Closer

I reached out and curled my slim fingers around his and he started toward the far wall, leading me, his hand pulling gently. When he wasn't looking at me, I blinked rapidly, the strangest sensation of having forgotten something coming over me. It paired with that absolute blankness I felt when he approached and reached out to me; the numb, impulsive response of my arm raising and my hand falling into his palm.

We settled alongside the solid concrete wall first as the lights flashed in the dim light. I caught my breath. It felt like I hadn't properly breathed since he'd led me from the dancefloor. I couldn't shake that feeling. That strange magnetism I felt, how moving from the center of the crowd happened so effortlessly. He was gone for only a moment, returning with a bottle of water, passing it to my hands. I twisted the top, and satisfied at the resistance and breaking of the seal, drinking eagerly as the stranger turned to me and leaned in close to speak against my ear.

"You look miserable. Beautiful, but certainly miserable. What's your name?" He grinned.

I ignored the impulse to laugh, nervously, a flush playing over my cheeks from my few shots and the absolute embarrassment of being called out so easily. Was I so easily read, even as I attempted to drown my sorrows in music so loud I felt it might give me an arrhythmia? I drew the water bottle away from my dark tinted lips and forced a smile, tilting my head up ever so lightly, my lips against his ear.

"Viveka. My friends call me Vi." I called, a nervous smile pulling across my lips. He placed a hand against the wall beside my head, and I couldn't explain how I felt comfortable with him so very close. Aside from the obvious... How the hell else could you talk to anyone over the noise, if you weren't close?

I suppose talking wasn't exactly the focus. More than a few couples gathered along the outskirts of the center of the warehouse grinding lewdly with one another or making out like they were highschool sweethearts, probably in the exact same situation, having just met tonight and looking for space from the wild crowd.

"Viveka... I love it. Why here, tonight, if you're so sad?" His voice held an air of teasing.

"You can tell all that from watching me dance?" I almost rolled my eyes, smirking, and turning my head toward him.

"I could tell a lot of things. You don't want to be here. You're looking for... something... but not any of these people," He turned to meet my gaze again, with his stark blue eyes lazily bearing into mine and a devious curve of a smile over his lips. He reached for my hand, his fingers warm as they laced between mine. "Come on. It's not so loud in the back... your voice is so soft."

I hesitated... barely. The moment I found myself looking into those unusually vibrant, pale blue eyes I felt my mind blank again and opened my mouth to say something clever as I rejected him but... I couldn't. On impulse my eyes tore away on impulse and I blinked rapidly, trying to clear the momentary fog and gather what the hell it was I meant to say. My eyes searched the crowd. I could see Zebina watching cautiously with the strobing lights flashing over her face, like she always did when I found myself in close proximity to any stranger.

The song began to roll again, a seamless transition of bass and bodies jumping in time with the beat. I flashed a fleeting smile to Zebina before my eyes shifted back to the gorgeous face of this man. His strong jawline, the languid set of his unusually beautiful eyes bearing down into mine. The absolute confidence and power radiating off this man was compelling.

I felt my lips pulling into a smile as I nodded my head slowly and could only find one word to speak. "...Okay."

My voice was drowned out by the kick drum but he had read my lips. He pushed away from the wall, drawing me with him effortlessly, my hand in his. My eyes danced to Zebina, and I flashed her another smile. The grin she sent back to me was wickedly knowing, and I watched her whirl around as the sensual vocals began to pour and the bass amplified. The crowd surged. They jumped in time, all in unison. Even the fucking concrete beneath our feet seemed to quake from the force, and all I could focus on was this tall, dark, handsome stranger.

Closer. Nine Inch Nails.

I followed him out of the main room, down into one of the halls with aimless consideration, holding the bottle of water. I did a mental check—my clutch was looped on a thin black strap over my shoulder. My pepper spray and cell phone was inside if I needed to call for help. He didn't pull me far from the crowd, only into an offshoot of one of the empty, dark rooms... and the music was still so fucking loud. I could still feel the crowd pulsing with the beat. There wasn't a door to worry about scrambling out of if I felt uncomfortable, just sheets of tattered plastic shifting with the breeze, and the strange arrangement of thick chains dangling overhead.

We were barely in the room before I found myself pressed back against the wall, just past the door, and he placed both hands aside my head. Those beautifully haunting eyes were still so intense, even out of the blacklight. Cool, limitless blue, with a shine like diamonds framed by thick dark lashes. Something about them demanded my attention.

"So. Lucas. You were together for, what, all of fourteen months... and then you discovered he was cheating on you." His voice was deeper out of the main room. There was a sensual, almost mesmeric lull to his tone—an almost intoxicating beauty behind it. I could look at and listen to this man talk all day. If only what he just said to me didn't chill me to my fucking core.

I stared at him, dumbfounded for what felt like eternity, feeling the blood rush to my heart-shaped face. My cheeks burned.

"...Wha—What?!" I was surprised I could manage as much looking into those damned eyes. I was disturbed. There was no fucking way this guy could know so much about me having just met me—not unless Zebina was playing some kind of fucking joke. My dark brows furrowed. "How the fuck do you know all of that?"

"I read your mind." He tapped his temple, "You've spent the last week trying to drown your depression in everything short of the bottle of Reisling in your refrigerator. You've skipped work. You blew off your best friend out there, the first few days... Zebina, right?"

"Really fucking funny, yeah. Tell her it was a good try, and you're really nice to look at and all, but I don't need a fucking therapist. Excuse me." I started away. Or... well, that's what I thought I was going to do. I felt resistance as I tried to move, but not from the man standing in front of me. It was almost as if my body refused to take the step and move away from him.

"I've never met Zebina. Or you... not formally. I felt you a few days ago, right after he told you he'd come to pack his things up and he was moving in with his friend, Damian." A roguish smirk curled over his lips, the dark curls of his hair kissing his pale skin. He shifted a hand from the wall, and dipped it beneath my chin, tilting my head up to bring my gaze to his. My eyes went wide. I could feel my heart skip a beat before it began to race. "When he left, you were crying in the coffee shop, practically an open book sitting there as I walked by. I was curious, so... I've... kept in touch."

I opened my mouth to speak, and couldn't find words. Before I could close it, he brought his fingers up, his thumb caressing my full, dark tinted bottom lip. The matte stain over my plush mouth didn't smear or transfer, and his touch was like electricity, racing through me. Exciting me. I tried to draw my eyes off again and focus elsewhere—anywhere but on the hypnotic lure of his intense gaze, but I couldn't! His words echoed in my mind, my thoughts flickering back to leaving my apartment. My cat, frantically trying to keep me home. The lights, extinguishing in the hall of my apartment building. That bizarre magnetic feeling that seemed to be pulling me somewhere... to something.

He leaned in slowly. I felt as if I could move again, and my first thought should have been to shove him back and take the fuck off. Running in six inch, red bottom stilettos isn't ideal, but if you need to, it can be done. I wasn't a terribly heavy girl. I wasn't awfully tall, either... this man would eclipse me if I didn't have the added height.

His lips brushed against mine as he grasped my chin and drew me into him. My dark lashes fluttered. My hands moved to his chest, so slowly it barely felt like I was controlling my movement, and as he moved in closer I felt the warmth of his tongue pressure against my bottom lip.

My eyes shut out the world. I was absolutely fucking lost in the feel of his mouth against mine, the way his tongue invaded my lips and enticed mine to dance with his. The taste of him... like dark chocolate and red wine. He was delectable, intoxicating. I felt a shudder run through my body as I felt the heights of anxiety and arousal clash with my conscience.

"Mmmn," I purred into his mouth as he claimed mine intensely. He dropped the hand beside my head down, looping at my waist, pulling my body closer against him. I could feel him beneath the soft fabric of the black button down and slacks he wore. My mind was reeling, the flood of absolute lust toward the solid, athletic feel of this stranger igniting my senses. For a second I swore I was drunk. A few shots of vodka had never done this to me before. My panicked train of thought rushed to the bottle of water that I had been certain was safe. I'd felt the seal break in my hands!

He pulled his lips from mine, leaving only enough space to speak, and I felt his hands moving. His fingers swept down my neck, against the thin straps of the inverted pentacle pattern, tweaking my nipples through the sheer fabric. I suddenly felt so weak in his arms, leaning into him for support as my mind spun from that ungodly, insanely hot fucking kiss he'd pulled me into.

I released another whimpered moan against his lips still lingering so near, shaking my head. I felt as if my mind and body were at a disconnection... I couldn't seem to form the words to tell him to stop. I didn't know this man, I didn't even know his name! I had never done anything like this before, never in my life. Yet here I was, struggling to force out defiance to his uninvited attention. Failing miserably to call for help. Here I was, feeling the blood rush through my body, a dark pink blush sweeping over my high cheekbones and a flood of arousal between my legs.

"There's nothing but water in the bottle. What you're feeling isn't unusual." The hand at my waist shifted, and I felt him ghost his touch over the hem of my short, little black dress. I felt him draw the material up, caress over the black lace fabric of my boyshort panties, then sweep his hand over the curve of my plump ass.

I opened my mouth to protest, and felt his lips capture mine aggressively. The hand on my ass squeezed roughly. One cheek, then the other. He tugged at the delicate fabric, sliding a finger against the elastic band at my hips as he brought his hand around to the front. I felt light headed and helpless in his arms, my hands curled into small fists against his neck as he pushed me roughly back against the concrete and slid his hand down the front of my panties to caress the bare, silk softness of my mons.

"How far did you go with Lucas?" He teased, that wicked grin over his beautiful lips.

I forced my eyes open to glare at him through a half-lidded daze. My head was spinning. I couldn't explain my sudden weakness, or why I felt so docile, or why the hell I was so fucking turned on with this unfamiliar man sliding his hand into my panties. It was beyond indecent. I listened to people moving down the hallway, I could hear laughter, the roar of the crowd, and the pulse of the bass. Help me. How long had that song been playing?

"We... we didn't do—mmm..." I wasn't even certain why I tried to explain it, I didn't want to tell him anything. I just... I couldn't stop myself. I felt like my mind and body had fallen into hellish disconnection, with my body running off of some otherworldly essence that responded 'Yes' to any and every word and desire that radiated off this beautiful, unholy being. I was responding to some unseen command that told it to give in to this moment. To him. "Just hands... and—ahh... and-and lips... I—I wanted to wait... He got upset..."

His fingers shifted down, and pressed against my shaved pussy, delving between the plumpness of my lips to test the soaking wetness between them. I was so turned on it was hard for me to even think straight now. There was no resistance; just slick, moist, tender flesh beneath his middle and index finger as he pressed along the length of my slit. I bit my bottom lip and whimpered. I heard laughter from the hall, like some far away echo, even with the rave goers walking right past the room. Help me. I dropped a hand, curling around his wrist weakly. God, this felt so wrong... but fuck did it feel so good.

"Why haven't you fucked the blonde?" He teased again. He tilted his head, his lips pressing kisses against my neck, leaving warm imprints of moisture behind to cool against my skin. My body erupted into goosebumps. I felt my hips shift, rocking forward, grinding my dripping pussy into his palm as he sought out my clit and flickered his fingers over it mercilessly.

"I-I—oh... fuck!" I could barely form the sentence before my soft voice melted into a wanton croon. I drew in a shuddered gasp, and felt his fingers slide down the length of my vulva, easing between my soft pink inner lips. The feel of his fingers as they probed against my entrance inspired a quiver of anticipation, and fear. So much fear. "I care—too much, I can't... I.. I won't..."

"...Why aren't you fucking me?" His voice was laced with dark amusement as he pressed a bit further, still. I struggled to fight the arousal, the allure him, the unseen force that had tightened its grasp around me and refused to give back my freedom. The sound of that dark, deep voice crooning the words. The way his fingers seemed to set me on fire.

I shook my head quickly, and struggled to bite back my betraying moans and the way my body wanted so desperately to grind against his touch and beg him to give me more. I shut my eyes, the lustful haze at such heights now I couldn't focus on much of anything. I still heard the tapping beat. The lyrics echoing down the hall from the main room of the warehouse. A chorus of sinful, enraptured voices radiating beneath it.

He drew his hand back abruptly and I should have felt relief. Instead, I felt desire like no other. I felt myself protesting to him moving away. I felt such damning, lascivious craving for him.

"I see." He chuckled darkly, "It's been such a long, long time since I've had the pleasure of a virgin... but I know you feel it. You can't fight it now, how badly you want it. So... why aren't you fucking me, Viveka?"

I could only stare at him as he tilted his head down to me, and placed his hands against the wall again with my head between them, leaving me whirling in such an intense state of arousal I didn't know what to do with myself. I looked into those bizarrely vibrant eyes, half lidded, glowing with that otherworldly intensity and could feel my lips pulling into a wide grin. I felt fucking possessed. I felt insane. I felt him gripping me through his gaze, and my words and thoughts weren't my own anymore.

I heard voices down the hall. I felt myself wanting to call for them to help, to stop me, to make me come to my fucking senses. My hands moved before I could try to stop myself, my fingers curling against the softness of his shirt. I pulled him in close as I snaked my arms around his neck, purring the words eagerly. "Because you haven't taken my clothes off yet."

He moved just as quickly as the sentence left my lips, taking the bottom of my dress and pulling the material haphazardly up my body and over my head. He was on me not seconds after, pushing me back against the rough concrete, hungrily capturing my mouth again and this time... I could feel it. I could feel him drawing me into him, through his lips! I felt my mind blank again, and almost swooned if he hadn't brought his arms around me as his tongue invaded my mouth. I moaned helplessly in his arms. It was all I could do as I felt him leech life from me in his dark kiss, bit by tender bit. Not enough to kill me. Just a tease...

He drew back again, and licked his lips as if savoring the taste of me, turning me around abruptly to press my body against the wall. It got harder every time he kissed me to shake the daze I was left in. My body burned with desire and craving in a way I had never known before. I had never wanted it so badly. Months with someone I thought I loved hadn't felt like this. I couldn't even seem to make myself realize the fact that I was in public—that anyone could come along and see me, mostly nude and moaning beneath the touch of a man I had just met! My mind protested, but my body was screaming that I needed this. That I wanted it.

Did I? My thoughts jammed, as if denying him was not permitted to cross my mind at this point. I could feel my defiance linger, battling against the will of my body as I placed my hands against the wall and arched my back. I spread my legs as his fingertips teased the delicate fabric of my panties and slid down, tugging the material forcefully aside as he probed my dripping snatch with his fingers again. I groaned lewdly. Fuck did I want it.

"You'll let me violate you, right here, where anyone could see?" His words were invigorating, a whisper against my ear as he rubbed my pussy. His fingers flickered over my clitoris, and back down again. An echo of the song pounded in my mind. It seemed like it was on repeat out in the main room. The crowd was deafening, and among them I swore I could hear them. Wanton moans. Desperate, lustful demands. Whispers and purrs of orgasmic ecstasy.

"Y-yes—mmmm, fuck, yes!" I gasped. He drew his hand back and heard the zipper of his pants drawn down. I felt the length of him, solid and eager, pressing against the pert tone of my plush ass. I shuddered.

"You'll let me desecrate you, Viveka?" I felt his cock shifting, down against the slick lips of my pussy, my eyelids lulling as I my mind battled for sense and decency.

"Pl-please..." The desperate whisper of my voice was high. My voice was laced with confusion, lust, and fear. So much uncertainty. So much excitement. He pressed his glans against my virginal hole, swollen and slick with my own demented arousal. In one slow, smooth thrust I felt him enter me, and I gasped and cried out shamefully. I struggled for breath, feeling his girth and length sinking deeper, my walls gripping around him so tightly.

The pain was so intense. So fucking exhilarating. Compared to the pleasure I felt in that single rough thrust, it was all mind-numbing. I couldn't think—I didn't want to. My knees quivered, and I felt his hands move, his long fingers curling at my waist. I struggled to keep myself balanced, mostly nude on stiletto heels, with only the satiny feel of my thigh high stockings left on my legs and my boy shorts pulled aside.

It seemed almost a kindness that he paused when he had buried every bit of his cock within my virginal walls. I felt every inch of him, his solid, curved shaft hugged by my untrained body. He felt so hot and thick, throbbing inside me. I swore I would fucking die if he moved... and as he began to draw back, I couldn't help but whimper. I crossed my arms against the concrete and rested my forehead against them as I struggled to accommodate him and accustom myself to the feel of him. He felt like fire inside of me, tearing me open, making me his.