Beautifully Revealed Page 8

  “I know,” I lie. “So will you do it?” I ask Adrian, quickly changing the subject.

  “Go get ready.”

  “Yes!” I shout, bouncing down the hallway. Liam’s going to hate this, but I can’t help myself, I have trouble maker branded on my thigh.

  It’s mid-day by the time I finish the shoot and get to the office. I get in a couple hours of work done before I have to leave to meet Cayden. On my way out I see Rich sitting behind Lillian’s desk whispering into her ear. Lillian giggles at whatever he says and I smile at their display of love.

  “I see you two managed to fix everything last night.” They glance up at me and smile.

  “Yeah we did,” Lillian answers smiling at Rich. I’m not jealous of their happiness but I definitely miss feeling that way. I miss waking in Liam’s arms, I miss running my hand through his hair, I even miss hearing him breathe next to me in his sleep. He brings me a peace that is important to my sanity.

  Sleeping alone in Rich’s guest room tends to bring back memories I haven’t thought about in years, memories that keep me up at night, like I’m still stuck in that time and place.

  Chapter 9

  Isabella

  11 years earlier

  “How does that feel, Isabella?” he prompts me. The sensation is causing my leg to shake, but I won’t give him what he wants. “Come on Isabella, tell me how much you love what I do to you.”

  He handles my body like an expert and bile rises in my throat as my orgasm approaches. I hate him. If I had the courage to, I would kill him with my bare hands. I stopped fighting him after the first few times. I got tired of hiding the bruises. I let him have me any way he wanted and he took advantage of my surrender to find ways to bring me pleasure from something that repulsed me.

  I grip the sheets and bite down on my tongue, refusing to let him hear my response to his mouth on my body. Tears roll down my face and the metallic taste of blood fills my mouth from the pressure of my teeth against my tongue. My legs begin to tremble and I tighten every muscle in my body, fighting against my treacherous body, but it doesn’t last long. My climax is melancholy and it mentally damages me each time. I shut down when he takes his pleasure from me and when he’s done he kisses me tenderly. He’s delusional about what we are to each other. He’s my abuser, but in his psychotic mind I’m his girlfriend. I watch him leave the room and relief washes over me until my mother enters moments later with a smirk on her face.

  “Another visit from your boyfriend? That’s twice this week. I wish your father knew how much of a slut you are. His little princess. His precious little girl,” she taunts me.

  “I should tell him!” I scream at her, but she laughs at my outburst.

  “Oh, it’s much too late for that. You think I don’t know about all the other men you sleep with? You’re a whore. What about that little tape you made? How would you like Daddy to see how much his daughter likes it when Damon fucks her?” She laughs before slamming the door behind her.

  The second time Damon came into my room I figured out my mother was the one that let him in. There was no way she hadn’t heard my screams. When I confronted her about it, she huffed in my face and said, “You’ve been teasing him for years, it’s about time he took what he wanted. You don’t flirt with a grown man without expecting to satisfy his grown up needs.”

  It shouldn’t have hurt so much. I had wiped away all feelings for her years ago, but this nearly killed me. I should have told my dad, but I felt so dirty and tainted. I needed to stay perfect in someone’s eyes so I kept Damon’s visits to myself so I could remain innocent in Daddy’s eyes. I found my own way to deal with it.

  I had sex.

  Lots of sex, that I had control over.

  I hated it when Damon brought me to orgasm, but when I picked a guy to fuck I got to enjoy everything we did. I’m not sure if they were healing my broken soul or chipping away at it, but it felt great to be in charge. Sex became an addiction I used as a crutch to block out the pain that Damon caused me.

  One night Damon got my mother to slip something into my drink. While I was drugged he made a tape of me willingly doing things to him, and enjoying what he did to me in return. The day he forced me to watch that tape, I got so sick that I spent two days in bed from the disgusted ache that threatened to overtake my body. With that tape Damon and my mother held all the power over me and I let them.

  Isabella

  “I accept that I like dirty, rough sex, but how fucked up am I that I enjoyed the things Damon did to me?”

  “Did you enjoy it? Or did your body respond to its natural instincts?” Cayden cocks an eyebrow at me. “It sounds like you were tortured by it.”

  I did feel tortured by it. It led me down a different path, and caused me to do things I never imagined I would be capable of. I hate the cold bitch I turned into. I used men to heal something that is incurable. There isn’t a band aid or a pill that will fix this empty hole in my soul. The sex helped me forget, ignore the brutal truth of the abuse. I tricked myself into believing something so pleasurable couldn’t be so detrimental to me mentally. “I was tortured by it. Sometimes, I still am.”

  “You’re confusing biology with morality, Isabella. Morality is a choice, but sex is biological. It’s designed to be pleasurable and highly addictive. Damon fed your body’s addictive nature until you developed a full blown sexual addition. I know you feel guilty because of the orgasms, but I’d like to give you an example.” He shifts in his seat and puts his notepad on the table.

  “If someone cut you with a knife, your body’s reaction would be to bleed. Do you think you could stop that bleeding because you didn’t like it? No, because natural body reactions are not a choice. The sexual pleasure you felt doesn’t make you sick or responsible for Damon’s actions. You are not anymore responsible for having an orgasm than you would be responsible for bleeding if he stabbed you.”

  I guess I never looked at it that way. I can see the point he’s trying to make, but it’s going to take some time to wrap my mind around it, and finally end my battle with guilt.

  “I’d like to pose a question if you’re okay with continuing.”

  “I’m fine with continuing.”

  “Do you think any of those men you slept with were worthy of you?”

  Worthy of me?

  It takes me a while to come to grips with my answer, but when I do it opens up more issues, “I’ve always thought more along the lines of me not being worthy of them. Not being worthy of anyone actually.”

  “Did you think that they would give you some worth?”

  “I don’t know. I do know it felt good to be able to give them pleasure; for that one moment in time I was capable of bringing someone happiness. But I could never really feel fulfilled and the hole in my soul just grew larger each time.”

  “It sounds like you were reenacting your trauma hoping you can get something different from the experience. You were afraid to talk about your trauma, so you told your story through your actions, but nobody ever saw it, did they? People are quicker to judge someone’s actions than to try figure out what’s causing them. So nobody heard your pleas for help through your reckless behavior.”

  “No one before Liam, he saw through my façade from the beginning. It scared me that he might really find out the truth and leave, but it delighted me that I didn’t have to pretend to be normal.”

  “You are normal Isabella, you just got pulled into an abnormal situation. Coming here and talking about your past is the first step towards healing the guilt and fear that makes you feel abnormal.”

  “Opening up has always been a problem for me.”

  “It’s a problem for most victims of sexual abuse. Have you ever read Macbeth?”

  I nod my head. “In college.”

  “There’s a part where Malcolm says ‘Give sorrow words; the grief that doesn’t speak-’”

  “Whispers the o’er fraught heart, and bids it break,” I finish.

  “You know it?”
he asks. I nod my head and he continues, “The grief you don’t talk about will build softly in your heart until it bids it to break, Isabella.”

  The grief has already broken it, ten times over.

  I glance at the clock and realize we ran over our time, I begin to gather my things but he stops me before leaving the room. “One last thing Isabella, I think it would be wise for you to abstain from sex for a while.”

  “No. Absolutely not. Cayden, the sex I have with Liam is totally different.” I suddenly feel nervous and fidgety. I’m willing to work on dealing with my past to be with Liam, but I can’t imagine being in the same room as him and not being able to touch him and taste him.

  “How is it different?”

  “When I’m with Liam I’m not searching for happiness through sex. He is my happiness and I share my body with him. I don’t take what I need and leave. What I do with Liam can’t even be compared to the empty sex I had before him. When I’m with him I’m not trying to chase away the past. When I’m with him all I see is future possibilities.”

  “I still advise a period of abstinence. The choice is yours and I hope you take my advice.”

  I leave his office thinking how very unlikely that will be.

  On Saturday morning Gabby texts me, asking me to meet her for lunch at a local bar. I was that glad she was making the effort to reach out to me. I’m actually excited when I walk in and see Gabby waiting for me at the bar. She waves at me as I walk towards her. I slip into the stool next to her and order a martini.

  “I got us a table,” she says, pointing towards the back of the room. As soon as the bartender places my drink down we head to our table. We decide to order a sampler platter and share. We settle in to a natural conversation and I’m relieved because I was sure this would be awkward.

  “So what was Liam like in college?”

  Her smile widens and she answers with one word, “Man-whore.” She shakes her head at the memory. “He was pretty horrible. I’m not even sure how we became friends. We were lab partners and afterwards I think the only reason he still talked to me was because he thought I would sleep with him.”

  “Oh…Okay...And did you?”

  “No, you can take that panicked look off your face. We’re both glad that never happened. If it had, I’m pretty sure we wouldn’t be friends now because before you his women didn’t stick around for long.” The waiter appears and places a platter in the middle of the table.

  “Yeah, but it looks like I didn’t last that long either.” I hate to admit it but it’s been two days since he showed up at Rich’s place, and I’m starting to think we won’t get past our problems. The longer the separation, the more I fear losing him permanently.

  “He misses you,” she says.

  “I miss him too,” I admit.

  Gabby sighs and rolls her eyes, “You two are just too similar. You both like to be in control so you’re always bumping heads. This is the first time either of you have been in love and you have to learn how to maintain that. It may not seem like it now, but you’ll be back together in no time.”

  No time at all seems to be taking an eternity. I miss seeing his face every morning and I miss being wrapped in his warmth at night. Most days when I wake in the morning I get a sick feeling when I realize he’s not next to me.

  “Are you going to eat?” Gabby asks when she realizes I haven’t touched the platter of fried goodness.

  “I’m not really hungry, I just wanted to spend some time with you. Thanks for the pep talk.”

  “I’m doing a lot of that lately,” she says, but I can’t imagine Liam needing a pep talk. After all he’s the one who left me and I would pathetically take him back soon as he let me in.

  Chapter 10

  Isabella

  On Monday morning I practically drag myself into the office. Rich went away for the weekend and won’t be back till tonight so the apartment’s been really quiet. Without Rich to brighten my mood, I stayed in bed most of the weekend after my lunch with Gabby.

  “Ella?” Lillian’s voice booms through the intercom on my desk.

  “Yes.”

  “Liam’s secretary just called. He wants you in his office in five minutes.”

  Oh god, I feel nervous and excited at the same time. Lately when we get in the same room all we do is argue until we’re both agitated, but the eroticism is ever present. By the time I get myself together and make it to his office, I’m more than ten minutes late, and his irritated face reflects it.

  I sit across from him as he glares at me from his commanding throne. He tosses me a magazine and when my eyes fall on the cover I giggle at the absurdity of his reaction. “You’re angry because of my photo shoot?”

  “You’re naked, Ella, it’s practically porn.”

  I can’t help it so I laugh harder, even when he gets up, comes around the desk, and pulls me up to face him. These arguments are getting more nonsensical every day. We’re either fiercely angry with each other or blissfully happy, there’s no middle ground.

  “You think this is funny, but I’m this close to firing Adrian over this.” That comment sobers me up quickly.

  “It’s just a picture. Arianna was just as bare when she was on the cover.”

  “I don’t give a fuck about Arianna. I don’t want you walking around in front of Adrian naked.”

  “He was very professional.”

  “Oh I’m sure he was, just as professional as your Dr. Knight.” His sarcasm stings me, reminds me of the low opinion he has of me and his lack of trust in me. He must have seen the flash of hurt in my eyes because his expression softens.

  “I didn’t mean that,” he says, but I just shrug it off and try to walk away, but his hold on me tightens. “I’m sorry,” he whispers before gently kissing my chin then my lips. My body responds immediately, I grip his shirt, and pull him against my body. He tastes so familiar yet different; like coming home after an extended trip and appreciating everything anew.

  My hand moves to his chin and I can feel his jaw flexing as his mouth moves aggressively against mine. I don’t care what happens thirty minutes from now. I know I need him and I’ve always been good at taking what I want. I fumble with the buttons of his shirt, but when my hand gets to his belt buckle, they’re steady and quick. I get a head rush from feeling him hot and heavy against my palm. I’m dizzy with the excitement of tasting him.

  He refuses to end the kiss, his mouth following mine as I move away, but I’m determined to taste him so I drop to my knees, pulling his pants and underwear down as I go. I breathe him in, my nose caressing his shaft while my tongue flickers over his tightened sac. He leans back against the desk and his abdominal muscles flex as I lick him from the base to the bulbous tip of his cock. He watches me as I slide his thick length to the back of my throat. His eyes grow heavier and heavier as I maneuver him in and out my warm mouth, being sure to apply powerful suction to the tip and gentle licks over the pulsating veins.

  His legs begin to quiver, and I’m seconds away from tasting his explosion all over my tongue when he pulls me off by my hair. He pulls me up within inches of his face and stares at me. He’s breathing heavily and the muscle in his jaw twitches when I grip his erection in my hand. He tears my shirt open before moving in behind me and pushing me down against the desk.

  Oh…I can’t wait.

  Cool air caresses my ass when he raises my skirt around my waist. He tears my thong off and drops it on the desk in front of me like a symbol of what he’s going to do to me. One thick finger grazes my clit and I wiggle backwards to extend the contact, but the sharp sting of his palm smacking my ass causes me to jerk forward. My pussy throbs, in need of his thick possession. He leans over me with his cock pressing against my wet entrance and his hot breath at my ear.

  “Your pussy is begging me to fuck it.”

  Oh god please…

  “What are you waiting for?” I whine.

  He slides in so quickly my breath catches then I ride the wave of pleasure th
at always follows his possession. His hands come around and pull my bra down until my breasts pop out, exposing my erect nipples. He rolls them between his fingers and it fuels him to thrust faster and deeper.

  “Oh…oh that’s good…so good…so good,” I chant with each inward thrust. He adjusts and now his sharp thrusts rub perfectly against my g-spot, my body begins to tremble so I reach back and grip his arm. His muscles bunch under my hand, but his rhythm doesn’t falter as I come with a throaty moan. I reach between my legs to caress my clit to prolong the incredible sensation, but it only causes me to come again, and Liam is forced to slow down to accommodate my withering motions. He caresses my back and kisses my neck until my tremors subside.

  He resumes with his deep strokes, the slapping sound of his motions and raspy grunts echo in the room. He’s relentless in his pursuit of completion, minutes pass and I’m riding on the edge of another climax. When his rhythm finally breaks, he lets go of my hips and cups my breast. His sweat-soaked body covers my back and he pants into my ear. His body jerks and he comes with a whispered cry into my ear. That sound and the way he’s rolling my nipples with his fingers tip me over the edge and I climax hard, wailing loudly into the quiet office.

  ********

  “You seem different today,” Cayden observes.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re glowing, happy even. What’s going on?”

  He’s going to fuck up my high, but honesty is the first rule when I walk through that door so… “That’s because I had sex with Liam less than two hours ago and I feel amazing.”

  He stares at me quietly, his frown deepening with each passing second. He runs a hand through his hair or maybe he’s trying to pull his hair out, I can’t tell. “You are probably the most difficult, most stubborn patient I’ve ever had.”

  “Nothing has ever come easily to me, and that reflects on everyone around me.” I answer.