Dark Layers (Volume 4) Read online
Page 6
"Stay still, Anile." He orders.
This is odd, he usually tells me what he's going to do, and for maybe the first time ever, he isn't. I wonder what the damn microphone thing was? He reaches my derrière and slides his thumb down my crack. That tickles and feels nice, different. Shockingly, he reaches my forbidden hole and starts to massage me there. I try to rise but he swiftly pushes me back down.
"Elijah, I don't do anal!" I gasp.
"Oh, Princess, I'm only going to finger your beautiful derrière."
Oh my God! My eyes are wide, and my tummy tightens involuntarily. I swallow hard as he pushes into my derrière a little. It's not painful, he's only a little in, but it's a weird sensation. I dig my fingers into the cushion and expect the most excruciating pain, but as he continues to massage me there, it starts to feel extremely nice. I lick my lips as an alien vibe rushes through my derrière, all the way to my groin. He releases my back and I suddenly hear vibrating.
"What's that?" I say breathless.
"Shhh." He whispers.
I hear him unzip his trousers, and to my mental request, he slowly pushes his huge erection inside my sex. The delicious feelings I'm getting are making me greedy - I push back against him, ushering him deep inside me. Once I can feel his legs against me, he stills inside me. He slides one hand around my tummy and pushes something onto the queen of my sex. I buck forward because it's vibrating against me.
"Stay still, Anile. Don't move, not even when I'm fucking you."
The vibrating is forcing me over the bloody edge, and he isn't even fucking me yet! He pushes his finger into my derrière a little more, it's now a little painful but I like it - oh how disgusting I am! With one more push, his finger is fully inside me. I squeeze my eyes closed. The vibrating, the butt fucking, his erotic self inside me, it's all too much. I try to hold on for as long as I can but I'm seriously losing the will to stop myself from cumming. He starts to fuck me slowly, in and out, in and out. Oh my God!
"Ahhh!" I scream out when I erupt.
I shatter, and almost fall flat against the cushion, but his hand on my tummy insures my derrière is firmly kept in the air.
I feel like I'm cumming in all the wrong places, my forbidden hole, the queen of my sex! Deep inside my tummy something is happening, something that I have never felt before. Embarrassingly, I start to wet myself - it's just too good, I cannot stop myself.
"That's it, Princess, that's what you want." He breathes.
He suddenly stops inside me, his finger is still deep, and the vibrating is still attacking my nerve system, insuring my orgasm continues.
"Now Anile, fuck me as hard as you want!" He moans.
I obey, I'm hungry for more. I push against him hard, his balls slapping against me. My derrière cheeks are sore but I welcome the stinging heat that our skin slapping is creating. Suddenly, I melt all around him. I'm dripping wet, from the rain, my orgasm, our bodily sweat. I cum so aggressively that I scream so loud it hurts my throat.
"Ahhh!" I cry.
For some reason I want to tighten my muscles, and I do, and it feels magnificent. I cannot help but smile to myself. My vision starts to blank but I don't care - I'm in heaven. With one last push against him, he suddenly drops the vibrating thing, releases my forbidden hole and holds my hips tightly in his grip. He falls into me, pushing me further into the cushion.
"Oh fuck, Anile!" He cries out, emptying himself inside me.
I burry my head into the cushion and relish in the fact that I have just had the best orgasm of my life and gave him one, all on my own. This is too good, I cannot help but smile. Once he has gathered himself, slowly, he pulls out of me. It no longer hurts like it used to, it's a generous feeling of release.
"How was that?" He says from behind me.
With my backside still in the air, I peer around at him.
"The best orgasm ever."
He nods proud. "Yes, I thought so too." He jokes.
He grabs my waist and turns me, forcing me on my backside. I almost fall back down, I feel like jelly. He slides one hand beneath my knees and one behind my shoulders and pulls me into his arms. I go willingly. I snuggle against his chest and inhale his sweaty, musky scent. He smells delicious. We make it back inside, and he tries to set me down onto the sofa.
"Elijah, I'm soaked." I moan.
"Yes, you are." He smiles viciously. "Perhaps a shower, then, I have a present for you."
"Oh?" I ask angelic.
"Shower first, and then your present."
Still in his arms, he carries me upstairs. It's so dark because the sun is still vacant. The stairs are dark, but he moves up them with ease - of course he does, doesn't he do everything with ease?
We reach the en-suite and he walks right into the open shower. He sets me on my feet and I lean back against the cool tiles and await the warm shower. He pulls down the lever and the flow caresses us both. I step under the rain like shower head and firstly wash my hair.
"Pull the ladder up Jack." He jokes.
I frown. "What on earth does that mean?"
"It means that you, without a thought of anyone else, jump under the flow first."
I laugh so loud it echoes throughout the tiled, granite bathroom.
"That's funny." I continue to giggle.
Once I'm all clean, I move out of the shower and allow Elijah to clean himself. While dripping all over the tiled floor, I turn back to face him.
"Thanks for the fuck." I joke, and amazingly, I watch his mouth drop open.
I continue to laugh while grasping a towel from the towel radiator, and walk - leaving him open-mouthed - into the bedroom. I bet he wasn't expecting that! Once I'm dry, I suitably dress in tight black leggings and a long pink T-shirt to cover my derrière - I want to be comfortable for the rest of the evening. I don't apply any makeup, and I don't fix my hair, I let it naturally dry into my in-love, created curls, and I head downstairs, I'm starving.
WHILE AT THE BREAKFAST table, demolishing scrambled egg with bacon, Elijah pulls a huge, golden picture frame out from under the table. He pulls out a chair and rests the picture on the chair. I drop my fork onto my plate and stare open-mouthed. It's me, the painting is me. It's beyond beautiful, and he's used so many colours. My hair is painted pink, blue and green, and it's curly all around my shoulders; my face is outlined with black smeared water paint, and my eyes, bright blue with hints of red. It's stunning.
"Elijah, I'm speechless."
He frowns. "In a good way?"
"Yes, in a good way." I take his hand that's rested on the table top. "I cannot believe how good you are - especially for someone who has painters block." I joke.
"You seem to have brought back my creative energies."
"That's nice to know I'm good for something."
With one perfectly arched brow, he whispers. "Baby, you are good for plenty of things, trust me."
I turn puce and roll my eyes at him. "As are you." I say sweetly.
"You know, I have to have your arse, Anile. It's a crime to deny me."
I instantly release his hand. Frozen, I'm mentally frozen. I try to rack my brain for a firm NO! But I come up short changed. If that man get's near your forbidden pipes, you can kiss goodbye to walking for an entire week! I take a huge gulp and choose to believe he didn't request such a thing.
"You don't have to answer me now, this is an open discussion." He jokes.
Like your damn legs, Anile!
I swallow hard. "Where shall we hang the painting?" I try to change the conversation.
"How did you like my finger inside your arse?" He leans forward, elbows rested atop of the table.
Forbidden muscles tighten inside my tummy. I stare down at his empty plate, and gaze at my full one - I no longer have an appetite.
"Um, it was... okay."
"I need a better answer. Or maybe I should fuck you over this table right now, and force an answer out of you."
I swallow hard but it gets stuck in my throat. "I need to sit
down." I croak.
With a deep frown on his face, he leans to the side of the table and casts his eyes over me.
"Anile, you are sitting down."
"The sofa, I need to sit on the sofa." I rise to my feet.
"You don't want me to fuck you?" He asks with pouted lips.
You can fuck me, any time, any place, anyhow - BUT NOT IN THE ARSE!
"I'm fucked up, fucked out - sexed out!" I mutter a sequence of words that, even to me, make no sense at all.
He covers his mouth and tries his hardest not to laugh. I pay no attention, I make my way over to the sofa. I lay down, flat on my back, and relish in the comfort. My head is a mass mess of anal sex. I wonder how much it would really hurt? I wonder if he will drop this. Not before he drops you! I gasp at the thought.
"You okay, Princess?" I hear him ask from across the room.
"Yeah, I'm just tired. I'm going to nap for a while."
"Alright, I'll wake you at around sixish."
I say no more, I close my heavy eyes and allow myself to fall into the land of dreams.
WITH MY BACK flat against a hard surface, I try to sit up, but as I press down onto the hard floor, my hands become wet. I rub my fingers over my palms and notice the water is thick, warm and squishy. What the hell is that? Without using my hands, I pull myself up using my back and legs. I gaze around, but all I can see is a still river of thick shallow red water. The sky is pitch black all around me - but at the very end of the river, I spot a gold door. I turn and lean on my knees because for some reason, I cannot stand up. I crawl for as long as I can, I'm trying to reach the door, but even after hours of crawling passes, I'm still no further down the river. Why am I not moving forward? I take one more step forward, and my hand presses against something warm and squidgy. I pick it up from the water and scream as loud as I can, but no sound comes out of my mouth. I cannot even mentally register the corpse; I throw it back into the red water and start to panic.
"Wake up Anile!" I beg myself.
I open my eyes and I'm still here, in a hell of blood. I start to cry and my heart rate picks up dangerously.
"Wake up!" I scream again, but it's silent to me.
I start to punch myself in the face and I pinch my arms but the pain is vacant. Why can't I wake up?
While still trying to hurt myself in hope that it will wake me, I'm suddenly forced down onto my back. My arms are pinned down. I cannot breathe! I look at my arms but no one is actually holding me down.
"Why can't I move?" I scream, and this time, I hear my own voice.
I WAKE IN BUCKETS OF SWEAT. My hair is damp, my arms are hot and sweaty. I open my eyes to see Elijah hovering above me, he's holding me down.
"What are you doing?" I scream. "Get off me."
"Anile, calm down."
He releases me and I immediately seize my face.
"Ah!" I moan.
My face hurts like it's bruised. I slide my hand down to my nose - it's bleeding! I peer down at my fingers, they are covered in blood, my nose is bleeding badly. I sit up quickly and Elijah unexpectedly pulls me into his arms. I grasp his waist because I cannot calm my panicked heart rate.
"Elijah, what happened?" I sob.
"Anile, I was on the phone in the kitchen. I heard you screaming, and when I looked over, you were hitting yourself." He sighs long and steely. "Your face, it's bleeding. Stay here while I go get some warm water."
He releases me from his embrace, gets to his feet and almost runs to the kitchen. He returns with a little green medical box and a small white bowel of warm water.
"Sit back." He orders.
I sit back and squeeze my eyes shut. Fuck, my head hurts, I have a rotten headache. I feel his tender hand at my nose. He's padding me with a soft cloth. It hurts a little, but I need to get cleaned up.
"Anile, what were you dreaming about?" He asks worried.
I open my eyes and gaze up at him. "You don't want to know." I warn.
He stops wiping my nose and just stares down at me with intense eyes. "Tell me, Anile." He whispers.
I swallow hard. "Elijah, I-" I don't know where to start.
He takes my hand in his and rests it against his heart. "Princess, please tell me so I can help you."
I lower my gaze and just stare at our hands on his chest. "I dreamed I was in a river of blood. I was trying to move forward, towards a golden door, but I couldn't. Once I could finally move, I leant on a baby's body," I start to sob lightly, "the baby was dead. I tossed the body away from me and was screaming to try and wake myself. I was trying to hit myself, but then something held me down."
He says nothing, all I can hear from him is his harsh breathing. He pulls me onto his lap and cradles me. The bowel of water falls off of the sofa and onto the floor, but he makes no effort to clean it up. I cry lightly against him, grasping at his collar. I don't want to cry but that dream, it awoke feelings I thought I had forgotten. He casts his hand over my face and tries his very best to comfort me.
"Anile, I'm so sorry you had to suffer losing our child." He whispers against my head.
"No Elijah, I'm sorry. We have had a bizarrely good day - a good week even - and my dream has ruined it." I say in shame.
"Anile, you cannot help your subconscious. Neither of us can. You must talk to me when you have dreams like this, you have to."
I pull away from his chest and stare up at him in question. "Why?"
His eyes are dark and tormented. "Because dreams mean something, they always do. Even the most silliest of dreams mean something."
"What do you think mine meant?"
He swallows hard. "I think the river and your stillness represents you trying to move on, but you can't. I think the baby is an image of our dead child, and I think the door was your only option to escape, but because you couldn't reach the door, you felt stuck."
"The door reminded me of the forbidden door, the one at that house of hell."
He lowers his gaze. "Then the door must represent your curiosity." He sighs hard. "I will take you there, but only when you are ready."
I pause for a moment while gazing into his hurt blue eyes.
"When will I ever be ready?" I *sigh* long and steely. "I want to know all of you, Elijah I need to. I want to move forward with no secrets."
He narrows his deep blue eyes at me and frowns deeply. "What, you want to go now?"
I shrug my shoulders. "Now is as good a time as any."
"Anile, you just... now is not right." He shakes his head aggressively. "Please, it's not the right time."
"Elijah, I want to take my mind off things. This will help me."
He gasps loudly. "Trust me when I tell you, that room will not help your dreams, if anything, it will make them worse."
"Elijah, you told me I can go there whenever I want, and I want to go now."
I have to go now, I have to take my mind off of these painful emotions, I need this.
There are things known
and things unknown
and between are the doors
The Doors
Chapter Six
I'M AT THE BACK ENTRANCE of the forbidden room, at the DLOS house, staring hard at the tall brown door. Elijah told me that I cannot go through the house without him, he said that it isn't safe, so I have been forced to endure the secret entrance, the quiet entrance. The door is a replica of the one inside, dark wooden panels with golden eggs in every corner. I touch the door and gently slide my fingers over it; it's rough, the old wood catches the pads of my fingers uncomfortably. I have an unfamiliar feeling swimming around my tummy, a worrying feeling of the unknown. I want to know everything about Elijah, but I know it will cost me a hefty bit of my mental state. This is at my own request though, so I will let the chips fall where they may.
It's cold out here, but I somehow think it's warmer out here than inside this door. It's late, around seven at night and dusk has already set above me. The garden at the back of the DLOS house is messy, and surprisingly small, small li
ke an alleyway. The evening damp grass is overgrown and full of wild daisies where it hasn't been cut in a while; from where I'm standing, you can clearly see the boundary line from the well kept front garden, to the wild back garden, but if you were looking down the garden from the stony driveway out the front, you wouldn't even know how small and wild this area of the garden is. The bright green bushes that form the six foot high walls all around the property are unkempt in the back garden here behind me, they are lumpy and out of shape, they are in need of trimming. I stare up at the colossal house, it's such a nice house, it's just a shame what it's used for. The walls are the brightest white you have ever seen - this much of the outside has been taken care of properly. And the Greek columns continue around here too, they are magnificent and powerful, holding up the second floor with their thick structure; they stand tall and grand, every ten foot.
I insert the golden key into the keyhole. I turn it six times, and every time I turn it, I feel like I'm losing myself. Once the lock is open, I pull out the key and put it back in my pocket. I grasp the solid, golden handle - it's hard to pull down, it's not been used for a long while, I can tell. I push the door open.
"Jesus!" I gasp, seizing my nose.
What the hell is that smell? It smells like... I inhale deeply... citrus, mixed with dampness. I don't like it, it annoys my nose. I'm not really shocked as yet by anything, because I cannot see anything - it's pitch black inside.
'There is a switch just inside the door, to your left.' Elijah said before I got out of the car. He's waiting for me, just around the corner. He wants me to have one hour inside by myself, and then he said he's coming in to find me.
I feel my way up the uneven stone wall just inside the door. I meet the light switch - it's an old switch. I pull down the metal lever and the room comes to life. I'm wide-eyed and my heart is painfully pounding into my chest. The room is huge, it's got to be, sixteen foot by sixteen foot, easily. There is a double bed pushed into the far right corner; it's nothing special, a black divan with draws and a mattress. The only thing on the bed is a crisp white sheet that's perfectly fitted to the mattress. Every wall has shiny red curtains covering them - I wonder why? The curtains are hung from thick gold poles. Because of the curtains, the room looks like something out of a museum, something that's supposed to be hidden. To my left, stretched across the entire wall, is a deep brown old wooden desk with - what looks like - Hebrew writing carved into the smooth edges. It has five Apple Mac computer screens that are all turned off, lined up. There is also tons of paperwork all over the desk, it's messy, too messy to be of Elijah's doing. I'm so confused. The floor is uneven black slate with hints of grey. There is nothing else in here, absolutely nothing; no art work, no other furniture, not even a computer chair - why? And I have to say, I'm shocked beyond belief that it's not a BDSM room.