Chapter 13I''d never been in love but I always imagined it would feel like this. We moved toward the bed. He lowered me down on the sheets, knelt and kissed my ankles and thighs. Everywhere his lips touched me it was like he was eating light, sucking up the heat stuck to my skin. Being touched by him was like being pushed into the underworld. His hands slid up my thighs. I grabbed the sheets underneath me and squeezed as if to orient myself, back into the physical world, so that I wouldn''t be lost in his touches. I wondered what horrible things he''d done.
How many people he killed. He gripped my shoulder in one hand with a murderous and cold pressure. "Do you feel this?" he asked.I realized he''d slid a finger inside of me.I shook my head."Not surprising," he said, as his finger worked inside of me. "I had suspected that might be the case."He slid another finger into me.
"Would you like to know why?" he asked. "Why you can feel nothing?"I knew I couldn''t lie. Not again."Yes," I said, my voice crumbling."It is because you have no passion in your life," he said. "A girl like you has been run ragged by the desires of others, and you have forgotten your own. The girl with the magic cunt has no magic left inside of her."He pulled my legs up over his shoulders.
"I can give you your passion back," he said. "Would you like that?"Maybe it was the way he said the word passion, like a river polishing a stone. Maybe it was the way his unflinching stare seemed to focus the world down into a tunnel between our faces. Maybe it was the adrenaline surge, focusing me on this pivotal point as if for the first time in a long time I was actually and truly present in that moment.But I found myself nodding. Yes.Yes, please.He smirked.
He pressed his mouth against my vagina and flicked his tongue across my clit. * * *I began to feel again.It returned to me slowly, like ice melting into water over my skin. And the more it melted, the more I felt until I became soaked in it, caught in the grip of it, seized by sudden, overwhelming sensation.Fuck, it''d been so long since I felt anything at all.I don''t know what it was about him that was different - many of my lovers had gone down on me in the last few months, but I was more bored than anything else.Pleasure like a long languorous wave rolled over me. His tongue worked slowly at first, then faster, until it was humming and heavy.
And all the while he went down on me he had his thumbs pressed into my inner thighs, making small circles as if to remind me that I was caught in his grip. He wouldn''t let me forget for a moment that I was his prisoner.I came hard and gasping.Then his cock was inside of me.I found myself reaching up to kiss him. My thighs parted, and my hands grabbed his shoulders to pull him in deeper."How did you do that?" I asked, breathless. "I told you," he said.
"I know who you are." That''s what I''d been missing.That''s what I''d been missing since Spider on the rocks, since the days of house parties and teenage summers lost in a kind of motionless bliss. What I''d lost through all the years of trying to make the world better by being crushed underneath rich boys with languorous sweat and fat fingers. Every time his cock pushed into me, I felt ripples of pleasure bending throughout my being.But as he moved in me I became aware of a new sensation. Not the pressure of an orgasm, or the pressure of my explosion building in me.Something else.
Something cold and spoiled.I realized then, why he understood my body and my gift.If the magic inside me was small and golden and hot, his was like a dead hand floating underneath a sheet of black ice. And he''s building pressure inside of him like I''m building pressure. That''s what my insides had been trying to warn me about, why they''d clenched at the sight of him.I tried to pull away but he pinned my arms above my head. I struggled fiercely underneath him, but he held me casually with one hand with an enormous and easy strength, as if it meant nothing."I have always wondered," he said, his voice surprisingly even, "What it would be like for someone like me, to love someone like you.
"He continued to thrust inside of me as he spoke."You wouldn''t believe how difficult it was to get a hold of you," he said. "It took me this long because I was convinced you were a fake. But well, indeed, you are very real.""You mean you brought me here for this?" I asked. "They told me--""--That you could help fix the world?" he said. "Yes, I made sure that they''d mention that to you. I knew you were a bleeding heart, searching for purpose.
"For every psychopath, sociopath, convict, mentally-ill, drug-addicted person I''d been exposed to, I''d only ever met one other person who was truly evil, someone I could not fix."Like I said and I''ll say once more," he said. "I know who you are." Mr. Ainsworth became the rot that only merely dusted the other people''s souls. The only way to escape his own darkness was to stab himself to death with a pair of scissors.But this man inside of me was worse."Would you like for me to love you?" he asked.
I spit on his cheek. He laughed."After I''m finished loving you," he said. "You''ll never be able to love again.".