Page 58 of Gothikana

Just as she was.

And Corvina didn’t know where to go from there.

‘You’re thinking too much.’ His deep voice carried the words to her even as his fingers never stopped, and he never opened his eyes.

‘You said we wouldn’t do this again,’ she reminded him just as quietly, leaning her chin on the armrest.

‘That was long before I had a taste of you. Long before I woke up alone in my bed after the best sleep I’ve had in years.’

Her heart thudded at his words, the parched portions of her soul drinking them up like blessed rain after a drought.

The melody built up to a crescendo before slowly falling down, easing into something tender, softer, quieter, before completely fading away with a last note. The silence afterward felt loud.

‘You play so beautifully,’ she mused out loud, in a slight daze. ‘Even your demons must sing.’

His eyes opened at that. ‘And what do your demons do, little crow?’

She looked away. ‘Scream.’

‘Come here,’ he commanded her, and she glanced toward the stairs.

‘What if someone comes down? I’ve been told too many times that teachers and students cannot mingle outside class.’

‘I think we’re beyond the point of mingling now, don’t you think?’ he spoke wryly, pressing his finger to another key. ‘Come here.’

On slightly shaky legs, she stood up and walked to him. The moment she reached his side, he picked her up and put her on the piano, her ass on the edge and her feet on the bench either side of his thighs. Heart working double time, she gazed down at his searing silver eyes, taking in his masculine face and that streak of white.

‘Tell me about Morning Star Institute,’ he ordered her casually, as though just speaking the very name didn’t make her stomach drop.

‘I… I don’t know where to begin,’ she stuttered, realising she was again trapped with him even though she was in the elevated position.

‘The beginning,’ he told her. ‘I want to know your side of the story.’

‘And you… you won’t use it against me?’ She gulped, voicing one of her deepest fears.

His eyes flared. ‘No.’

Corvina took a deep breath in, staring down at her nails. ‘Can you just… not look at me while I’m speaking? It makes the nerves worse.’

Vad nodded, putting his hands on her thighs and spreading them wider, his fingers playing on her knees. ‘I’ll be looking at something else. And if you’re good, I’ll make you come.’

A jittery breath leaving her lips, Corvina looked up at the ceiling. ‘Isn’t that weird for this kind of conversation?’

His fingers moved to the edge of her stockings. ‘It will keep your mind from hyperventilating. Now, talk to me.’

Corvina bit her lip as his fingers traced the edge of her stockings, back and forth and back and forth, and she caved to his demand. She wanted to tell him, to trust him, and this seemed like the first step. She just hoped he didn’t disappoint her.

‘My mother is schizophrenic.’ She spoke the words out loud as his fingers softly caressed the skin of her thighs. It felt bizarre talking about it to him while he touched her with such sexual intent. But it was working in calming her down and refocusing her brain.

‘So was my father,’ she continued, slightly breathless as his fingers caressed her skin where her stockings ended. ‘He was never diagnosed but during one of my mother’s sessions, she admitted that he killed himself because the voices told him to, that if he didn’t die, we would. In his own convoluted way, he was protecting us.’

‘And you think you inherited it from them?’ His words came against the inside of her thigh. This was so, so odd but Lord, did it make her feel less stressed about the conversation.

‘The chances with one parent are high enough — with two it’s astronomical,’ she informed him as his teeth tugged her stocking down. ‘My mother has been hearing voices and seeing things for years. It apparently got worse after I was born. She never hurt me, but she wasn’t always present. She feared for the longest time that if I interacted with anyone except her, they would take me away.’

‘So she kept you with her, home-schooled you, never let you go out,’ he stated, and she lay back on the piano, keeping her gaze straight up.

‘How do you even know all that? But yes,’ she admitted in a whisper. ‘She loved me so much, but she didn’t know how to love me right. It wasn’t her fault. She never had any help at all.’

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