Page 57 of A Dark Duet

He stretches me inside, mixing pain with pleasure. We fit so well together, like we were made for each other. He begins pounding into me, pulling my hair out of the confines of my messy bun on the top of my head.

“I didn’t fuck that girl that day or anyone after you. I have only had you since the first time. I’ve only wanted this pussy, it’s the one I enjoy milking my cock,” he says, pounding into me in a delicious rhythm. “I want you so much, Giselle. I will always want you, baby. I’m jealous if another man even looks at you.”

I mewl as he continues to pull my hair. I stick my ass out higher to meet his thrusts, the wave of an orgasm building higher and higher as he pounds into me.

It’s so deep, I can feel him everywhere. You can hear the slap of his hips against my ass as he takes me with my face down on the seat. He slowly caresses my waist until he’s grabbing the globes of my ass, fucking me raw. He gives me pleasure on the side of the road by the mountain, with the rays of the sun turning the sky to twilight, the onset of night shrouding the day in total darkness.

We both come at the same time, moaning, our orgasms meeting each other’s in sync. It’s raw and beautiful. I forget that any car that passes by this road will see us. He pulls my jeans back up and puts himself away, helping me stand on my shaking legs. I turn to face him and he softly kisses my lips.

“Even in death,” he breathes.

His forehead is against mine and I know he’s referencing the night he watched me dance. I thought he couldn’t see me, that the depths of my feelings were invisible to him as he watched me. I realize he can see me, even when I can’t see or I’m lost in my own darkness. He sees me.

I drive, following him in the car behind his bike back to the house. We take a shower together and wash each other. When I reach his thighs, he looks down and takes my hand, placing my fingers over his scars.

“After my mother died, my father used to wake me up every day to get ready for school by burning my thighs with cigarettes.

Every day, I would wake up to the feeling and the smell of cigarettes. The burns would swell and sting with pain the whole day. He would do it there so no one could see any evidence that I was being abused.”

My eyes fill with tears, picturing him as a little boy suffering in pain every day. I kneel, kissing every scar on his thighs, swirling my tongue under the spray of water. He looks down at me with tenderness and he knows I’m doing the same thing he did when I had all the bruises on my body. The way he would kiss them gently, giving pleasure where there was pain. He raises me up by my hands, with the water dripping down my naked body. I can see his tortured soul within his eyes, trusting me enough to tell me where his demons came from.

On the bed, I lay my head on his chest, caressing his stomach lightly with my fingers, taking in his scent. His arms hold me, giving me warmth. He begins to speak, telling me more.

“My mother was a heroin addict. She never hit me and hardly fed or bathed me. I learned all on my own how to take care of myself. I would come home from school to a mother high on her poison. When my father would come home, she was so out of it she couldn’t feel the beating he would give her. My father was a meth addict, but also a drunk. He would come home almost every night and beat me after my mother died. They brought me up on pain and it’s the only thing I know.”

Tears slide down my cheeks at how brutal his life was, understanding the need to sleep alone. The trauma and pain he experienced all his life is gut wrenching. I wouldn’t have survived it. I’m amazed he survived the pain, the scars, and the torture his own parents gave him since the day he was born.

It breaks my heart to know that the people who should have loved him more than life itself could cause him to live and breathe in so much pain. To only know pain and not love is the biggest curse of all, living inside yourself in total darkness. The only thing that matters is the darkness and the demons trying to take you every night when you close your eyes, meeting the hounds of hell. I weep for how trapped he must feel, my the tears fall like blood sliding down his chest.

“What happened to your mom?” I sniff, wiping my face in a shaky breath.

“She died on the floor, overdosing while my father was beating her and disfiguring her face. I saw what happened when I came home from school one afternoon.

He threatened me, told me to call the cops and to say we found her like that. I did what he asked. I covered for him when the cops came, out of fear that I would end up just like her.

He threatened me with a promise, and I knew it was all my fault. I helped him cover up my mother’s death. He continued to beat and abuse me. One day, before I turned thirteen, drug dealers killed him. They came to collect, knowing he wouldn’t pay them. I was sent to foster care and learned to fight the kids who bullied me because I had nothing and was broke.

They made fun of my clothes and shoes and told me I was nothing. They even said that my parents didn’t want me. I met Jaden at theY.The guys on my team were all from foster care just like I was, it’s where they taught kids like us self-defense. I’m obviously good at it, and it helped me cope with my pain.

The pain I feel every day of my life, I take it there, in the cage. I started street fighting in underground warehouses. Jaden uploaded my fights on social media and got the attention of MMA promoters. They gave me a shot, and it paid off. My life revolves around pain.

It’s who I am, giving me a release from the nightmares that come, a way to dull my pain, and it’s all that mattered, until you.”

I look up, still lying on his muscular chest, into his eyes, and I understand what he means. He hasn’t had nightmares since I’ve been here, sleeping with him every night.

“Did you have one last night?

“Yes, every time you’re not here, they come.”

“I’m so sorry, Nate. I promise not to leave you.”

“You can never leave me. I’m with you, inside you.”

I kiss him softly as he wipes my tears.

“Will you walk with me to the cage at the fight by my side?” he asks.

“If you want me to, I’ll be there. Always.”

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