Page 44 of Painting Her Fate

The cool night air awakens my senses and heightens a different kind of desire as we silently make our way to my flat. Once we’re at my door I’m reluctant to release him. He is centering me, keeping the darkness cowering in the corner, as it should be. My fingers tighten with his and something of confusion must light my face.

“What’s the matter?” He scowls, worry etched all over. I can sense he’s wanting to pull me into his body but he’s afraid I might lash out at him again.Pull me in, Zander, do it, please.

“I- I’m not sure.” I stammer, shaking my head slowly, trying to get my thoughts straight.Rise from this, Lili.Under the surface lay a strange, unyielding sensation.Bring me back to myself Zander, please. “It’s been a long day.” I say on an exhale.

My eyes lift from the floor to find his, my body now humming. There is a newfound excitement, a wanting, a dominating part of me needing, no,demandingit be the one to take over now. My mistress, the one who I set free to quash any lingering sense of anguish; she’s here now. This side of me has other plans. The darker side is wanting free, insisting she do things to this man, torture him in ways of which we both be satisfied.

Think of all the possibilities to be had with him. The sofa is on the other side of this door.

“I’ll be fine.” I wave away his words as well as my brazen thoughts.

To dominate and have sex is not an addiction; my therapist has mentioned as much. However, she did say what I do to men is a way of me coping with my past. I’m never to be taken advantage of again and this is my way to tell men how they have no control over me. I use men in a way I was used, so to speak. I torment and coax men into desiring my body, make them strive for a taste of me, forever wanting more of me. I break men of their free will as I was subjected to. In the end, I leave them, strung on a string of woe and sorrow. They beg me to come back, to be with them, for the mistress to desire them as much as they do her. I use men for my own gratification. I get off on it and do not feel bad about it, whatsoever. It’s sick and twisted, I know.

I will not allow Alexander to be part of my ruse; he will not be my plaything, or a victim of mine.

It’s time for a change, time for me to change.

“Would you like to come in?” There is a prowess in my tone. I place a hand to his chest, my eyes teeming with dominance. The mistress has her claws out, ready to tempt and seduce this man and it’s taking me all I have to keep her in check. “Pop in for a cup of tea?”Tea, Lili? Really?*sigh*Bloody hell, this night has ended tits up.

Just go with it…

He looks me over, finding something there- what, I cannot be sure.

“Are you sure?” He beings, stroking his thumb over my hand and spreading warmth between my thighs, “you seemed kind of out of it.” Does he know how calming that movement is? Is he hinting at wanting something else? Wanting more?

Ooh, yes, quite the cheeky thoughts, love. Look at him, he wants this. Control this man and allow him to own you.

“My thoughts tend to wander is all, no big deal.” At least no one seems to question this statement much anymore. Except this man.

He gave me a look- a studying of my soul and checking for any cracks he could slither into and unearth my secrets. Not finding anything, he nodded.

“I’d love a‘cup of tea’with you, Ms. Lili.” He said, mimicking my English accent.

We both laugh then I remove my hand from his chest to dig my keys from my pocket. We enter and I get to working filling the kettle, grab two mugs from the cupboard, and two Yorkshire teabags from the canister on the counter. Now this is tea. There will never be Lipton in this house. Ever. Anything else iscodswallop, as Gran would say. I have to agree. Sorry America, stick to what you know, and that, is not tea.

“Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back.” I left down the corridor before he could say anything, or before I lost the grip on the mistress and pounced on him. My control is slipping and I’m not sure I like this side of myself.Tamara has told you to ride the wave, so ride it. What can it hurt at being a little carefree with Zander?Far too much, I fear.

I hurriedly strip down and head in for the fastest shower feasibly possible, knowing the kettle will not take all. I unwrap the bandage from my arm and find the minor scrape underneath. This is a poultry wound in comparison to what I’ve been dealt prior to now; no need to re-dress it.

The stale beer smell will forever disgust me and is a downside, but I don’t give myself time to dwell in the flashbacks; I think back to what my therapist tells me, to picture the painful memories flowing off your body and down the drain. The massive weight on my shoulders melted away and I could breathe once more.

When there is no longer the foul smell permeating the air, I shut the water off, towel dry, then find a set of comfortable lounge clothes. This lass will not forego comfy attire due to a mere stranger in her home, however, I am not omitting a bra. Damn my chest for being as full as it is. I’m forever jealous of the smaller women who are able to get by not wearing a bra.

Allowing the unruly waves to make themselves right at home, I find I’m trying to pretty myself. I may not be on the pull or seeking a lover, but the prospect of having a fun time is always desired. One thing is clear, no man will ever see my guard down, or find themselves able to wiggle through the cracks, but fun is always in the cards.

As flawed as I am, will I ever be able to tell someone my secrets? To open myself up enough to love? The word sets a churn in my gut.Love.

Nothing but hogwash in my book. There is no such thing.

Is there?

Best not to dwell. With one last glance in the mirror, I make my way to the main room, finding a rather delectable sight waiting for me.

Alexander sat languid and relaxed on the sofa, his eyes closed, his good arm outstretched along the sofa back, his body slightly angled to better survey the room. Alexander was magnificent sitting there, stirring a hunger within me. The background noise sounded familiar, finding it to be the first thing that popped up on my ‘recently watched’ list;Supernatural.

The air in the room shifted as he sensed my presence, his eyes open and locked with mine. His lips part as to speak but he remained silent as he roamed my curves. He unabashedly took in his fill, his eyes rounding back up to meet with mine once again. A thunderstorm rages within that stare, pure lust at the way my scanty attire hugs my body.

From the very beginning of meeting this man I knew I was physically attracted- a strict sexual level of lust- that much is obvious. I mean, just look at the man, he exudes confidence in his posture and a fierce hunger in his stare.

---