Chapter Twelve
Lyriope
Maybe I shouldn’t be walking the village alone. It’s dark, there isn’t a soul around, and I have no idea where I’m going.
Okay… there’s no maybe about it. I shouldn’t have left Nick asleep in the bed—again. It’s almost as if I’m trying to piss the man off. If he wakes up and finds me gone—yeah, pissed will be an understatement. But the walls were closing in on me. My mind swirled with good thoughts mixed with bad. I just had sex for the first time in my life and wanted to declare my happiness and love from the rooftops, and yet, this isn’t a love story I’m in.
I feel like I’m suffocating, but I also have never felt so alive.
This little town that Nick owns is the cutest, most charming place I’ve ever been. It’s odd to be walking by little shops and homes that are completely vacant. I can nearly smell the fragrances of a place that once thrived. I can almost hear the laughter of children running in the cobblestone streets and hear the hustle and bustle of the villagers.
I aimlessly walk until I come upon a little shop where the door is wide open. Upon closer examination, the door is actually off its hinges and appears to have been in that state of disarray for quite some time. Stone stairs lead down into a room that is half underground. Inside are tiny animatronic displays. Twenty or so, artistically crafted, landscapes, houses and figurines are arranged as if this shop was once a museum of sorts of tiny music boxes and dioramas. It’s dark in the room with only the moonlight shining through, so I rub my hand on the wall in search of some sort of light switch. When I find one, I turn it on and jump in surprise as all the animatronics come to life. Music plays, bright lights exude, tiny statuettes move in circles, and a magic is born. The sound of grinding gears reminds me of just how old these little music boxes are. I step closer and notice they are all scenes from Alice in Wonderland. One is Alice in front of the caterpillar. Another is the famous tea party. There is even one with the Queen of Hearts playing croquet. They are dusty, full of cobwebs, but still so very special.
“I used to collect these,” I hear from behind me. “They were made in the early fifties by an artisan in Switzerland. Many of the gears are the same used in Swiss watches today.”
I can hear Nick enter the room, but my eyes are still locked on all the moving scenes. “They’re so beautiful. Why did you just leave them here?”
He walks up to where I stand and stares down at the tea party scene with me and shrugs. “This town is special to me. These are special to me. Why not have them be together?” He runs his finger over a trail of dust. “I’ll have to remind Louisa that they’re here.”
“Why the fascination with Alice in Wonderland?” I ask.
“Why not?” He takes hold of my upper arm and spins me to face him. “I woke up and you were gone. Again.”
A spark seems to sizzle between us.
I can’t read him. There seems to be a passion swimming in the darkness of his eyes. I can’t tell if he’s mad, annoyed, or hungry for more of what we just had. The sounds going off in the room, the melodic chimes and the resonance of gears working overtime, as well as the bright lights of the room cast an almost carnival feel to our setting. It’s making me feel as if I slipped down the hole into Wonderland myself. I don’t feel as if I’m in the land of reality any longer.
“I woke up, had some more cheese and wine, and got antsy.” I try to shake off his hold on my arm, but he only tightens his grip.
“Why do you test me?” he asks, his voice reminding me of a growl of a panther. It’s low and foreboding.
“I went for a walk, Nick.” I roll my eyes. “Nothing more.”
“What did I warn you about by the river?”
“You can’t control my every move,” I say.
“I can. I will.”
I shake my head. “No. You won’t.”
This time, I’m able to break free from his hold. I make my way to the door, flip the switch to silence the cacophony of whimsy delight, and start to leave. Before I can reach the threshold, he takes me by the throat and pulls me against his chest.
Whispering into my ear, he hisses, “I have rules for a reason.”
“Who says I have to follow them?” I counter, swallowing hard as he clumps my hair into his fist and tugs. The sting shoots straight to my pussy, and I hate myself for how easy he can control my desire.
“I’ve tried to be nice,” he says as he nips my ear. “I’ve tried to be good.” His nip turns into a bite that has me gasp in pain. “Maybe it’s time you see the bad.”
“I’m not afraid of you,” I taunt as my pussy throbs at his threat.
“You should be.” He shoves me up against the cool, dank wall, my hands splaying on the stone. “It’s time you fear.”
Nick pushes my dress up, and as if my panties are made of delicate paper, he tears them off of me effortlessly. The cool air of the room caresses my bare ass, but the coldness is replaced by heat as his palm comes crashing down upon my flesh. He spanks me so hard that I cry out, my voice bouncing off the wall in front of me. Kicking my feet so they spread wider apart, he thrusts his fingers inside of my pussy without ease and without warning. I’m tender from earlier, so the aggressive thrust is biting, yet every nerve is still alive from his cock claiming me only hours before.
“I don’t like being disobeyed,” he says as he scissors his fingers inside of me.
“And I don’t like being told what to do.” I moan as the period of the statement, but I can’t help myself.