ava is finally getting through to Ian? She is starting to realize how messed up he is so does this mean she is starting to develop feelings for him? Or, is this really part of her plan? Build him up to break him down. I mean once you know someon's weakness it's really easy to prey on them.
As always, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I wish you all very Happy Holidays! :)
P.S. Guess who is going to be broke after Christmas? :.(