TARA

I feel so clean, so light, so new as I precede him into Crystal's through the back door. The wind picked up as we rode back, caressing my body, blowing away all that I no longer need. The walls are thudding from the loud music playing in the main room, but despite all the noise, I feel like we're alone. Just me and Tommy, together against the world. I no longer have to carry all my burdens on my own. And I'm so happy, I could hoot with joy.

I wrap my arms around his neck as soon as he closes his apartment door behind us, kiss him hard, because no darkness can come between us tonight, I won't let it. He responds in kind, kissing me deeply, taking my air with his urgency, his tongue demanding entrance. He's kissing me the way he kissed me that first night I came to his apartment, not holding back at all, his whole body tense, hard like a snake ready to pounce.

And I'm trying to match his urgency, give him all he wants, the way he's given me all I want, given me things I never even dared ask for. But all the wishing in the world can't keep the dark memories away. I knew that, am realizing it all over again. Because this is too rough, too raw, too fast, and I can't keep up.

His kiss lessens in intensity like he knows, his hands leaving my ass, travelling up and down my back gently.

"OK, slow," he says, and I don't know if he's telling me or himself that. But it doesn’t matter, because it's exactly what I need and I didn't even have to ask.

He releases me, leads me to the bed by my hand.

"You do want this don't you?" he asks, staring deep into my eyes.

I just nod. I want this more than I can ever put into words, every cell in my body wants this. I just don't know if I can have it.

He removes his jacket, lets it fall to the ground, and does the same with mine. Then he pulls on the string holding my dressed together. It flaps apart and he makes a sound somewhere between a groan and a moan, as he sees me in my underwear. I got the really expensive kind, white laced with gold. He slides the dress off my shoulders, kissing my neck as it slithers off, rivers of warmth flowing through me from all the spots his lips touch, forming a sea in my belly.

Before I realize it, he's sliding my bra off too, the air-conditioned coolness making my nipples stand out. He takes one between his lips, nipping it softly, causing a spasm of need to rip through my pussy, making me wobble. He steadies me, guides me onto the bed, and it passes, melts in the warm rivers still filling my belly.

His kisses travel down the center of my stomach, each a little harder than the last, his hand caressing my breast, pinching my nipple, making me moan. I jerk, try to snap my legs together as his kiss lands on my clit over my panties, but he's holding my legs open, prevents it.

His hand leaves my nipple, moves down my stomach on a clear path to exactly where I want it. His eyes are fixed on mine so intently it feels like we're one. There's need in his, a predatory hunger, but softness too, tenderness. But I still gasp as his hand reaches my pussy, still try to jerk away. Because my desire is congealing now, becoming one with the dark memories of pain, and I'm afraid. Afraid that this one will become one of those too, one of the dark ones. I survived those, but I don't think I'll be able to survive that.

He kisses me, and the fear fades. His hand is resting against my pussy, not moving, but I know he wants to rip my panties off, have his way with me.

"Come on, just let me?" he asks, his eyes fixed on mine again. And I know he's asking me to let him make me feel good, so good I'll forget all else.

"OK," I mutter, and he smiles, kissing my neck again.

This time his kisses don't stop when he reaches the edge of my panties. Instead he pulls them down in one swift, practiced motion and kisses my clit before I even have a chance to react.

His kisses and licks get harder, faster, fiercer, bringing pleasure in such strong waves I can't even focus on my fear anymore. It's like I'm floating, can't even feel the mattress beneath me, and I'm aching for more, for him to take me even higher, for these waves of pleasure to become tsunamis. For them to never end. He pushes a finger into my pussy. My mind conjures up pain at the intrusion, but that's not what I'm feeling as he works his finger in and out of me, adding another, his lips and tongue playing with my clit. All the fear, all the protests of my dark memories are silenced by an orgasm which racks through me like a thousand needles piercing me at once, the pain instantly transforming into rivers of pleasure.

"I want you inside me," I mumble before the pangs of my orgasm even begin to fade. Because this second, it's all I want, all I ever wanted, but I don't know what will happen a second from now.

He doesn't need telling twice as he kicks off his pants and boxers, reaches into the nightstand for a condom. His hard cock is pulsing, seems to expand even further before my eyes. It's thick and long, but not curved. And my fear of big ones rushes to the surface, makes me choke on my own breaths.

He's looking at me, questions he'd rather not ask clear in his eyes. Or as clear as they can be behind that haze of desire. It's fine, he won't hurt me. He won't ever hurt me.

So I just smile at him, wave him over before I change my mind, before the fear wins again.

He enters me slowly, stretching me open, the pain only mental, but I feel it regardless. Yet it won't win, I won't let it win. I want him, I need him, and that knowledge becomes clearer, more pronounced with each thrust of his hips, each inch of his cock he gives me. The sea of pleasure still filling my belly starts roiling, waves forming, his cock the cause of it all. And if I think of nothing else, then this pleasure he's giving me will be all there is. As it should be.

His thrusts get faster, deeper, more out of control, his hands pressing my arms into the bed, my whole body rocking from his need, my need, my fear of it all. He's not holding me down to restrain me, I know it's a possessive thing, but right now I don't really see the difference.

He stops suddenly, pulls out his cock and smiles at me. "Maybe you better get on top."

He plops down on the bed beside me, pulling me to him by my hand. And I don't need a second invitation.

My hips know what to do even if I've never done it this way before. I always had to be held down or else I'd kick and hit, run if I could. I never stopped fighting unless they made me.

But I don't have to fight now, as Tommy's cock slides in and out of my pussy, and I'm in control, of my own body, of my own pleasure, which builds and builds, no longer hindered by the dark memories. We climax together, his cock buried deep inside me, pulsing, filling me like he was made just for me.

I see stars in his glorious, deep, dark blue eyes, and soon they're filling the whole room, twinkling, shimmering, guiding me to a world where only pleasure exists, where there is no pain. Guiding me home.

* * *

I'm woken by Tommy kissing my neck softly. He's spooning me, his arms wrapped tightly around my torso. I know what he wants, his cock is rock hard, pressing against my ass. And I want to let him take it. I really do. But I didn’t sleep well. Nightmares kept waking me, and I don't remember any of them now, yet they left a sour feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I grab his wrist as his hand covers my breast. I don't yank it away, just hold it, so hard my hand is shaking. I so want to want this.

"Not in the mood?" he asks, kissing my neck again without waiting for a reply.

"I just…I don't know…" He takes it as an invitation, kisses me harder, grinding his pulsing cock into my body.

"Later," I whisper, because my heart is racing, my vision blurring. I hope there will be a later.

He releases me, rolls over onto his back. I can tell he's disappointed, but he's trying to hide it. And I want to lay down next to him, press my body against his, wrap my arms around him, and let him hold me. But I don't know if I should, if he even wants me to. So I just lie down on my back too, pulling the sheet over my nakedness and stare up at the ceiling, willing the darkness to fade, my heart to stop beating so very fast.

"Why are you even doing all this for me?" I woke up in a dark mood and it's only getting worse. Even my voice sounds like it belongs to some bitter old woman. But right now I don't know if I can ever give him what he wants. Maybe last night was all I had in me to give.

He doesn't answer right away, but when I glance at him there's no trace of disappointment left in his face. But there’s this pensive look in his eyes like he's trying to figure that out too.

He rolls over again, rising up on his elbow and looks down at me, all of me. I don't want him to see the darkness, but I fear he probably does. "Because I would do anything for you."

"That's just…" But I stop myself from adding "insane" because this could well be the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me. No one sticks around ice queen Tara for long. No one offers to help her. Because she's beyond help.

"Crazy?" he asks, grinning at me. "Maybe, but it's how I feel. Isn't that how it's supposed to work?"

He doesn't add "in love" but I hear it loud and clear, see it plain in his midnight eyes.

But I can't stop the darkness of my mind from covering everything, mixing with even the happy memories, the ones we created together. The ones I hoped would be safe from it. This is too perfect. It can't be real.

"But you're used to treating women like property," I mutter.

He chuckles. "That's not necessarily a bad thing. It also means you'd never have to worry about anyone harming you ever again. And I wouldn't want you to be my slave or anything like that."

He's saying exactly what I want to hear, so why am I resisting? Why is my twisted mind trying to hold onto the pain so hard?

"Besides, my mom taught me to treat all women like princesses, especially the one I chose to be mine forever. And that I should do anything for her." He's smiling as he says it, but his eyes aren't clear anymore as though thick grey rainclouds just covered the starry midnight sky.

"That sounds a little childish," I mumble, but there's no mistaking the sarcasm in my voice. He certainly hasn't treated the other women here as princesses. Maybe he didn't treat them badly, but none of them was his princess.

"Yeah, I was very young when she told me that, she just wanted me to get it." His tone is no longer playful, carries an edge now, and I never want to hear that. Never want to be the cause of that. He's given me so much. If he never gives me another thing he's already given me enough.

"I'm sorry," I say, running my hand along his cheek, as though that will erase the pain that's now plain on his face. "I didn't sleep very well."

It's no excuse. But it's the truth.

He lays his hand over my palm, brings it to his lips and kisses it. "Don't worry about it, I just…"

But he doesn't finish the sentence and I have no idea what he was going to say. I can no longer see what he's thinking just by looking into his eyes, and it's like an invisible wall is blocking him from me, separating us. I want it gone, I want us closer, as close as we were last night, for those few glorious minutes when I managed to climb from underneath all the pain and crushing darkness, and give myself to him.

"Your mom sounds like a fun lady," I say. "I'd like to meet her sometime."

I don't even know what possessed me to say it. I guess I just wanted him to know I want to be a part of his life, a big part, for a long time, forever. But the clouds covering his eyes only grow darker, more threatening, the wall between us thickening, growing opaque. He's still holding onto my hand, but he's no longer kissing it.

"Yeah, that's a story for another day," he finally says, sounding as though he speaking to himself as much as to me. But at least he's speaking, at least I haven't chased him away yet. I never wanted to do that.

So I do the only thing that seems right, natural, what I should've done from the start. I pull his head down and kiss him. He responds immediately, kisses me back. I don't know how much time passes as we just lie there in each other's arms, our tongues entwined, dancing a dance that's ours and ours alone.

"I'll need those photos of your sister," he says later, as I'm watching him get dressed. My mind's still filled only with the sweet memories of our kiss, all that happened before not even registering.

The mention of Sam cuts through them like a wrecking ball.

"I'll get them," I say climbing off the bed.

I wrap my dress around me and rush from the room.

It's fine. He'll find her now. It'll all be fine.