UK top 100 chart music was playing in the background. 'Gorilla ' by Bruno Mars came on.
Bruno was singing, "Yeah, Got a body full of liquor, with a cocaine kicker and I'm feeling like I'm thirty feet tall, so lay it down, lay it down.'
Malora walked slowly into the middle of the room: her stomach was in knots: her mouth was dry: her eyes are saucers.
When she was two feet away from the bed, he said, 'Stop.'
She stopped.
'Strip. Slowly.'
Malora froze with shock.
He laughed. The sound was soft but carried some hint of cruelty. He was the cat playing with a mouse. From his position of dominance and control he said, 'I won't say relax, I'm not going to eat you, because I am.'
Malora straightened her back and stepped out of her platforms.
'No,' he commanded. 'Not the shoes. Leave them on.'
Silently she stepped back into them. Malora could hear the blood pounding in her ears. No man had seen her nude. She untied the ribbon in front of the diaphanous dress and shrugged. It slipped off her, whispering and sighing.
For a moment Malora stood in her lacy underwear, suspenders and stockings.
Bruno Mars was belting, look what you're doing, look what you've done. 'cause in this jungle you can't run.
For a second Malora thought of Mika, her best friend, saying every puss needed a good pair of boots, and she told herself, sure, why not? It was just sex.
Malora twisted her hands behind her back and took her bra off. Let it dangle at the tip of one finger before she let it drop.
She saw his chest rise with an indrawn breath, and she slipped the fingers of both hands into the bit of lace and string and eased it slowly down her legs. She came up slowly resisting the urge to cover herself with her hands.
'You have a very, very beautiful body, Malora McCarran,' the man on the bed said. His voice was thick with lust. And his eyes blazed passionately.
'cause what I got for ya, I promise it's a killer, you'll be banging on my chest, bang, bang, Gorilla!
Malora met his gaze again. His eyes were eating her alive. She had never seen hunger like that.
Ohh yeah, you and me baby making love like Gorillas.
'Turn around.'
She turned around.
Hey, I got a fistful of your hair, but you don't look like you're scared you just smile and tell me daddy it's yours.
'Now spread your legs.'
'cause you know how I like it, you's a dirty little lover.
Malora stepped outwards.
'More.'
She obliged. Her calf muscles strained to hold the position in the high shoes.
'Bend forward.'
She bent.
'Touch the floor.'
And you're screaming give it to me baby, give it to me mutherfucker!
Malora spread her fingers, laid them on the floor, and heard his gasp. For some long seconds she was bent forward, her legs spread far apart, and her ass high in the air. His eyes were a hot tingle on her exposed skin. The pose was blatantly demeaning. She should feel degraded and humiliated. Instead there was an unfamiliar heat between her legs. And her belly was clenched with feral excitement.
'Come here.'
Malora dropped to her knees and crouching low, turn around. He was sitting on the edge of the bed. She stood and went to him. His strong hands spanned her waist and before she knew it she was travelling in the air. Malora landed on the bed with a slight bounce and a shocked gasp. On her back she watched him with widened eyes. His eyes were black and impenetrable. His body hard and big, the muscles rippling.
'I own you,' he said possessively. 'You're mine to do with as I please.' Then he pinned her on the bed and held her jaw in his palm. 'Say it. '
'I am yours to do as you please with.'
Look at what you're doing, look what you've done, 'cause in this jungle you can't run.
Misty fit leather strapped around her wrists and ankles. When they were snugly bound he hooked them to the chains that were anchored to the posters of the bed. Both seemed to have materialized our of nowhere. But then he secured the blindfold over her eyes. And the experience became totally different. With hee eyes covered all her senses were heightened and intensified. Malora quieted her mind and quietly waited for his next move. The bed beneath her cheek was soft; the sheet was silky and cool. Then he bent over her, opened her legs and paused. She felt his stare on her opened, freshly waxed pussy. Malora felt her body tremble with anticipation.
Cause what I got for Ya, I promise it's a killer, you'll be banging on my chest, bang bang, gorilla!
'What a beauty you are.' He ran his fingers along the slit of flesh. It opened out further. 'Like the petals of a pink flower,' he purred.
She flushed with excitement.
'Soaking wet.' He took his fingers out, then, 'And as I expected: sweet.'
Malora flushed further. She knew without a doubt that he had sucked on that finger. It was dirty, and at the same time, arousing.
Her heart hammered in her chest.
'You want this too,' he said so softly she had to strain to hear him. 'As much as me.'
And Malora realized that he was right: she did. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. She wanted from him what she had never wanted from any other man. She wanted him inside her, stretching her, possessing her.
Malora let a whimper escape unconsciously.
That small and tentative response from her drove him over the edge. 'Sorry,' he grated suddenly. 'I just can't do foreplay this time.'
He put his hands on either side of her and plunged into her. The shock of his sudden entry made her cry out in pain. He hurt her. A lot.
He froze. The ferocious lust seemed to drain from his body. 'Fuck,' he swore, and pulled out of her.
Unable to see, Malora felt so alone.
She could not help it. Tears well up in her eyes and escaped down the sides of the blindfold, down her temples. Ashamed to the core, she squeezed her fists.
'Why didn't you tell me?'
'You didn't ask,' she sniffed, feeling incredibly stupid.
The bed shifted. 'It will be better next time,' he murmured.
Suddenly she could see again and her arms and legs were free and without touching her or attempting to comfort her, he stood and began to dress.
Rejected and defeated, Malora watched his strong V-shaped back, the beautifully proportioned buttocks, and the columns of his muscular legs as he shrugged into his shirt.
'You're leaving?' Malora asked. And, wow, she sounded pathetic. No wonder he wanted to run.
'I'm afraid I have to be in Tokyo tomorrow.' He wouldn't meet her eyes. 'But thank you.'
The idea of lying there, naked, used, and watching him leave, was pretty bloody awful. So she peeled herself off the bed and fled into the shower, drowning his footsteps and the click of the door in a torrent of water.
*
Malora woke up pretty late the next day and pattered woozily in the direction of the kitchen, noticing only just in time that the place was full of cleaners. She was sure Titan paid them generously, but nobody needed her unsolicited wang at eleven o'clock in the morning. Diving back into the bedroom, she lurked under the duvet until they were finished. She meant, obviously she could have got dressed and gone about her business, but she didn't want to be in their way. Malora discovered what she'd missed when she turned down the bed last night. There were leather cuffs handing off the four pole of the bed, and the blindfold was on the polished bedside table. And also the bed—as she'd previously discovered—was ridiculously big and cozy, probably because the mattress was Swedish, cost six figures, and contained a gazillion pocket springs, and the sheets were Egyptian cotton with a thread count higher than her salary would be. Wow. How was this her life? Even just for one month.
Eventually the cleaners left. And, respectably dressed—well, semi-respectably as, actually, they were the new rainbow unicorn pajama bottoms—Malora crept over to the kitchen. She perused her options before settling on the caviar and quails eggs and wild strawberries. Her drinking options were Veen Velvet, which she finally figured out was water, and the champagne from the evening before, which she identified instantly because she was just that classy.
There was also a coffee machine, but it looked like a torture device, and she was too scared to use it. Clearly, living the high life was going to be tougher than she'd imagined. And that was when she caught sight of the flowers on the dining table.
Malora wasn't sure she'd ever seen a hundred roses before, but there they were: a splash of wild scarlet in the middle of all that muted, designer extravagance. Titan had sent a note too: Thank you for a wonderful evening.
Well, that was nice. Sort of, since the night ended in disappointment. She definitely appreciated the thought.
Except it seemed more of an I took you to the opera, where your heartfelt response to the music warmed my cynical cockles gesture than an I tried to fuck you but was disappointed about your virginal pussy. But then, Titan was inconceivably wealthy: they did things differently on his planet. Anyway, it probably meant he’d enjoyed what brief thing they'd done together Despite the awkward beginning. And the awkward middle. And the—well, honestly, the whole thing had been awkward.
Malora breakfasted on strawberries and tap water, sitting rebelliously on the edge of the gold-veined marble worktops. Then she swam in the building's magnificent—and thankfully empty—pool and did some yoga, feeling somewhere between the Real Housewives of Kensington and Will Smith in I Am Legend. In the sense of being kind of on her own a bit. Not in the sense of fighting any zombies.
But the truth was, she wasn't used to being alone. Suddenly missing her sister, Malora called her.
'I'm baking a cake,' Lorena announced the minute she picked the call.
'You are?' There was a brightness in Malora's voice. Lorena only baked when she was feeling good.
'Strawberry, your favorite.'
'Oh good.'
'What time are you coming home?'
'I'm leaving now, actually.'
'Good. I want you to take a quarter over to Mika's mum.'
'OK. See you in twenty five minutes,' Malora said and after putting a jar of blackberry jam, two tins of biscuits, and a box of fancy chocolates into hee bag, left the apartment. She took the bus to Kilburn.
As she was running up the steps she meet Mark's sister who called out, 'Heard you snagged yourself a rich boyfriend.'
'Not quite,' Malora replied, and before she could be bullied into a confessional conversation stepped aside, saying, 'Sorry, Lynn, but got to rush.' She ran past Lynn taking the shallow steps two at a time. Already the curtain twitchers had spread the story.
Malora turned her key in their yellow door and was greeted by the fragrant smell of her sister's baking. It was instantly familiar and dear. This was her home. Lorena was at the kitchen sink washing dishes.
'Hey, I can do that for you.'
'No, I'm finished,' she said, turning the tap shut and snapping off her rubber gloves. She faced Malora, but her eyes, assessing, careful, and worried, changed when she saw her.
'Oh my God!' she cried. 'Your hair. I can't believe how beautiful you look.'
Malora smiled at her. 'I missed you yesterday. Where's Louis?'
'Napping. Have you had breakfast?'
'Yeah. I brought some stuff for you.' Malora reached into her knapsack, brought out the tins of biscuits and chocolates and put them on the small kitchen table.
Lorena came forward, but she didn't not touch the food. Instead she looked at Malora. 'Did you steal this?' Her voice was no more than a whisper.
'Rena!' she cried, shocked. 'What are you saying? Titan's secretary bought all this for me and I brought some back for you.'
She sank weakly into a chair. 'Sorry. Sorry, Mal. Of course, you would never steal. I've just been so worried about you. Everything is so different. I don't know what to think anymore.'
The oven pinged and she stood, but Malora pushed her down gently.
'I'll get it,' she said, and donning the oven gloves, took the cake out. It smelled divine and was nicely risen. Malora closed the oven door, put the cake on the metal rack and leaned against the sink. 'Shall I put the kettle on? We need to talk.'
Lorena nodded and Malora set about making the tea. While the tea was boiling she laid cups and saucers. Everyone else in the estate drank from mugs except Lorena, who always used a cup and saucer. Malora poured the boiling water into the teapot and carried it to the table. When the tea had brewed she poured it out into two cups. Then Malora opened a tin of biscuits from Fortnum and Masons and held it out to her sister. Lorena thin, pale fingers hesitantly take one. She bit into it and chewed.
'Nice?' Malora asked.
Lorena nodded slowly.
'You're going to America on Wednesday, Rena.'
Lorena put the biscuit down beside the saucer. She linked her hands tightly on the table and faced Malora. 'I’wm going nowhere until I know exactly what is going on. Exactly how you are getting all this money? And what you are doing for it?'
'I explained last night. The man I am, seeing has given it to us.'
'Who is this man who has fifty thousand pounds to spare?'
'Mum, he's a billionaire many times over. He gave me double what I asked.'
She stared at Malora aghast. 'You asked him for money? I didn't bring you up to ask strange men for money.'
'Yeah, I asked him and so what? I didn't force him or steal it.'
'Well, I don't want it. I'd rather Louis shrivel up and die than use this dirty money.'
Malora stared at her sister in shock. Her face was set in the stubborn lines that Malora knew meant that her mind was made up. It could not be changed. Malora swallowed the lump in her throat and stood suddenly. 'You'd make me loose someone I love for your stupid pride,' she accused.
Lorena blinked suddenly, the wind taken out of her sails. 'Are you going to sit there and tell me that if I was dying and had a few weeks left to live you wouldn't have asked a filthy rich stranger for a bit of money?'
Lorena said nothing.
'High and mighty ideals and principles are all right when you are not utterly, utterly desperate, Rena.'
'You didn't just ask him, did you? Tell the truth. You prostituted yourself.'
'Assuming that I did. And I didn't.' Malora said a little prayer for her lie. 'Wouldn't you have done the same for me?'
Lorena began to cry softly. 'You don't understand. You will, one day, when you have your own child.' She beat her chest with both her hands. 'I won't have you sully yourself for Louis. You are young. You have your whole life ahead of you and Louis is going to die, anyway.'
'No, he's not,' Malora whispered fiercely.
'But he is. And it's time you accepted that.'
'Remember when after mother died and daddy left and we swore to take care of each other?'
Lorena's eyes become bleak. 'Yes.'
'Would you have me break my promise?'
'Louis is going for another bout of chemo on Monday.'
'What for, Lorena? What for? That stuff is so dangerous it'll probably kill him before the cancer does.'
Her lips moved wordlessly. Then she covered her mouth with one hand. 'Sit down, Mal,' she whispered. 'Please.'
Malora shook her head. 'No, I won't. What's the point? In all the time I was trying to find a way to keep your son alive I never thought that it would be you that would stand in my way. Mum would still be alive if we had gotten the money needed for her treatment on time. And now that I have a chance you save Louis, you're refusing me.'
Malora turned away from her and began to walk out of the house. She had sold myself for nothing. She reached the front door and she heard Lorena shout from the kitchen, 'Do you like him?'
Malora turned around and she was standing there, so frail and breakable her heart hurts. Lorena looked sick herself.
Now she could be truthful. 'Yes.'
'We'll go.'
Malora walked toward her.
'I'm sorry,' she sobbed.
Malora took her rail thin body in her arms and the tears began to flow. Neither of them said anything. Finally, when she could speak, Malora choked out. 'I love you, Lorena. With all my heart. I love Louis, too. Please don't let him leave us at such a young age. You're my sister. I’d do anything, anything for you.'
'I know, I know,' Lorena soothed softly.
'Oh shit,' Malora said.
'What?'
She stepped away from Lorena, put her hand into my pocket and brought out bits of blue shell. 'I brought you a blue egg.'
Lorena tried, she really tried hard, but a giggle broke through. For a few moments Malora could only stare at the rare spectacle of Lorena stifling laughter. Then she too cracked up.
'Take that jacket off and go wash your hand,' Lorena finally said. 'I'll make us a fresh pot of tea and we'll have some of those nice biscuits you brought.'
'They are nice, aren't they?' Malora agreed, slipping her soiled jacket off and walking towards the sink.
Malora was wiping her hands on a tea towel when Lorena said, 'And you'll have to bring that nice man—Titan Pitts, did you say—over to dinner.'
'Uh, yeah. . .When you get back from America.'
Her sister stopped and looked at her. 'I'm going to meet that young man before I get on the plane and I'll have no more said on the matter,' she said firmly.
Malora grinned. 'We're not paying for it.'
And Lorena laughed. For the first time in many months, Lorena threw back her head and laughed. 'That's good. That's very good,' and while she was laughing she began to cry. When Malora went to hold her, she took a deep, steadying breath and said, 'I know what you have done for me. For Louis. You have used your body as a begging bowl.'
Chapter dedication: KeriBungay3on a user
A/N:
Begging bowl, she says? 🤧
The feels!
Anyway, do you think Malora did the right thing by lying to her sister?
Also, do you think Titan would agree to dinner with Lorena?
Will Malora confess to her sister?