When the Dark Wins

Two long fangs, milky white, glimmered in the low light. “There is nothing to fear. Look at your finger, Pearl. It is already mending.”

Mouth agape, she was unsure exactly which topic was most in need of immediate attention: the fact she was naked, obviously being bathed by a striking stranger. The fact there was another person like her. One who spoke warmly to her, knew her name, and seemed almost familiar. Or, the fact that her finger was healing right before her eyes.

Nudity was addressed first, both arms slipping so they might cover where her breasts bobbed in steaming water.

This earned a breathy chuckle. “Your shyness strikes me as particularly charming in this moment.”

Knowing her cheeks were a vivid pink, Pearl tried his name. “You said your name was Darius. I don’t… I don’t know you. I don’t know how I got here. Is this the hospital? Have I been ill?”

Red eyes, that’s what they were—red as blood and glowing like an ember ready to set the world to flame. “Darius, yes, and I am at your service, my Pearl. And, yes, you do know me. You know your lover very well, you just don’t remember me. You see, we meet anew each night in your chamber.”

She had to be drugged or ill. Not a word he said made sense.

Neither the painting nor the handsome man held her attention. It was the walls she looked to, the chipped hunks of stone, the lack of windows. She was in a cell, blocked in a corner by a screen that hid the remainder of the room. “Why wouldn’t I remember you?”

Her chin was caught, Pearl made to meet the eye of the stranger. “So that you might be happy, always. Time has a way of twisting our kind. You have the gift of constant newness. Your God has blessed you. He dotes on you.”

“My God?”

“Every day is fresh. Every time I touch you, it’s the first time. Every time I kiss you, you still blush. I am the perpetual bridegroom, and you are my darling treasure. There is much joy to be had in this.”

Men did not speak that way to women; they didn’t look upon them as if they were going to swallow them whole. She sunk lower in the water as if it might shield her from the weight of his gaze.

Darius tutted. “You wish for privacy so you might dry yourself and dress. That is unnecessary. I know your body inside and out. There is no cause to flinch or try to hide in the tub.” He picked up her hand and began to clean dirt from under her nails, no matter how she fought to pull it back. “I shall finish bathing you, I will dry you, I will dress you. Then, I will feed you.”

He made her sound like some doll, tutting and clucking when he found a broken nail or a hanging bit of cuticle. “Such a mess. Be still.”

Be still. The command rang inside her skull, and still she became. She couldn’t move, not even to blink or turn her eyes from his scowl.

Next he soaped her shoulder, the remaining length of her arm, Pearl stiff and unable to respond.

Strangers didn’t touch this way. They didn’t issue unspoken commands that a body was physically incapable of ignoring.

“You may breathe and speak, Pearl.”

Throat dry, Pearl sucked in air. “How did you…”

An impish wink, and he kissed the tips of her clean fingers. “I’m your God, remember?”

“And you said… lover.” She had never had a lover. Men had never touched her for her benefit. They certainly had never buffed her nails. “Have we… umm?”

A subtle twitch came to the corner of the man’s mouth. “Have we umm what?”

He was going to make her say it, Pearl blushing all the harder. “Known one another well?”

Moving slow enough to assure he had her total attention, the man dipped his fingers under the bubbling soap scum. His wrist followed, his forearm. “I have known you in every possible way.”

Fingers crept between her thighs, separating folds, to tease a place that made her gasp when treated to small circles of friction.

His head hovered lower, Darius observing her parted lips and dazed eyes. “You suffer such attention beautifully, and I think you always will. I dare you to tell me you do not enjoy this.”

A noise caught in her throat as he breached her, a single finger wr

iggling inside that place men liked to damage and use.

Only his attention brought no pain. There were gasps of surprise instead, little sounds coming from lips that spoke of trepidation, confusion, and a drugged hunger for more.

Water began to splash when his exploration grew more vigorous—what had been slow and meticulous became wild and unbearable. Head back against the lip of the tub, Pearl squeezed her eyes shut and found a rush unlike anything she’d known. Before she might stop herself, she cried out and lurched, spilling water and soaking the man’s shirt front.