Sequel: Happily Ever After ›
Status: Complete
Even Lovers Drown
Chapter 49
"Please stop," Saylor whimpered, curled in a ball on the tile floor.
Pain encompassed her body, drowning her in unbearable ache. She could do nothing more to protect herself from Katie's rage than pull her knees to her chest, and the position hurt her injured body. Bruised and bleeding, she didn't think anything could alleviate the pain. But she had to stay there. She couldn't crawl away, couldn't run, couldn't fight. Taking action to save herself would fuel Katie's rage, and she'd never make it through the beating. Try to please Katie, try to make the beating less severe, that was Saylor's goal.
Katie stood above her, legs on either side of her tightly balled frame. "Stop?" she said, her tantalizing voice harsh, "You should have thought before you acted like an idiot."
Saylor couldn't remember what she had done to deserve a beating, what had made Katie so angry. Pain blocked her memory, too intense to allow her to distract herself. It didn't matter. She knew she deserved to be hit. She always deserved to be hit.
"I didn't mean to," Saylor mumbled.
Katie grabbed her by the collar and yanked her out of her protective position. A sharp yelp caught in Saylor's throat, learned instinct keeping the noise from reaching air. Katie's face came close to hers, their noses touching. The fierce glare tensing her beautiful, deep blue eyes was frightening proof Saylor hadn't managed to say the right thing.
"Someone has to train you not to," Katie said.
In fluid motions, she slammed Saylor against the rough tiles and straddled her hips. Hardly an act of unconfined sexual desire. Katie didn't feel that desire towards her anymore. She was too ugly for Katie's intimate thoughts. Unconstrained anger was the single reaction she could conjure, her hideous appearance and continual idiotic actions worthy of no more.
Katie's fist slammed into Saylor's face, a sharp crack resounding in the empty kitchen. Blood dribbled from her nose, tears seeped from her eyes, uncontainable responses. Katie's fist raised again, intent on smashing her face beyond repair, but a sharp yell of "Get the fuck off of my girl" froze her arm in place. Weight was lifted from Saylor, a wave of relief crashing over her pained body. Through watery eyes, she watched as her blonde-haired savior held Katie against the wall by her collar.
She recognized the woman. She knew she did. The tousled curls, the gentle curves of her body, and the tank top and cargo pants she wore looked familiar. But her memories were lost under an ocean of pain. She couldn't place the lovely vision's identity.
"How dare you?" the woman growled, anger spiking her beautiful alto.
"I'm teaching her a lesson," Katie snapped.
"She's not a dog."
And the woman released her hold on Katie's collar long enough to ram her fist into her cheek. Shocked, Katie staggered and clutched her abused face. Despite the pain caused at the hands of her lover, Saylor whimpered for her. No one ever fought back, no one ever hit her, and now, her Katie was hurt. She had been hit, she would bruise. Her pale skin would be marred by a giant purple-blue mark, and it was Saylor's fault.
Katie's treacherous blue eyes locked on the woman, danger brewing in their depths. "You bitch," she snarled.
She swung at the intruder, her purpose to cause damage, but the woman dodged the attempted hit. The missed attack threw Katie's balance off, an opportunity the woman took to punch her in the stomach and shove her to the floor. Katie fell limp on the tiles with a loud thud.
"Get lost," the woman said.
On command, Katie disappeared, her body seeming to evaporate into air. Wide-eyed, Saylor stared at the spot her lover once laid. She was gone forever. Because an unknown woman demanded she leave. Conflicted emotions thrashed in her mind. The uplifting thoughts of no more pain, no more abuse, no more fear meshed with the depressing realization that no one would love her again, not in the romantic way she desired.
Saylor's eye snapped to the woman, whose back remained facing her. Her savior, her villain. She stood still, body tense, fists clutched at her side. Saylor didn't disrupt the woman, dared not speak or move from her spot on the floor, but watched. Finally, the woman relaxed, sighing. For the first time since her sudden entrance, she turned around. Familiar, comforting blue eyes resonated in Saylor's mind, reviving her memory.
"Blake?" she asked.
Soft smile twisting her full lips, Blake walked the short distance to Saylor's damaged form and kneeled by her side. Her eyes trailed over Saylor, taking in each wound. Tears forced a glossy sheen to the beautiful blue and her smile faltered. Pained, worried, caring. For Saylor.
She gingerly brushed strands of hair from Saylor's face and, in tender alto, said, "It's going to be okay."
Saylor believed her.
Blake leaned down and pressed her lips to hers. Gentle, loving. Each of Saylor's nerves tingled, her heart leaped into her throat, and her stomach flipped. Sighing, she closed her eyes, relaxing into the kiss. This was right. This was what she needed. Not Katie's "love," but passion reserved for her. Only her.
Arms slid under her back and knees, and she felt herself being tenderly lifted from the rough tiles. Blake's lips didn't leave hers, didn't distract from showing her what it meant to be adored, as Blake carried her from the kitchen. The walk was short, shorter than Saylor expected, and she was being placed where the dining room table should have been.
But a soft surface cushioned Saylor.
Saylor broke the kiss, pulling her lips from Blake's out of sheer curiosity, and glanced around her new surroundings. Calming blue walls illuminated by candles surrounded them. Frames decorated the spaces, but what they contained, Saylor couldn't make out in the dim light. A dresser here, a set of drawers there, bedside tables, a bed. This wasn't her dining room, wasn't even her bedroom.
Fingers brushed over her cheek, drawing her attention to Blake. The gesture should have hurt, should have caused pain to her bruising cheek regardless of how gentle. But it didn't hurt. Nothing hurt.
Saylor glanced down at her body. Her clothing was gone, replaced by lacy, purple panties and matching bra. A lingerie set she thought she would never wear for anyone again. No wounds decorated her skin. No bruises, no scabs, no open cuts, only one long scar on her side and the scars decorating her wrist. Bone didn't stretch her skin from periods of starvation. She was healthy again, her assets filling her lingerie the way they should. She was okay.
She met Blake's eyes, the caring gaze exciting her nerves. Her core tightened in anticipation. Something was going to happen. Something had to happen. And Saylor was ready.
"You okay?" Blake asked.
"Yeah," Saylor whispered, her voice caught in the docile vocal pattern she was once forced to use.
"Sure?" She kissed Saylor's cheek. "You seem distracted." She pressed a kiss against her neck.
Saylor murmured her approval, a quiet noise that may have gone unnoticed if Blake hadn't been so close, and tilted her head to the side. The invitation was the most she could manage, her mind drifting into desire, and Blake accepted, placing more intoxicating kisses against her neck. Fingers danced over her stomach, a jean clad leg rubbed against her nude ones. Her skin burned under each delicate touch, her body yearned for more, and all she could do was release a shaky breath, her moan stifled by years of "training."
"Why are you so quiet?" Blake mumbled against Saylor's ear, "Scream for me."
Blake's fingers skimmed down her stomach, light touch leaving a trail of burning need in their wake. The slow touch set her anticipation ablaze until Blake's hand slipped into the thin fabric of her panties, fingers grazing over her wet slit before two fingers slid into her. Saylor gasped, audible in their otherwise silent room.
"You can do it," Blake mumbled and kissed her neck.
Her long fingers curled inside her in a rhythmic "come here" motion, trapping Saylor's breath in her throat and forcing her head to tip back. So, so good. Each addicting motion flooded her senses. She couldn't think of anything other than Blake, didn't want to think of anything else. And when Blake's thumb began rubbing her clit, a loud moan ripped from Saylor's throat, her painfully tight core begging for release.
"Scream," Blake said.
She bit her exposed neck, taking the sensitive skin above her pulse roughly between her teeth. Enough, just enough, to send Saylor over. Her body tensed, her skin tingled, her walls tightened around Blake's fingers, and she was submerged in intense pleasure as she orgasmed at Blake's hands. A scream poured from her lips, unable to be contained. Not of fear, not of pain, but of unrestrained sexual pleasure.
Light streamed through the window, disrupting Saylor's dream world. Music berated her ears. The seat that took the role of bed sent a dull ache up her back. Groaning, she opened her eyes and was almost disappointed to see a parking lot from her passenger seat window instead of the bedroom walls of her dream. She could have lived in the dream forever, quivering under Blake. But that wasn't her reality.
Not yet.
Pain encompassed her body, drowning her in unbearable ache. She could do nothing more to protect herself from Katie's rage than pull her knees to her chest, and the position hurt her injured body. Bruised and bleeding, she didn't think anything could alleviate the pain. But she had to stay there. She couldn't crawl away, couldn't run, couldn't fight. Taking action to save herself would fuel Katie's rage, and she'd never make it through the beating. Try to please Katie, try to make the beating less severe, that was Saylor's goal.
Katie stood above her, legs on either side of her tightly balled frame. "Stop?" she said, her tantalizing voice harsh, "You should have thought before you acted like an idiot."
Saylor couldn't remember what she had done to deserve a beating, what had made Katie so angry. Pain blocked her memory, too intense to allow her to distract herself. It didn't matter. She knew she deserved to be hit. She always deserved to be hit.
"I didn't mean to," Saylor mumbled.
Katie grabbed her by the collar and yanked her out of her protective position. A sharp yelp caught in Saylor's throat, learned instinct keeping the noise from reaching air. Katie's face came close to hers, their noses touching. The fierce glare tensing her beautiful, deep blue eyes was frightening proof Saylor hadn't managed to say the right thing.
"Someone has to train you not to," Katie said.
In fluid motions, she slammed Saylor against the rough tiles and straddled her hips. Hardly an act of unconfined sexual desire. Katie didn't feel that desire towards her anymore. She was too ugly for Katie's intimate thoughts. Unconstrained anger was the single reaction she could conjure, her hideous appearance and continual idiotic actions worthy of no more.
Katie's fist slammed into Saylor's face, a sharp crack resounding in the empty kitchen. Blood dribbled from her nose, tears seeped from her eyes, uncontainable responses. Katie's fist raised again, intent on smashing her face beyond repair, but a sharp yell of "Get the fuck off of my girl" froze her arm in place. Weight was lifted from Saylor, a wave of relief crashing over her pained body. Through watery eyes, she watched as her blonde-haired savior held Katie against the wall by her collar.
She recognized the woman. She knew she did. The tousled curls, the gentle curves of her body, and the tank top and cargo pants she wore looked familiar. But her memories were lost under an ocean of pain. She couldn't place the lovely vision's identity.
"How dare you?" the woman growled, anger spiking her beautiful alto.
"I'm teaching her a lesson," Katie snapped.
"She's not a dog."
And the woman released her hold on Katie's collar long enough to ram her fist into her cheek. Shocked, Katie staggered and clutched her abused face. Despite the pain caused at the hands of her lover, Saylor whimpered for her. No one ever fought back, no one ever hit her, and now, her Katie was hurt. She had been hit, she would bruise. Her pale skin would be marred by a giant purple-blue mark, and it was Saylor's fault.
Katie's treacherous blue eyes locked on the woman, danger brewing in their depths. "You bitch," she snarled.
She swung at the intruder, her purpose to cause damage, but the woman dodged the attempted hit. The missed attack threw Katie's balance off, an opportunity the woman took to punch her in the stomach and shove her to the floor. Katie fell limp on the tiles with a loud thud.
"Get lost," the woman said.
On command, Katie disappeared, her body seeming to evaporate into air. Wide-eyed, Saylor stared at the spot her lover once laid. She was gone forever. Because an unknown woman demanded she leave. Conflicted emotions thrashed in her mind. The uplifting thoughts of no more pain, no more abuse, no more fear meshed with the depressing realization that no one would love her again, not in the romantic way she desired.
Saylor's eye snapped to the woman, whose back remained facing her. Her savior, her villain. She stood still, body tense, fists clutched at her side. Saylor didn't disrupt the woman, dared not speak or move from her spot on the floor, but watched. Finally, the woman relaxed, sighing. For the first time since her sudden entrance, she turned around. Familiar, comforting blue eyes resonated in Saylor's mind, reviving her memory.
"Blake?" she asked.
Soft smile twisting her full lips, Blake walked the short distance to Saylor's damaged form and kneeled by her side. Her eyes trailed over Saylor, taking in each wound. Tears forced a glossy sheen to the beautiful blue and her smile faltered. Pained, worried, caring. For Saylor.
She gingerly brushed strands of hair from Saylor's face and, in tender alto, said, "It's going to be okay."
Saylor believed her.
Blake leaned down and pressed her lips to hers. Gentle, loving. Each of Saylor's nerves tingled, her heart leaped into her throat, and her stomach flipped. Sighing, she closed her eyes, relaxing into the kiss. This was right. This was what she needed. Not Katie's "love," but passion reserved for her. Only her.
Arms slid under her back and knees, and she felt herself being tenderly lifted from the rough tiles. Blake's lips didn't leave hers, didn't distract from showing her what it meant to be adored, as Blake carried her from the kitchen. The walk was short, shorter than Saylor expected, and she was being placed where the dining room table should have been.
But a soft surface cushioned Saylor.
Saylor broke the kiss, pulling her lips from Blake's out of sheer curiosity, and glanced around her new surroundings. Calming blue walls illuminated by candles surrounded them. Frames decorated the spaces, but what they contained, Saylor couldn't make out in the dim light. A dresser here, a set of drawers there, bedside tables, a bed. This wasn't her dining room, wasn't even her bedroom.
Fingers brushed over her cheek, drawing her attention to Blake. The gesture should have hurt, should have caused pain to her bruising cheek regardless of how gentle. But it didn't hurt. Nothing hurt.
Saylor glanced down at her body. Her clothing was gone, replaced by lacy, purple panties and matching bra. A lingerie set she thought she would never wear for anyone again. No wounds decorated her skin. No bruises, no scabs, no open cuts, only one long scar on her side and the scars decorating her wrist. Bone didn't stretch her skin from periods of starvation. She was healthy again, her assets filling her lingerie the way they should. She was okay.
She met Blake's eyes, the caring gaze exciting her nerves. Her core tightened in anticipation. Something was going to happen. Something had to happen. And Saylor was ready.
"You okay?" Blake asked.
"Yeah," Saylor whispered, her voice caught in the docile vocal pattern she was once forced to use.
"Sure?" She kissed Saylor's cheek. "You seem distracted." She pressed a kiss against her neck.
Saylor murmured her approval, a quiet noise that may have gone unnoticed if Blake hadn't been so close, and tilted her head to the side. The invitation was the most she could manage, her mind drifting into desire, and Blake accepted, placing more intoxicating kisses against her neck. Fingers danced over her stomach, a jean clad leg rubbed against her nude ones. Her skin burned under each delicate touch, her body yearned for more, and all she could do was release a shaky breath, her moan stifled by years of "training."
"Why are you so quiet?" Blake mumbled against Saylor's ear, "Scream for me."
Blake's fingers skimmed down her stomach, light touch leaving a trail of burning need in their wake. The slow touch set her anticipation ablaze until Blake's hand slipped into the thin fabric of her panties, fingers grazing over her wet slit before two fingers slid into her. Saylor gasped, audible in their otherwise silent room.
"You can do it," Blake mumbled and kissed her neck.
Her long fingers curled inside her in a rhythmic "come here" motion, trapping Saylor's breath in her throat and forcing her head to tip back. So, so good. Each addicting motion flooded her senses. She couldn't think of anything other than Blake, didn't want to think of anything else. And when Blake's thumb began rubbing her clit, a loud moan ripped from Saylor's throat, her painfully tight core begging for release.
"Scream," Blake said.
She bit her exposed neck, taking the sensitive skin above her pulse roughly between her teeth. Enough, just enough, to send Saylor over. Her body tensed, her skin tingled, her walls tightened around Blake's fingers, and she was submerged in intense pleasure as she orgasmed at Blake's hands. A scream poured from her lips, unable to be contained. Not of fear, not of pain, but of unrestrained sexual pleasure.
Light streamed through the window, disrupting Saylor's dream world. Music berated her ears. The seat that took the role of bed sent a dull ache up her back. Groaning, she opened her eyes and was almost disappointed to see a parking lot from her passenger seat window instead of the bedroom walls of her dream. She could have lived in the dream forever, quivering under Blake. But that wasn't her reality.
Not yet.
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Thank you to cocaine.white, Tori the Elf, I am Cheese! :3, choliecole, Reba, bippy102, appley92, and Her_princess_love for the comments.Thank you to The Hollywood Dyke and Her_princess_love for the messages.
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