Accompanying Song:
Providence, Rhode Island – May 16th, 2013, evening
We don’t spend a minute longer in that place I used to call home.
After I had spoken about what happened, I shut down. I couldn’t say another word. I couldn’t even utter a single syllable. I couldn’t take the pain that came with the memories, couldn’t take the fear that came with that part of my history I don’t remember yet.
The moment I realized it had been about me all along, I blocked it out.
I couldn’t think about the abduction, still can’t.
In his arms I seek comfort, however twisted it may be. He is one and the same, a man who takes what he wants with no regard to the law. Except, with him, I feel safe. There is a difference between him and those who murdered my mother … compassion.
Even though he tries to hide behind a veil of aloofness, I can see how much he cares. The way he carries me in his arms back to the car and gently puts me down, the way he caresses my cheek and holds my hand as we drive back to his place … it shows me he wants me to be okay. The message he sends with his erratic behavior and his violent sex is so different from the air he exudes when he’s near me in a moment of pain. True pain. Emotional, heartbreaking, soul-shattering pain.
That is where he differs.
Those men, no … all I felt with them was despair. Pure despair. I still shiver from the feeling. I’d rather not remember more, afraid that what I find might push me over the brink. I can’t go there.
I look up to Sebastian, who smiles at me as we arrive at his home again. Like before, he carries me out of the car. No questions asked. No objections. He does this because he wants to, not because I need it. Not because I can’t stand and walk on my own but because he needs to take care of me. It’s in his blood, the desire to take care of people. No matter how much he tries to hide it, how much he’s repulsed by this part of him—thinking it’s weakness instead of strength—I know it’s there.
And I’m glad that I found it. Glad that he saves it all for me. I don’t know why he’s suddenly changed so much. It’s as scary as it is refreshing. Appreciated, even. For a second, I could imagine him being the Sebastian I used to know, the man I could fall in love with. I just have to think differently about the times that he forces me to do stuff I don’t want to do. Maybe he does it to help me, to make me become a better person—someone who’s strong, open, willing. Someone who can withstand even the darkest of times.
That is what I hope, at least. It’s all I can derive from the way he toys with my heart and the games he plays with me. I wonder what part of it is real and what part is a farce. I don’t think I’ll have to wait too long before I find out.
He brings me inside and takes me up to his home, carrying me all the way. He only puts me down once we’ve reached the bathroom.
He plucks away a strand of hair stuck to my face and cups my face. His hand lingers for a moment, before drifting down my neck, sending shocks through my body. His tenderness takes me aback. I feel a little guilty for the way my body responds to his touch, but I push the feeling away.
He drapes off my coat, his fingers skidding across my skin, creating goosebumps everywhere. “You’re shivering.”
“I’m not cold,” I say, watching him intently.
A finger is placed on my lips. “Shh… no talking.”
I gulp as he curls his fingers around my camisole and tug it up, carefully lifting it over my shoulders and head, throwing it aside. I’m naked, and his eyes sweep over my body agonizingly slow. The smirk on his face … and the bump in his pants are unmistakable.
He grabs me by the waist, startling me, and lifts me into the tub. He turns on the warm water and throws in some bath salt. Then he starts taking off his clothes. I watch him as he unbuttons his shirt lazily, peeling away layer after layer. My eyes are glued to his skin as he takes it all off. I struggle to cope with my arousal, seeing him in the nude. His cock bounces up and down at the sight of me. It’s is big and firm, enough to fill me and then some. I don’t know why I’m thinking about this right now.
“Sit down,” he says. His command is stern and gentle at the same time. As the water sways back and forth while I perch my ass in the warm water, he slides in behind me. His legs are on either side of me, and his arms wrap around my body, pulling me to him.
“Breathe …” he says.
I let go of the air I was holding in. I feel caught in the act. My heart pounds as he cups the water and throws it over my chest, warming me to my core. He holds me tight and presses a kiss to my temple. It is then that I realize I’ve gone from abducted to willing captive.
It’s a tough pill to swallow.
I wonder if I can get used to this. If I can truly be his. I have to admit, being with him for such a long period of time has made me want him more than I thought I could, and it scares me. It scares the living shit out of me that I could want someone like him—a self-proclaimed monster. He almost choked me, he fucked me when I wasn’t ready, did things to me I didn’t want … he’s the epitome of bad. And yet, I still want him. After everything he’s done, I’m still not done with him.