| "Save Yourself" | ||
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The worst is yet to come. So vulnerable and dumb. Say the words and I'll dissolve. Tell me how long should this last I've been forgetting how to act and these memories will burn like gasoline. And I believe there's something more cause this isn't what I've been looking for And if I blink my eyes I'm afraid I might miss some of it This makes no sense, a mirage of an oasis And it kills my time ~ Something More, by Sinch May 25, 2008 Paige's Place 2015 hours Joshua sat alone on Paige's balcony and brooded. It was raining, and being out there for almost two hours...he was thoroughly soaked. He didn't usually brood, but then lately, he had been doing a lot of unusual things. He was damned, he believed, damned to be attached to this woman from the moment he had laid eyes on her. This was why he brooded because it was not often, hell not ever, that something hit him so profoundly. And damned if he didn't know what to do about it. The plan would continue, he and Michael had put way too much effort into it, they were in too deep, and the stakes were too high. There could be no going back, only forward. Maybe he should just tell her? Tell her how it was between them because certainly right now she did not understand. He had had a chance to explain things many of times, but he didn't. He couldn't tell her and he couldn't let her save him. He couldn't save her from him. She would have to save herself. And he would have to live with her decision. "Damned if I do...damned if I don't," he whispered. He pulled his knees up to his chest and suppressed a shiver. Wet...and cold. He felt more than heard her apartment door close and he took a deep breath. She was home. After about five minutes she finally came out sliding the door open and stepping out onto the balcony. She looked down at him, sitting with legs up and his back against the door. "What are you doing?" she asked quietly. "Thinking," he said flatly. Brilliant comeback, he thought. "I left you a message..." "Couldn't understand it totally," he cut her off. "Guess I couldn't get a signal..." "It's done, I assume?" He almost winced at the sarcastic tone to his voice. "Did you doubt?" she answered just as sarcastic. He had to smile at that. She must be tired, she usually wasn't this bold. "No," he shook his head though he still did not look at her, "I never doubted." Never wanted to hurt you either but that didn't stop me from doing it, did it? "It's raining out ya know," she said and he just nodded his head. "Come inside, you're gonna get sick," she said flatly and went inside. He sighed deeply. Why couldn't she just tell him to go to hell? It was certainly what he deserved. He did not deserve her caring or her worry. He deserved nothing. He was the one that was damned, after all. Damned to love her. No, it wasn't love he told himself. It was anything but love between them. It could never be love. It was something more primal, more instinctive, more destructive. What was to only have been a stage, a temporary arrangement, had somehow become permanent, something for keeps. But it wasn't love. Love wasn't for keeps. Love wasn't forever. Love could be torn, ripped, eviscerated, and left a hollow bleeding carcass on the balcony. What they had was forever. Ownership was forever. He could own forever. Sign on the dotted line, give it all away, and she was just his. Just his, forever and forever, and without regards to love or understanding or the rest of the world and all their rules, or any other things but the knowledge that she would always come back. Not because she was his slave, or something subservient, but just his. Just his. And he was hers. And he was damned to it. The problem would be her understanding what it was. Surely, she felt something, the same things he felt, the fire, the passion, the light that burned so bright it was hard to look into because that light branded the entire spectrum. The light blinded and hurt and healed all at the same time. How could he make her see this? He couldn't. He couldn't tell her. And that's why he was damned. He got up grimacing from the stiffness in his legs. He went inside and she was waiting for him. He locked the door and pulled the blinds closed. She tossed two towels at him and he noticed something different about her. "How's your head?" "Don't worry about it," she replied without hesitation. Ok, he deserved that. She moved ever so slightly and he finally realized what was different. Her arm, the cast was different...it was blue. "What happened to your cast?" He moved closer to her his heart rate picking up. What had happened out there? What had he sent her into? How could he be so cold to ask her if the mission was done and not ask how she was? After all her injuries, after all the things he said, all he had done to her, he had succeeded in hurting her further. The anger swept into her tired eyes as she fixed them on him. "My cast?" she seethed at him quietly. "What the fuck do you care?" The harshness of her tone cut into him but he couldn't say anything. He, for once, had no response. "Oh," she smiled, "am I out of line? Should I just answer the question like the good little soldier that I am?" He just stared at her starting to feel the anger build inside of him. "Answer me," she demanded louder now. He clenched his jaw then opened his mouth but she held up her hand. "Your mission went as planned. I successfully manipulated Eric into helping me, just like you said I would." Her tone flushed the anger from his system and he felt weak, like he would crumple under the sadness inflected in her voice as it bounced off his hollow insides. She was lying, but he couldn't help but feel the pain in her voice anyway. She smirked at him, and it was anything but friendly. Perhaps, she had learned that from him as well? "You should have been there Joshua. To see me as I broke him down one comment at a time. Stripped him into nothingness, into a state so vulnerable he couldn't say no." She stepped closer to him and gently moved a piece of wet hair from his face and smiled softly. "You would have been so proud of me." He opened his mouth but she was quicker, "maybe not proud because that's what you expected, it was what you knew I would do all along. After all, it's easy once you've learned first hand. Isn't it?" Here it was, the chance. Joshua could just - he could just tell her everything and let her know how sorry he was for everything he'd done. He could tell her. He could tell her right now, he really could. Tell her it wasn't his fault she had to go out, that he hated it, but he had to do it. Remind her he had protected her though, even as he sent her, he had protected her. Tell her and let her save him from the depths he had sunk to. But then what? Mending fences and letting himself back in? But there was no way back. The fallen could not be saved. He didn't dare ask for forgiveness. He couldn't let Paige know, not even for an instant, how he felt...and god how he felt! The weight of her pain crushed him, and the pure sadness and defeat in her eyes tore at him. He could see it all now, up close, just what he'd done to her. And despite all his supposed strength, Joshua could not bring himself to utter a single word. She shook her head slowly and that small act, that tiny motion that made her hair move slightly around her face hit him with such force he thought it would bring him to his knees. But hurt was not something he did on a long term basis. He bounced back, always, because he knew otherwise people would just trod all over him. There wasn't time for licking wounds or to heal. Best way to forget old wounds was to get new ones. So in that same instant her boldness lit the fires that had temporarily been snuffed and he drew a breath. His gaze hardened at her and he watched her stiffen upon recognizing it. You gotta save yourself Paige, please, save yourself, because goddammit I can't save you from me. "We're not even," he growled softly at her. "We'll never be even." Ownership yielded too steep a price tag. Now he waited. Waited to see what she would do next. He knew she was lying about Eric. She was a good liar, hell she was a great liar, but since it takes one to know one, and Joshua was the best, he saw through her lie easily enough. He didn't know what really happened out there, wasn't sure if he ever would. But he did know Eric helped Paige, for whatever reason, he had helped her. He also knew that Paige had gotten hurt in the process. And Joshua might ponder on that later because now Paige had a decision to make. What she was going to do about him. This was her chance, her chance to save herself. She could just turn away from him. Or she could let herself be owned. He had already come to grips with his submission to her, now it was up to her. Fortune favored the bold and so did Joshua. And Joshua got his move. It was too quick for him to see the moment when Paige made up her mind, but the flash of sudden motion, and the almost hesitant pressure upon Joshua's lips....Paige made her move, made it crystal clear what she wanted. She broke the kiss staring up at him with an expressionless face. Then she licked her lips, a gesture innocent and intentional at the same time. Something about her always suggested that. And for a moment, Joshua was unsure of himself. Her hands came up to his chest and she unbuttoned his shirt slowly as her green eyes filled with a darkness he hadn't ever noticed before. Her hand that wasn't casted rubbed his chest, the cold skin almost burning under its warmth. She moved again, making her mind up quicker than he could catch it, and she was leading him into the bedroom. His heart started beating the slightest bit and he thought he should feel more aroused, more excited, but something inside was telling him this was wrong. And he argued with himself that it wasn't wrong. He owned her. She owned him. This was what their relationship was all about, passion and burn, burn and passion, and desire, pure and sweet and deadly. His thoughts fell away as she undressed herself, then undressed him pushing him gently on the bed. Paige kissed him, and he just lay there, doing nothing. It was a soft kiss, and that scared him. Too soft, just a brush of lips. Her hand was upon his cheek, caressing his cheekbone gently...again that strange sort of tenderness he wasn't expecting from her. She kissed him, light little kisses, over and over upon his mouth, cheek, and neck, and she was lying on top of him, pressing down her full weight upon him. She rubbed herself against him, but not really erotic...it was more sensual. She was acting like an enamored lover in her first time with her beloved. She moved slowly, and Joshua felt...confused. He thought she wanted something hard, something fast. Thought she wanted to take something from him, rip it from his body, tear it from his soul. But instead she was just caressing him, almost as if offering him something, and he didn't have the daring to take it. So he simply lay there, unaccepting. He closed his eyes, and let her do things, but she wasn't doing anything. Not the kind of doing that entailed things whispered in the back corner of a bar. Not the kind of doing parents shielded their children's eyes from. It wasn't doing. It was...making. He opened his eyes and watched her as she rolled herself to the head of the bed and pulled the covers back. She settled beneath them, then beckoned him to join her. Still thoroughly bewildered, he did as she motioned, sliding beneath the covers. She snuggled into him and he put his arms around her and held her tightly. He simply held her, and he was left dazed by the events of the last couple of minutes. Paige had stripped herself, then him, and instead of doing what he thought they were going to do, she was sleeping. The slow, rhythmic breaths told him she was asleep. So he laid his head upon her shoulder and closed his eyes. This was her decision? He had expected something else, yelling, fighting, sex, something. Not this. Not just lying here holding her as she slept. Damned. He was damned to care when he should not. Damned to hold her closely, her body so familiar to him now that he swore his empty heart beat in rhythm with hers. And he felt something, holding her warm body, something he hadn't felt in a long time. He was afraid. Afraid for her and what he might still do to her. Holding her somehow wasn't enough. He wanted to touch her, feel her, be inside of her, with her, together as one, drowning and burning in the fire that she held dominion over. The fire that she owned. He longed for it because that was the only time he felt alive and free from the world that was hell bent on destroying them both. It was the only time he could forget himself and let someone else take charge. And there was a certain ironic freedom to that. He wanted to love her, to make everything alright again, to beg her to love him. He wanted to tell her everything. He wanted to open up to her, to let out all the pain that ate at him and filled the empty places in his soul. But he couldn't grant himself that small relief. No, the damned had no right to salvation. But he had been up for many hours, had been on the move, and he was too tired to consider all these things, all these events at the moment, and he quickly drifted off into an exhausted sleep. ******** Joshua woke to Paige kissing his neck lightly. He was on his back and she lay on her side along the length of his body. He attempted to move his arms but found he couldn't. The room was still dark, it was the middle of the night though he had no idea what time it was. He pulled harder and felt the leather dig into his wrists as his arms were stretched out to either side of him. And for the second time that night, Joshua was unsure of himself. She had gotten him when he was most vulnerable. When he was asleep. "What are you doing, sweetness?" he asked quietly. He moved his hands trying to gauge the tightness of whatever straps held his arms. Just that small movement made his shoulders ache. She had tied him perfectly, in a manner that he would not be able to use the massive strength of his arms and any movement would stretch his shoulders. "You're so beautiful," she said in a breathy voice. It was words like that, spoken with such conviction, that caught Joshua every time. "You know I hate you...don't you," she said quietly. Her voice was a dark whisper. His only response was to lay his head back and close his eyes as she moved over him. He groaned as her hands and her mouth did obscene things to various parts of his body. This went on for a short time until he was almost to the edge, then she suddenly stopped. She had twisted him up, twisted his feelings, twisted a knot into his stomach so tightly, and he tried to make sense of it. But there wasn't room for thought. There wasn't even room to breathe, much less having articulate thoughts. There was just needs and wants, all balled up into one, all having to be satisfied in that moment or Joshua was going to explode. But Paige apparently would have none of that. He groaned again. "Paige," he whispered as she kissed his mouth and rubbed his shoulders. She did not answer as she continued to soothe him, to bring him down from his high. God, she was killing him. When he had caught his breath, it started again. This time she climbed on top of him and drove herself down around him. She moved quickly, erratically, in a pace he couldn't keep up with or measure. Each movement pulled little hitching noises from his throat. Each thrust of her body on him pulled at his wrists and his shoulders screamed in agony. Being inside her was the epitome of hell, hot and scorching, and painful, but even at the same time she was coupling that blinding pain with pleasure. She would build it, build the pleasure with intensity and purpose, and then she would stop. Just stop. And he would be left shaking, wanting that release, wanting her to let him go over the edge. Then the cycle would repeat itself. He didn't know how many times she did it, how many times she would bring him just to the edge never allowing him to go over. Then she would calm him, comfort him, stroke his cheek, lay soft kisses on his body, and massage his aching shoulders as he shuddered helplessly beneath her. And always whispering to him, always telling him, over and over, like a demented mantra, that it was okay, that he would be okay. He knew then, his position had been taken, and that she controlled every breath, every movement, every pain and ache, every nerve and thought...all of it, all of him, were at her mercy. No, he didn't know how long it lasted, how many times she denied him that final pleasure, but somewhere in there, at some point when she broke him, he had started to beg. Whimper and beg for her to release him. But she was cruel with her power, as cruel as he had ever been. But every lesson learned of hell, every brutal pain he felt, could not be fully learned without knowing what the heaven side was. She brought him to the edge, yet again, for another mind numbing pain filled journey, and when he thought she might stop, she didn't. She pressed her casted arm over his throat cutting off his air. She continued to bring him to the edge, daring him to go over. But he couldn't breathe, and the panic set in, with the pain, with the pleasure, and he finally went over. He came so hard he swore his entire body shattered. Just broke, into a million pieces, and he was merely one raw over-stimulated nerve. His entire body hummed and buzzed. His mind was gone. His thoughts were gone. There was nothing but that intense ecstasy crashing over him. She had let off his throat at just the right moment, timed it perfectly to be effective without killing him and he drew in a deep breath and screamed. He'd never screamed during sex before, but that time, he did. One primal scream, and he didn't think anyone could tell whether it was a scream of pain or a scream of pleasure. She collapsed on top of him breathing heavily and trembling. He panted for breath not even feeling his shoulders anymore. All he felt was her, struggling for her own breath and her weight on top of him. She finally moved, though it was slow and heavy, dropping to his side. She pulled the covers over both of them as she settled in next to him. He wanted to ask her to undo his arms but he couldn't find the strength for a single word. So he did the only thing he could do, lay there helplessly beside her and sleep. Return |
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