Saving Clara Ch. 06

I glance up at him and study his face, the tender scars that trail his jaw down his neck, and wrap around to his back. For some reason this bothers me, does he deserve his scars? He is such a strange man, I cannot say he is entirely based in kindness, he has done foolish things I am sure but there is something so tender about him. I take a deep breath, "How many women have you done this with?"

He is silent for a long moment but I cannot look at him, I cannot let him see my expression if the answer is too extravagant, "How many women have I played this game with?"

I shake my head, "No. How many women have you..." I find that I am not entirely sure how to word it so I leave it in silence and hope he fills in the blanks.

"On the first night we met I bid you sleep in my bed, you were the first woman to lay upon my bed. You are my first lover Clara."

I narrow my eyes at him, "I must insist you elaborate how that is not a lie, I am aware you were married." Ander reaches for the glass and downs it in one motion before filling it and repeating the action. When he reaches for the glass again I place my hand on his, he looks at me with eyes full of endless pain and my heart squeezes, "You don't have to answer, I am sorry."

Ander's eyes flow over my face before he caresses my cheek, "It was a very long time ago my dear." He leans back, I settle against the headboard, "When I was sixteen my parents decided to match me with Ophelia Levingar, she was a perfect match for business and social purposes. I was always desperate to please my father, so I entered the marriage under the impression that a business marriage could still be pleasant. Ophelia insisted we have separate rooms, which I obliged, and we were only alone in a room if she decided we try to have a child. The first two years we had no relations whatsoever, we rarely even spoke, in truth I forgot she was my wife. Thrice we lay together, and I was forbade to see her body, and I was not upset by the fact. Ophelia was a very cold woman, very controlled and... Unpleasant. Not entirely unlike Amelia I suppose. She wouldn't even look at me..." Ander lapses into silence before he sighs, "After the third episode I was certain I would go mad if it must continue, but she was heavy with child, perhaps from the second coupling even. After that we never touched again; perhaps it is an unfair thing to say that you are the first to share my bed, but in truth you are my first lover."

I find it is difficult to breathe normally, I close my eyes and tilt my head back, "Oh." I take a deep breath, "I am sorry..."

"The relation was an entire mistake, but..." He chuckles, "How did you learn to dance?"

I stare at him for a long moment before I reach for the glass then I hesitate staring into the pale amber of it, drawn forward into eternity. I cannot force him from my past entirely, not when he is being so open, I close my eyes before I clutch the glass and resist the urge to escape, "When I was young there was a man that used to teach me many things, he taught me how to dance with the help of my mother. I was around twelve and the steps just came back to me." Ander studies me heavily but says nothing, "Why do you want to play this game Ander?"

His smile is gone, and I am met with that pensive mask I am accustomed, "You do not trust me."

I look away from him, for some reason I feel ashamed. I keep my gaze downcast, "I barely know you."

"That is the point my dear. Ever since you mentioned that, I decided to come up with a way to show you who I am, even the unpleasant bits. You are aware I am not perfect and I will tell you anything you think necessary to know."

I shake my head, "But why?"

"So I do not lose you." I look at him, his expression is dark, "There are moments when I see that fear in you. When I first brought you into this room, you were afraid of me, and I do not want your fear."

He looks lost, I want to touch him, to reassure him, but I am afraid of what that will mean, I take a deep breath, "It is your turn."

Ander's eyes don't find mine this time, "How old were you when your parents sold you?"

"That was a lie." He inhales sharply but remains silent, I take a deep breath before I continue, "My past is very complicated Ander."

He studies me for a long moment, "How did you become a servant, the most simplistic answer is perfectly fine."

I worry the edge of the shirt until I cannot bear it, the alcohol scorches my throat but the relief is greater than anything. Ander leans back as I set the glass between us, his face is set in that mask, and I am frustrated with myself.

I take a deep breath before I study his face, "What happened between you and Ophelia?"

Ander groans before he pours a hefty glass of alcohol and downs it in an unhealthy gulp, he grips the glass and studies it for a long time, "It was a combination of things that would have led to our separation, but before any of that could happen there was a fire in my house. It was during the period I had very few servants, our son was six at the time, my wife discovered the fire, her scream woke me and I rushed out to see what was wrong and saw the fire. The hall was engulfed in flame, my son's door was already surrounded by fire, I told my wife to get outside and call for help. She was overeager to leave our son behind, I used my bedding to beat away the worst of the flames from his door, thankfully he was under his bed crying. The fire had not gotten inside his room yet, I picked him up and ran out of the room, on the way out the frame of the door broke apart and it caught my shirt on fire. I was afraid to stop because I wanted my son out of the house so I just kept running. I still remember the smell of my own skin burning..." Ander takes a deep breath, "Upon exiting the house I found my wife watching the house burn, she had not called for help while her son and husband were burning in the house. I attributed it to fear but after I had another house built and we settled in she told me she couldn't be with me anymore. She was upset by my scars, she said the other women judged her, felt pity for her... So I gave her the divorce she wanted so desperately, she demanded our son, and soon after he died from the smoke that got into his lungs."

"I shouldn't have asked." He shrugs with a dim smile, "What is your next question?"

Ander threads his fingers together, "May I ask what happened to your leg?"

I fidget with the hem of the shirt as I mull over the decision, "When I was almost thirteen my mother poured a pot of boiling water on me." He gapes at me in silence but I can't force myself to elaborate, "Why did you give me a glass necklace?"

Ander narrows his eyes, "What?"

I force my gaze to remain on his, "Amelia told me it was as worthless as me, basically, and explained that it was glass."

He shakes his head, "Clara, I know for a fact that necklace is not glass."

I look away, "Oh..."

His touch makes me jump, his hand is splayed across my thigh and I am reminded of his largeness, "Look at me." I obey and find those stormy eyes inches away from mine, "Do you believe yourself worth so little?"

I start to move but he snatches up my hands and cradles them between his own, "Why play this game if you intend to cheat whenever you please?" He studies me before he releases my hands and leans back, I glower at the glass, "I am a servant Ander, effectively I am your slave, even if you treat me as if I am not I will never be anything else. I am not a woman worthy of your attentions, I am a moment of your life and nothing more."

Ander sighs heavily, "Have you been listening to anything I have said Clara?"

He sounds frustrated but it means little to me at this point, I study his face for a long moment before I make my decision, "I was thirteen when I became a servant, my first master was very kind, he taught me many things and his wife encouraged his attentions with me. One day he asked me a question, I cannot even remember what it was but I had a choice. I could answer him honestly or I could tell the lie he would probably prefer, I was so comfortable with him I told him the truth. His ever smiling face became this angry mask, it was as if he became a different person, so he dragged me outside and ripped the front of my dress, effectively baring me to anyone who might pass by. He tied me to the whipping post and he whipped me so viciously I begged God for death. I screamed so much my throat grew raw, and toward the end the pain was so unbearable I couldn't even see anymore."

I take a deep breath before pushing forward, "I could smell my own blood, at one point he stopped whipping me and touched my tattered flesh, he only stopped because his wife came out. And she said to him 'dear! I am trying to entertain and her screaming is interrupting tea time.' So he stopped and called the doctor. When the doctor arrived he assured my master I would die, but he dressed my wounds regardless and after a time my master returned to his kind self... I trusted him, and he made me trust him, he told me once that it was fascinating to see my trust become fear." Ander is staring at me, his jaw clenched tight, as I continue, "That was the last day I cried, the last day I smiled, and the last day I trusted anyone."

He holds my gaze, "You will never trust me."

It is not a question, it feels like an ending, it frightens me to think of losing him because of my fear, "I have told you more than I have told anyone, I have lost all logic to you, and I am afraid of you because I..." I barely manage to stop the admission, "I want to trust you."

Ander sighs, "Is there anything else you wish to ask my dear?"

I take a moment before I shrug, "Lady Amelia seems convinced you will marry her."

He laughs and it brightens my mood, "Yes, she is quite deluded on that fact. Perhaps her business relations are not worth the trouble, I had hoped she would be discouraged with your presence. Initially she was worried I preferred the company of men..." I stare at him with wide eyes and he laughs, "In her defense I was quite chaste before I met you, several years of seclusion and defending against trollops, many believe I am of that proclivity."

"Well..." I shake my head, "Do you have more questions my Lord?"

He glares at me and I blush but don't correct myself, "I will break that habit of yours even if I have to keep you tied up all day long." He crawls toward me and I roll from the bed, adrenaline pulsing to life. Ander wraps his arm around my waist, dragging me back and in a motion he has me pinned beneath him, "As much as I would love to chase you, I prefer no one see me fucking you in the hall."

I stare up at him, breathing hard with anticipation, "Oh." My mind clears slightly and I frown up at him, "Lady Amelia became angry with me because I forgot to use your title, it is entirely too complicated to switch my Lord."

I am not sure why but I enjoy making him glower at me, he drags my wrists above my head and ties them, ignoring my struggles completely, "Then I will make it apparent you are free to call me whatever you please."

I stare up at him blushing wildly, "That is entirely improper."

Ander grins wickedly as he slides down my body until he is straddling my knees, he trails his fingers along the inner edge of my thighs and I bite back a moan, "Are you one for propriety my dear?"

"Oh yes, very much so. But a brute has taken advantage of me."

He grins wickedly, his hands caress up across my bare legs until he reaches the hem of the shirt, "Taken advantage of, you say?" I bite my lip and his eyes darken, his hands cause lightning to race up my spine, tendrils of pleasure sparking through me. Ander slides the shirt up over my aching need, his hand cups my mound and he teases a finger across my soaking slit and I groan, "What a cruel man, perhaps he should stop?"

It takes all my resolve to meet his eyes, "Perhaps he should."

Ander smirks, he buries a finger in my pussy and I arch against him with a moan, "Never." I struggle against the bond viciously, he laughs softly before thrusting his finger into me, eliciting another moan from me. He buries his face between my legs and licks my clit, heat spirals through my belly and I cry out. He alternates between licking and sucking on my clit while his finger pumps into my soaking cunt, and I am rising to that peak I know all too well. Suddenly he pulls away from me and I whine at the loss, I glower at him and he cocks his head, "Have I done something to displease you?"

I study him as the heat clears from my mind, my pussy is aching but I force it from my mind, "Does it upset you so when I call you my Lord?"

Ander slides his hands up the shirt pushing it over the swell of my breasts, his eyes roam over me hungrily before he catches my eyes again, "How do you think of me?"

"I..." He buries his finger in my pussy and I scream, my climax hits hard and fast, I arch against him as the world crashes around me, everything fades to blackness until all that exists is the ecstasy. I float down slowly, my body slick with sweat, Ander is staring down at me his eyes scanning my face.

"To me you are a woman, you are my dearest Clara, and when you call me Lord or Master it reminds me that you do not think of me in the same way. It is selfish of me to insist..."

I stare up at him, the vulnerabilities he is revealing pull at my heart, "It is not like that."

Ander leans forward, trailing kisses across my brow, "Oh?"

I close my eyes and try to focus on my thoughts, "I can't think like this."

His mouth is on my breast, I groan as he caresses my stomach teasing along the edge of my breast before he pulls at my nipple, I groan and arch against him, "Good." I hear something in his voice, something I am accustomed to hearing in other people, something I have heard in my own voice but never in his. Fear.

The thought is ripped away when he struggles out of his pants and reveals that throbbing cock, my mouth waters at the sight. I am met with his stormy eyes as he presses his cock against me, everything moves slowly as he kisses me, his mouth tenderly pressing mine. I can barely breathe as each agonizing inch is fed into my pussy, I return his kiss trailing my tongue along his lips. He smiles against me as he buries his cock to the hilt, and for a moment he doesn't move, his kiss remains tender and his hand is buried in my hair. I whimper as he pulls from me, he grips my hair as his kiss becomes more desperate. Ander groans before he thrusts against me, tearing a moan from me, "I love hearing you moan for me."

A blush races across my chest, I pull at the tie but the bond has not loosened, "Please."

Ander pulls completely from me, "What my dear?"

"Ander please, please." His eyes are dark with desire, I wrap my legs around his waist, "You will have to untie me at some point."

He smiles softly which frustrates me, I bite my lip and roll against him, his smile slips away. Ander slams into me, his cock fills me so completely, I have never felt so whole, I am forced from thought as he pounds into me, "Drop your legs." Obedience seems natural, as soon as he is free he thrusts into me as I am accustomed, hard, fast, on the verge of violence.

I scream when my climax overtakes me, a flood of heat rolls through me, sparking from my belly, I arch against him and lose the ability to breathe. His eyes are holding mine when I crash back to reality, he slams his cock within me and I feel his cum coat my pussy. His groan is almost a growl, he collapses on me, our chests rise desperately in the heat of the room, our slick bodies clinging together. I am overwhelmed by his heat, I close my eyes and commit this moment to memory, no matter what happens I will never forget this moment. I breathe deep his scent and I never want it to end, I never want to wake up.

Ander peels away from me enough to study my eyes, a combination of our sweat covers my body, I am sure there is a puddle beneath me, but it doesn't matter in this moment. Nothing matters. I stare up at him and study those eyes, the eyes that so entranced me the moment I met him, and the way they are so open to me now, "Can you untie me now?"

Ander studies me before he grins, "I am capable of giving you more my dear."

A blush races across my skin, "If you make me scream much more the servants will think I am being murdered."

He seems to contemplate the idea before shrugging, his face serious, "I could stuff that pretty mouth."

I gape at him, "Wh-wh-what?"

Ander laughs, "Perhaps another time." He unties me, he rubs the life back into my wrists, I hadn't even realized they had begun to chill, he studies my skin before sighing, "Was that enjoyable for you my dear?"

I laugh, surprising us both, I stare up at him and his expression is worth the slip in my mask. He strokes my cheek before leaning forward and kissing me, his mouth so gentle I know he will discover every one of my secrets, I will tell him everything if this continues. But will he understand? Will he forgive me? As he kisses me I pray, as fervently as I have ever prayed that he will be the one to save me.