Page 26 of Reclaimed

I settled at his feet, suddenly feeling slightly uneasy that he was behind me and out of sight, but all he did was start the film and pass me another glass of fizz.

After a few minutes of watching the film, I forgot to be nervous and relaxed back against the sofa in between Ray’s legs while he stroked my hair. We sat like that for a while before he gently nudged me forwards and reached for the oil.

“Relax.” He squeezed my neck gently. “This is supposed to make you less tense.”

I couldn’t help it. Sitting at his feet felt intimate enough without the thought of his hands smoothing oil over my skin. I wished yet again that, if he were planning something, he’d just tell me so that I didn’t always have to try to second-guess his intentions all the time. He scooped my hair up in his hands and tied it on top of my head. Then his fingers were on the straps of my dress and sliding them down over my shoulders. I flinched instantly and grabbed at my dress.

“Shhh. It’s okay. I just need these out of the way.” I tentatively relaxed back into my original position and allowed him to lower the straps of my dress and bra a little way down my arms. My dress still covered my breasts, but I felt unnervingly exposed. I couldn’t tell if Ray had offered this out of genuine kindness or because he was going to get some perverted pleasure out of making me feel so uncomfortable.

“If you want me to stop at any point, you can tell me, okay?”

“Okay.”

When his hands finally touched my skin, they felt burning hot. They slid over my skin with ease, thanks to the oil, and soon, his thumbs working on my muscles just felt too good to even think about asking him to stop. I allowed myself to relax fully under his hands, not even bothering to suppress the occasional moans of pleasure when he found a movement that felt particularly good. Once he’d finished, I leant my head affectionately against his knee. I’d trusted him, and he’d been true to his word. Maybe I’d been wrong to doubt him.

“How was that, little one?”

“Nice, thank you.”

“Any time. Feeling ready for me to start the dinner?” He really had planned the day down to the hour – he’d been waiting on me hand and foot all day and didn’t seem to be running out of steam.

“I… sure – if that’s okay.”

“Absolutely. Why don’t you come and help me in the kitchen? We’re having Thai – your favourite.”

Helping Ray in the kitchen was one of those rare times when we started to feel like a normal couple. We had music on, we sipped wine, we chopped ingredients, we chatted – it was comfortable. In moments like these, I remembered how easy our relationship had been.

While we ate, we reminisced about previous birthdays. We’d got together a few weeks before my eighteenth. A group of us had gone out to dinner together, and Ray had been so generous that night that, when we got back, I’d hugged him to show my gratitude, and unexpectedly, something had stirred in me. I’d lingered a while and accepted more drinks, until eventually, at around midnight, everyone else left. When the last person left, and Ray had locked the door behind them, he’d turned to me and said, “I thought they’d never leave,” before taking me in his arms and kissing me. The door wasn’t unlocked again until around 4 a.m., after I’d started to sober up, and panic, and put my bra back on. Sometime after that we became an item, but we didn’t sleep together until the night of my birthday. Our conversation mostly managed to gloss over that particular detail, focusing more on the parties and the presents and the people, but I knew he was recalling the same memories as me.

“I hope you’re not too worn out from all the fun, princess; we’ve a little more to go yet.”

“More?”

Ray laughed. “Well, I have a couple more gifts for you to start with.”

“But you already gave me presents.”

“Well, these ones are specifically for this evening.” He handed over two more presents. The first turned out to be a bottle of the same perfume he’d bought me for my eighteenth. I used to wear it all the time, but when it had run out, it had been too expensive for me to replace. Opening the second gift revealed delicate folds of black fabric with tiny embellished stars, which turned out to be a top.

“It’s beautiful.”

“I thought you could wear it tonight. You’re going to get dressed up, we’re going to put some music on, and we’re going to dance. We might not be able to go out right now, but we can still make this a party. I think you deserve some fun.”

Fun. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had fun. The best I’d managed since… being taken was to feel moderately contented, and even then, only for brief spells. Fun wasn’t a word I really associated with myself anymore, and I had no idea if I was even capable of it, but I knew that, to keep Ray happy, I was at least going to have to find a way to fake it for now.

He sent me off upstairs to get dolled up while he set things up in the living room.

It felt very surreal sitting down at a dressing table putting on make-up. In the mirror, I looked like a normal girl getting ready to go for a normal night out, but inside, I felt more like a performer putting on their stage make-up and wondering if they were going to be able to put on a good enough show for their audience. I reached for the new bottle of perfume. I could almost smell it just on sight – earthy, spicy, alluring, uninhibited.

Do I want to remember this?

The lid slipped off without resistance. It smelt of youth, excitement, abandon.

I saw myself in flashes – a distorted montage of memory. That girl was carefree, rapacious, always in motion. And then I felt it – the hunger. The hunger I felt for that girl was the same as the hunger Ray felt for her – for me. Where did that girl go? If I wore it, would I be her again?

Ray certainly seemed to think so when he saw me. His hands were on me in seconds. He leant in close to my neck and inhaled deeply, smelling the perfume, and his hands tightened on my hips.

“You look stunning.”

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