Lust Page 4

  I could relate to that. More than she’d ever know. But I would never divulge that to her. Some people needed to know that others felt what they were feeling, to sympathize with them, but I could never admit to one of my patients how much I related to them. Those feelings were best left locked inside where no one could see them.

  “I’m here to help, Ivy. Please, just let me do my job.”

  I felt her nod against my chest and I slowly began to let her go. I could tell by one look into her tear-filled eyes that she had so many layers. I was only breaching the first one. It would take much longer to fix her than it would any of my other clients I had ever seen before. If I could fix her at all. Looking into her eyes, her soul, I could see so much of myself in there. And I couldn’t be fixed; that worried me.

  “Come on. Let’s go. We can talk in the car.” I walked her back to the parking lot, supporting her weight against me, and then helped her into the car. I didn’t back out of the parking lot until she started talking.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to tell you the truth.”

  “I saw the way you lit up as you told me about Ben last night. Why would something like that brighten you up the way it did? Why would lying make you seem happy?” It was only the tip of the iceberg of questions I had for her. There were so many things I needed to know, but I had to start somewhere.

  She shrugged her shoulders and bit her lip. I wanted so badly to know what was going through her mind. I wanted to see inside her skull and witness the thoughts that had her in such silence it was as if she was alone and I didn’t exist.

  “Their lives make me happy,” was all she said in a defeated voice that made me feel something, but I didn’t know what. It evoked an emotion in me, but I couldn’t tell which one. I was bordering between sympathy and anger.

  “I noticed you’ve reviewed quite a few books. Would you say you read a book a day?”

  “At least.” Her eyes remained trained on her lap.

  “Do you read to escape life?”

  She shook her head adamantly. “No. I read to feel life. To feel something, anything. That’s why I came to see you. I’ve read all of these books about love and hate. About all kinds of sex and feelings. Things I don’t experience because I can’t do it on my own. I want those things. I read about proposals and weddings and it makes me want those things, too. I have never wanted to be married before. Never wanted a family. But these people in these books make me want it all.”

  “Why come see me? Why not your psychiatrist?”

  Her eyes moved to mine. “I’ve seen them since I was eleven. They clearly haven’t been able to help. Not to mention, I need help because I can’t have sex. And you’re a sex doctor, so I figured you’d be able to help me.”

  “I still don’t know what you mean when you say you can’t have sex,” I admitted as I turned in my seat to look more at her. We were still sitting in the parking lot and the sky around us had turned dark; the only light illuminating her face came from the parking lot and my dashboard.

  “People can’t touch me or look at me.”

  “But I’ve touched you,” I mentioned skeptically. I wasn’t sure what she meant.

  She shook her head and returned her gaze to her lap. I grabbed her chin and pulled her eyes back to mine. She stared at me for a moment and I could see the wheels spinning in her head.

  “You haven’t touched me there,” she whispered, moving her sight down, indicating she meant between her legs. “That’s where the problem is.”

  “So you’re okay with affection, as long as it’s not sexual,” I confirmed.

  “Yes. I mean, no. I don’t know. I don’t really like to be touched in general, but I don’t freak out if someone brushes against me or touches my hand. I don’t cringe when you hold my shoulders or when I lean into you. But it all goes very bad when it goes beyond that.”

  “How bad?”

  “Bad,” she answered with a shudder.

  “What happens?”

  “Want to find out?” Her question was cynical, as if she was daring me. Her voice was devoid of emotion and from what I could see of her eyes, they were blank. I didn’t know what I was dealing with, and wasn’t about to jump into that quite yet.

  “Let me take you home. We’ll plan to see each other again tomorrow and we’ll talk about this. Every success plan is different, but I still have to follow rules. We can’t skip steps, Ivy. It’s not conducive to your healing process. So let’s end for tonight and continue working on things tomorrow.” I watched as her face fell and her head nodded in agreement. “I’ll call you in the morning after I find a time slot for you. Is that okay with you?”

  “That’s fine.”

  I stared at her for a few more moments before putting the car in reverse and backing out of the parking lot. I drove her home in the same silence her company provided and it ate at me from the inside out. But I didn’t dare try to start a new conversation after the one we just had. So instead, I sat in the quiet car, listening to the road thud beneath the tires, and let my mind drift to a time when silence was all I had.

  To a silence that was filled with fear and death.

  To a time when everything inside of me had turned off in order to survive.

  My mind was so dark by the time I got back home. Images ran rampant through my head and left me feeling things I had long ago pushed aside. Anger was the strongest and it was the one I fought against most. I didn’t like to feel angry at things I didn’t have the ability to control, but it didn’t stop it from taking hold of me.

  I headed to a room in the back of the house that I had turned into somewhat of a sparring gym. Without bothering to wrap my hands, I took swing after swing on the hanging bag. It wasn’t working. No matter how many times I punched the heavy leather, the anger still held on strong.

  I tried the treadmill, hoping I could run away from the feelings that had overshadowed everything else, but that proved worthless as well. Giving up with the workout, I grabbed my phone and called the only person I knew that had the ability to make me forget, Alyssa.

  It didn’t take any persuading on my part to get her over; it never did. She had her own set of issues when it came to relationships, which made things between us easier. I never had to worry that she’d fall in love with me or need me for anything more than what I needed from her. It was the perfect arrangement. One that I desperately needed to escape to at that moment.

  “I haven’t heard from you in a while,” she said as she walked in the house.

  “I’ve been busy,” was all I said. I didn’t need to explain myself or come up with excuses as to why I hadn’t called her in a week. I generally called her twice a week, sometimes more depending on my moods, but I wasn’t obligated to call her at all and she knew that.

  Her hands touched my bare chest, still sticky from the drying sweat of my workout. I kept her around for many reasons. One of which was that I never had to waste time entertaining her before getting to the purpose of her visit. I never had to offer her a drink or feed her, and we never watched television together. She’d come over and get right to the point once I opened the door.

  “Where is it going to be tonight, Cade?” she asked softly as she kissed a trail up my neck.

  She asked because I wasn’t one that liked sex on a bed. In fact, I hated having sex on a bed. So we switched things up between other furniture, sometimes counters or walls. It became a game to her, which I didn’t mind because playing games with girls were what I enjoyed the most.

  Without a word, I pulled her by the back of her hair to look in her face. I attacked her lips with mine as I shoved her back against the front door and thrust my tongue into her awaiting mouth; the glass pane rattled behind her back with the force at which I pushed her into it.

  “Here,” I said against her lips as my hands began tearing the clothes from her body. She came without a bra, which made access to her tits that much easier. I didn’t bother with her skirt, other than lifting it around her hips. She kn
ew better than to come over with underwear on. I had ripped too many of them and she eventually learned not to wear them. Her arguments about how much money they were fell on deaf ears. They were barely strings of fabric and should never cost as much money as she claimed. Either way, I didn’t care. They were in my way so I removed them. Simply pulling her skirt to her waist was much easier and less of a hassle.

  Her hand found its way inside my basketball shorts and I immediately felt the warmth of her palm around my hardening cock. She pulled one leg up around my hip and began to grind into my erection as she roughly stroked me, but something was off. It wasn’t her moans that were elicited from the pulling and pinching of her nipple between my fingers. It wasn’t even the scratches left behind from her fingernails on my back. I wasn’t sure what it was, but something felt off.

  I took a step back, creating nearly a foot of space between our panting bodies. I knew she could tell something wasn’t right. Her hand had been around my dick, which made it very clear I wasn’t in the right frame of mind. Her eyes landed on mine, questioning me.

  Quickly, I grabbed her by her hair and pulled her to the ground. “I need some motivation,” I growled, hoping she wouldn’t continue to question why I wasn’t fully getting hard. “Let me feel your sweet lips on my dick.”

  Without hesitation, she moved closer to me and grabbed me roughly, pulling my semi-hard cock to her mouth. Her tongue darted out and licked the tip, sending a jolt of warmth down my spine. She teased it for a moment, flicking the head with the tip of her tongue and slowly pulling with her hand. Her other hand reached up and she grazed my balls with her fingernails.

  I was beginning to grow in her hand and needed her to do something before I gave up and kicked her out. “Spit on it and stick it in your mouth until I can feel your fucking tonsils.”

  Her eyes moved to mine and a hint of a smile appeared on her lips. Alyssa loved the way I spoke to her. It was something she said she needed from sex. And it was something I needed to give. So it worked out nicely for both of us.

  She pulled hard on my dick and spit directly on the head, moving it around with her hand before taking me into her mouth. I sucked in air through my teeth as I felt her tongue massaging the sensitive underbelly of my cock.

  There… that was what I needed. I felt myself growing between her lips as she hummed around me. I felt the vibrations through to my balls and methodically began to pump into her mouth while holding on to the back of her head. I wanted her to take all of me, but I could only get halfway in until she’d gag, opening her throat a little more for me. I’d hold myself there for a second as her face turned red and tears leaked from her eyes before pulling back, allowing her to catch her breath. Then I’d do it again.

  I loved fucking Alyssa because it allowed me to do all that I wanted but couldn’t with my clients. They were broken and caused me to be passive most of the time with them as I helped them through their issues. I had to lead them, never able to dominate them the way I had desired. So Alyssa helped me with the frustrations I suffered from after my docile sessions. Alyssa let me unleash the beast I held within. But I couldn’t exactly understand where my frustration came from that night; my session with Ivy wasn’t one of a sexually frustrating manner. She frustrated me, sure, but not in the way that typically triggered me to have a rougher than usual time with Alyssa.

  The more I thought about Ivy, the harder I became. I had to stop my assault on Alyssa’s mouth before I completely lost control and ended it right then and there in the back of her throat. I yanked her up by her hair and spun her in my arms, pressing my chest to her back as her palms slammed against the glass pane on the front door.

  I roughly grabbed onto her hips and slipped inside of her wet and ready pussy in one quick, deep thrust. She screamed as if she wasn’t prepared for it, but her juices on my cock told a different story as the slurping sounds resounded in the empty foyer.

  I hated those sounds. I hated the wet sounds that only sex made. The louder they echoed around me, the darker my thoughts grew and the harder I slammed into her body. Her moans and pants of pleasure turned into groans and grunts of pain. I hated those sounds even more. And knowing I was the one that caused them deepened the feelings of hatred and disgust I bore deep inside. I quickly pulled away from her, leaving her shaking against the door.

  As soon as she turned and looked at me in the eyes, her features softened. She reached her hand up to my face but I backed away before she could touch my cheek. I didn’t want her fucking sympathy. I only needed to drown out the noises and the silence they reverberated in. I needed to erase the memories they brought to the forefront of my mind.

  I grabbed her hand and pulled her gently behind me as I walked to the formal living room across from the foyer. I turned on the stereo and cranked the volume up until I couldn’t hear anything other than the screams of Breaking Benjamin.

  Her eyes pierced mine again as I walked her back against the couch that was only ever used when I fucked her on it. She stared at me, silently questioning my mood. I ignored her gaze and her as I set her on the edge of the armrest and entered her solidly again, with more control than the last time.

  She eventually let it go and succumbed to the multiple orgasms I gave her, screaming my name each and every time. A total of four songs played—I know this because I counted them as I held back. I needed to keep my mind on something; otherwise, it drifted back to either Ivy or the nightmares. I should have ended it then and told Alyssa to go home, but I didn’t. Instead, I tortured myself as I continued to pound into her, feeling her clamp tightly around my cock every time she came. I continued to hear her call out my name, trying to let it drown out the blood curdling screams of my name that echoed around in my head. I tried desperately to hold on to reality, to the here and now, to Alyssa and what we were doing. But the more I held on, the further away my mind slipped.

  After four songs, I flipped her over and pushed one of her knees up onto the armrest, slamming back into her. I was close as long as I kept my focus on the friction of my dick and her pussy. I held on to her hips and looked down to watch as I moved in and out of her, listening to the sounds of angry music behind me. I gripped on to her so tightly I was sure she’d have bruises perfectly in the shapes of my fingertips. I didn’t care. I needed to get off so she could leave. I needed to drown myself in something else before I completely lost my mind.

  Just as the burning sensation in my lower stomach began to explode, images fired off behind my closed eyelids. To begin with, they were of eyes the color of steel and blood. But the closer those eyes became, the more they turned into blood. Alyssa’s screams transformed in my ears and became the helpless screams of a woman in pain. The grunting of my own voice became the gurgling noises someone would make as they choked on their own blood.

  I pulled out quickly and spilled my come on Alyssa’s back, letting reality settle back in. I stilled as the last of the streams hit her skin and allowed myself to take in the scene. Alyssa was facedown in the couch cushion with her ass completely exposed in the air. My hands held on to her so tightly my knuckles were white. I quickly pulled her up by her arm; she was panting, failing to take in deep enough breaths to calm down. She looked at me with tears streaming down her face.

  Fuck.

  What did I do? I couldn’t remember anything other than the images that ran through my mind as I fucked her like I had never done before. There was a reason why I never called her when I was in one of my angry moods. It was the only time I didn’t have control over myself and knew better than to keep company.

  She reached both of her hands up to my face. I tried to back away but was too stunned by her tears to move. She cupped my cheeks and asked, “What was that?”

  I shook my head, trying to clear my mind before answering. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

  She moved around me and turned off the stereo, leaving the room in utter silence. “No, Cade, something happened. Something came over you. You’ve been rough before, bu
t never that brutal. What is going on? You scared me.”

  “I didn’t mean to. I had a bad day, I guess. It won’t happen again.” I spoke to her much like I would speak to a stranger. My voice held no emotion and stayed even, although my heart raced in my chest as if it would explode at any moment. Adrenaline and fear coursed through my body, but none of it could have been detected in my tone.

  She pulled her skirt down, not bothering with the streaks of come on her back. I could tell I had scared her, but I didn’t know what to do about it. I didn’t want to comfort her; I felt as if I couldn’t. How could someone so torn up emotionally be able to comfort anyone else?

  “Cade, if you need—”

  “Just go.” I stared at the floor, unable to look her in the eyes.

  I could see her feet moving and heard her reach for her shirt by the front door, but her movements stilled at that moment. “Cade,” she said quietly, but I didn’t turn to look at her. “Call me later.”

  It was what she said every time she left, but I knew it no longer held true. She didn’t want me to call her again. I had crossed a line I would never be able to uncross. She had felt and witnessed the darkness in my soul that I tried so hard to keep hidden. Her tone clearly stated that she never wanted to come back and I didn’t blame her. I never wanted her to come back. That darkness was something I was acutely ashamed of. Something I wished I could easily wash away, but it was something I was never able to effectively accomplish. It was always there and it always would be.

  There would never be a time where I wasn’t haunted by my past.

  My eyes never left the floor as I finally heard the front door open and then softly click shut.

  *****

  I had called Ivy as soon as I sat down at my desk the following morning. I had a rather open afternoon and told her to come to my office around one. A voice in the back of my head warned me against it. It told me I should tell her I couldn’t help her and send her on her way. But another voice was heard as well, one that sounded so much like my mother it was frightening. It told me that I needed Ivy and she needed me. That I should continue with the sessions and do all that I could for her. It was like the scenario of an angel on one shoulder and the devil on the other.