Forevermore Ch. 02

"So you didn't marry for love?" He seemed to need it so badly.

"I loved Virginia too much to see her trapped in a loveless marriage," he shrugged. "Although, I merely trapped her in another loveless marriage. She deserved better," the regret was a pulse and the longing in his voice was an echo down her spine.

Belinda touched his face and water trickled down his neck. It wet the tee shirt and she set one hand on his heart. Alive, still alive and it beat hard and steady. "So all of those poems were for other women?" she traced the place, that spot at the center of his chest where she had laid her head.

"One in particular," he reached for her in the water. "One lovely maiden," Edgar took her hand in both of his. "An ill fated match," he kissed Belinda's fingertips and his surge of electrical impulses entered her skin.

"Ill fated?" she repeated, lost in the cadence of Annabel Lee.

"A spirit, a sprite," he continued, "a black haired beauty that would come to me in my dreams," he murmured. Belinda felt the wash of goosebumps down her body. "An angel with black hair and blue eyes that were the deepest wells," his voice took Belinda away. Suddenly they were under the tree branches, cast in the shadow and sunlight. "She would meet me on the edge of a dream, only to leave me, broken-hearted as I woke."

Impossible, Belinda shook her head but it didn't matter. There wasn't enough lithium in the world to leave the edges all crisp and perfect. It was a fucking mess of half told love stories that began and ended in madness but weren't those the best kind? She swallowed hard and asked him, "Was she me?"

He nodded but his whole body trembled as did hers. "That's why I knew you," Edgar whispered and it was fierce and frightening, this voice that claimed her completely. "I felt you and knew you immediately. You brought me back to life," he held her face in his hands. His life force radiated there, something that magnetized them both. A radiant warmth that drew them closer, closer still. "My Belinda," he said her name reverently, solemnly.

Maybe that was it. Maybe the only explanation needed was that they were lovers searching for each other throughout eternity. Belinda shivered as the touch ran down her body. They couldn't fix this with pills, this was fate, Belinda thought with a little gasp as his tongue touched her lower lip.

It was a kiss that had waited for hundreds of years. It made her body shake with the long lost recognition as his mouth opened Belinda's. His tongue and his breath and the strum of his pulse and the weight of his body, it was so familiar. It was all the first time and a thousand times. It was all ancient ritual and yet it all was brand new. Her tongue sucked into his mouth and he swallowed her down. He hid her away, just for him, to keep forever.

"Edgar," she whispered his name. It was a magical word, a word full of feeling. The syllables traced onto her body, like a finger of fire that left behind his eternal mark on her skin. "Edgar, my love," Belinda surrendered to his mouth and his hands and the water. She'd been here before, she'd been here forever.

"It was always you," he whispered and tasted her forehead and cheeks and chin with a flurry of soft kisses. "Can you blame me for my madness when you first came?" His hands folded her skin and kneaded her, closer, even closer.

No, she couldn't, Belinda stared into the gray eyes and recognized him from all the shadowy places that she'd never gone to check before. They always waited for her, in the corners, just beyond the edge of the light. They were always a split second after she had turned her head. His presence was familiar, she'd just never allowed it until now. And now, she was afraid to admit she was addicted. "And now?" Belinda asked him, her nipples were aching stones that had risen from the bubbly water. Her skin sought him out.

"Now? I can't have enough of you," Edgar said with longing. He was hoarse and hungry and his teeth nipped her mouth, bit both lips separately and then together. He needed to feed and Belinda wanted to be his sustenance.

"Take me to bed," Belinda begged, her wet hands seized him. The bath water dripped down his face as she opened her mouth and lost herself in his kiss. She breathed him in and felt him fill and then empty her lungs with the air that he gave her. He gave her life, Belinda sighed as she felt Edgar swallow her air into himself. She was ready to lose herself in the breath of him and the touch.

"Anything my love wants," he assured her as he brought her to her feet in the tub. The warm water spilled down her body and back into the tub. The rivulets flowed along her skin and reached into every hidden crease and secret fold. Just like Edgar, Belinda thought with a shiver, the water knew everything about her. It was the familiar rhythm of the waves. It was an old poem that had been told to her in the dark. It was words that had been whispered down her spine long ago.

He wrapped her in the gray towel and led her to the rug. Edgar dried her and pushed her black hair away from her face as he studied her eyes. "I did learn a few things today," he added with a wicked gleam in his eye. "Some things that I believe that my Little Bell will enjoy," his whisper was hot on her neck.

She was lost, there was no denying it, no fighting it. Belinda knew that it had all been waiting for her. There was no escape and nothing to run to even if she did. "Show me," Belinda nodded and felt the terrible ache there in the gray, haunted eyes.

***

Edgar's hands gripped her wrists as he led her to the bedroom. He brought her to the bed and Belinda felt the breath tremble in his body as he brought her to him. "Finally, the black haired wraith is mine," his voice was tormented as he whispered into Belinda's neck, "Mine and mine alone." His fingers gripped her like cuffs and Belinda couldn't pull away if she wanted to.

"My captive," he murmured and pushed her to the bed. He overpowered her easily. Even if she hadn't been tipsy, she was no match for him. Like this, with his lips on her wrist, he tasted her veins and lapped at her flesh. Belinda didn't want to fight. She wanted to surrender to all of it.

The rope was black and smooth and he was quick about securing her firmly with the knots that he already had prepared for Belinda. Before she realized what this was, Edgar had tied her right wrist and the black rope was fastened to the bed frame somewhere.

Belinda tried to yank her hand back. She just needed to feel some slack, just in case she needed to get away, just in case the insanity of this became too frightening. She couldn't get out. The rope was tight and fixed her in place and the panic set in. She bit her bottom lip, suddenly nervous, the back of her neck, still wet from the bath, was too warm and her stomach flipped.

She wouldn't admit that though. She whispered, "oh, kinky," as Edgar reached over her body. His forearm brushed her throbbing nipples and Belinda watched as they responded in kind. Frantic, desperate, her soft skin wrinkled and molded into points that pulsed for his tongue and his torture.

Edgar was quick about fastening her other wrist. The look in his eyes was dark and devious as he deftly tied her with the two, solid knots. Belinda shuddered and asked, "Is this what you learned today?" Here there was years and years of history and social commentary and Edgar had learned some kinky rope work.

"My love," he paused, his fingers lingered along her inner arms. He followed veins and traced the past wounds that he'd branded her with. "Tying you to the bed isn't what I learned," he said with a fiendish laugh and Belinda didn't know whether to join in or try to pull her arms free.

"Then what?" she asked and shivered in anticipation.

Edgar smiled. "You'll see soon enough." His hands were strong and he ran them both down her nakedness and paused just for a moment at her mound. He sighed with longing and then moved down, past her hip, along her thigh. When Edgar's fingers stopped at her knee, Belinda pulled her leg back.

"What are you going to do to me?" Belinda asked, her lips were sore and she twisted her wrists in the rope cuffs.

"Making you love me," Edgar groaned and pressed his forehead to Belinda's calf. "Keeping you," Edgar reached forward and there was more black rope. Another length of the cord was tied quickly and efficiently and Belinda bucked her hips and tried to pull her way to freedom.

It was pointless but Edgar smiled as he watched her struggle. "You have me, right, Edgar?" Belinda couldn't keep the nervous lilt out of her voice. "You don't need to hurt me." She sounded scared out of her mind and suddenly she was.

"Maybe I do," he whispered and moved to her left knee.

"No, come on," Belinda tried to twist her leg out of his reach. "Let me go, Edgar, please," she hated to beg but it couldn't be helped.

As he secured her other knee, the dark haired demon murmured, "Never."

Fuck, she was tied down and there was absolutely no wiggle room. Belinda felt the sting of the rope bite into her wrists and knees as she fought to release herself. Tied like this, not only was there no escape, she was open to him. It was impossible to close her legs, impossible to push him away. Belinda was already terrified of what might happen if she couldn't stop him.

Insatiable.

He was so hungry, so ferocious. Belinda watched as he rose to his feet and regarded her helplessness with shimmering eyes. "My angel, I finally have you exactly as I always wanted," he said in a husky voice. He reached for the hem of the black tee shirt and pulled it up and bared his abs. Edgar pulled the shirt up to his neck and then over his head. He stood before her and let the fear and the want seep into her bones.

God, he was strong, Belinda scanned his chest. Christ, he was even more muscular than the delivery boy had been. What the fuck was he doing? He didn't eat, he didn't sleep, he just fucked her like a wild animal and damn, it did a body good. He was lean and chiseled and his shoulders flexed as he stared.

The other lousy thing about being tied with her legs open was that he could see the obvious effect he was having on her body. Belinda trembled in her ropes and wished she could hide herself. Her clitoris felt huge and hard, it pulsed between her legs and demanded his attention. Her nipples throbbed and reached up for him. She couldn't hide her desire from his eyes and she'd never felt so naked, so exposed

He leered at her, there was no other word for it. Edgar moved his hand to his crotch and grabbed himself through the front of the jeans as he beheld his handiwork. "You are so beautiful," he whispered and continued to touch himself. "Pink like a rose in bloom," he made her pussy sound poetic and maybe like this, it actually was. "Ripe and ready to be loved," he continued. A moan escaped and Belinda felt the draw between her thighs. Part of her wanted to close her legs and keep him out. Part of her wanted to wrap her hands around his body and pull him into her. She was powerless to do either and she whinnied in frustration.

Edgar unbuttoned his jeans and Belinda couldn't take her eyes off the bulge to the left of his zipper. His cock was right there, gloriously hard. She could reach out and stroke him, slowly. Given her hands, she could seduce him. Make him crawl out of his skin and beg and shake and open his parched, hungry mouth. Belinda shook the black rope and tried to pull herself free.

"You can't escape this time," Edgar was solemn as he unzipped and pulled his Levi's down. His dick was fully hard, perfectly erect. The head bulged and it overflowed with want. He was full and ready for her. He dripped a steady stream of precum for her. The jeans came down and he showed her his pelvis. He revealed his dark pink sack, his balls were huge and high and seemed ready to burst already. There the black trail of hair widened and this was even thicker hair and it was scented of sex. She could smell his ache like she could hear his heartbeat in the walls. "I'm going to keep you, my Little Bell. Keep you just like this," he said it and Belinda knew that it was a promise as the jeans fell to the floor. "Keep you forever. For all the times I lost you."

That was heartbreak. Belinda pushed her breasts up at the same time as she pulled her bottom back. Even her body was torn between desire and fear, reason and insanity. "Did I leave you? Why would I ever leave you?" Belinda wanted nothing more than to run her fingers through his curls and get lost in those eyes and that mouth and that breath. She wanted to promise him forever as he filled her completely.

"You tormented me," Edgar set his teeth and crouched over her. His body was hot and now Belinda was cold and covered in goosebumps. He held her face between his hands and pressed his forehead to Belinda's. "You haunted me," his eyes were wet and his voice was gravely.

That explained so much if she could believe it. She had always been drawn to his stories, especially to his poems. Like she had been drawn to the house, to the past. She could have been buried and come undone. She was lost treasure, found once more, like the Ouija board. Like her passion.

But fuck, it was crazy.

"How did we know each other?" Belinda asked and then whimpered as his hot, raspy breath enveloped her nipples and brought a new, potent throb of heat rushing down her body.

Edgar answered with his tongue. He painted a picture with the forcible rush of breath on sensitive flesh. It was a kiss that was hard, almost cruel. He pushed his tongue inside her mouth and sealed his lips around hers. He pushed his breath inside and then drew Belinda's out. One breath, in, out, deeper, together, apart, Belinda felt the tempo of their breath in the tides. It was something that had been the rhythm underneath everything.

There she was. A whisper on the wind, just the trail of her black hair whipped in the wind and she was gone. She'd left him behind, on his knees. Broken. Crushed like the ghost was crushing the life out of her right now.

When he released her, Belinda rushed up from the sheet and gasped for air. She shivered in the ropes and strained to get loose. She wasn't even sure if she wanted more or if she really wanted to run away. Far away. Not even the bar or another bottle of booze would be far enough. After all, he'd followed her from the underworld.

Edgar shook his head as if he didn't need to tell her that he was in her mind as surely as he'd marked her body. "How I've dreamed of this," he murmured and kissed her collar bone. His dick lunged and spat on her and Belinda whimpered. She wanted to hold her tongue out and beg him to feed her. She could taste his orgasm down in her throat all day and it had made her feel dirty and used and all the while wet for more.

Edgar sank to her. His mouth was a frenzy of kisses, his tongue traced the line around one breast and then the other. He lapped down the center of her belly. He found the soft valley under hip bones and the indentation of her elbow. Every taste, every lick made her shake. Belinda pushed her hips up lustily. She couldn't help it, the ache for him was concentrated right there, right at her core.

She'd never been seduced, not truly. She'd never been lusted after like this. Never had a man seen fit to tie her down and torture her with love. Belinda purred as Edgar reached the crease at her inner thigh. The place where leg ended and her slippery wetness began.

"My Belinda," Edgar whispered there and watched as the tremor ran down her open legs. "My love," he ran the tip of his tongue between her petals and Belinda cried out for more. "I've waited so long to have you," he looked up at her and his gray eyes held her in their gaze.

With one hand, he reached for her throat and held his thumb and forefinger tight under her jaw. His fingers found the softest places and squeezed down. "Edgar," Belinda mouthed, trying with all of her might to push him off.

He kept his hand steady and his eyes on her as his wicked tongue flicked softly over her clitoris. The electric sensation entered and sent a ripple of pleasure that cascaded down her inner thighs. The hand on her throat seemed to be something far away. Her breath was gone but the ecstasy between her legs just spiraled.

His kiss there, there between her splayed, sensitive lips, it was the kiss of a lover, the sweet embrace of a love story. It was the prince who woke the sleeping maiden in the woods with his mouth full of adoration. The kiss was soft and secret, wet and slippery. It was sweet worship and Belinda melted under the satin touch of him. She trembled in ecstasy with every lap.

His hand on her throat was a punishment. It was the suffocating grip of a killer, a rapist, a madman. His eyes were crazed and his fingers were strong and Belinda was lost somewhere, somewhere where breath was gone and the colors were faded.

The pleasure pulsed there between her legs and the electric crackle was all she heard. Her body twitched as she surrendered. Somewhere, she suddenly realized why they call it the little death. Orgasm, transference, she was about to fade away into the oblivion of him and his mouth.

He released her neck and suddenly the air came back with a gasp and a sputter. Belinda coughed and shook her hands in the rope. It was danger; danger and darkness all at once and her body wanted nothing more than to run. Get away. Hide.

Send him back to hell.

Edgar smiled and showed her his milky face smeared with cum. He blew her a kiss before he sank back down to her altar to worship her once more.

Belinda arched her back and shivered as he melded his lips around her bud. He sucked her inside and the ecstasy was a tremor that ran through her. "God, yes please," she begged as her inner thighs quivered. She panted and listened to her pulse drum in her ears. It was too fast. It was too much for her poor body to take and yet, she wouldn't stop him even if she could. She wanted both, to die and to die with pleasure.

Another tremor and then the hand went back up to her throat. He gripped her, the death grip of a predator. His fingers were like teeth and Belinda imagined her lifeblood flowing into him.

Then the orgasm peaked once more. There was no sound, just light. It was just light and his sweet mouth that adored and drank her down in gulps. She was spilled water in the desert. She was an oasis and Edgar was desperately thirsty, intent on emptying her. Drinking her down. And he would leave her dry as a bone.

Her breath was gone and Belinda closed her eyes, fading, faded. It was a blanket of sensation and soon she was only warm. Wrapped in the arms of death, there was no fighting anymore and why bother? Belinda had been here before, she slipped back into the place with no hesitation.

In and out, there had been light that drew her in and somewhere, far away, had been the steady beep of the machine that had pronounced her dead. "Belinda! Belinda, can you hear me?" There had been voices just like this and now, here it was once more. A deeper voice and this one just in her ear.

A lover.

"Belinda," he had released her throat and she was back. She sputtered and coughed and gasped as air rushed inside. Tears streamed down her face and Edgar grabbed her with both hands. He held her face and kissed her desperately. "Darling, my darling," he called to her between kisses. He anointed her forehead and cheeks and the tip of her nose with kisses. "Where were you?"

"Let me go," Belinda whispered, hoarse and her throat burned. "Please, let me go," she cried.

He busied himself with the knots and once he had untied her legs, Belinda pressed her thighs together. The waves were still there, the pulses wracked her hips and the fingers of want caressed her crevices.

Edgar reached over her head and untied her wrists slowly. "Did I frighten you, my love?" he asked. His eyes were tender now, tender and sweet and full of a forlorn love that had shattered him and maybe her as well.