There is Love Here

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He never really knew her. Then again, he never knew himself.
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Kathryn and Vinya, or, There is Love Here

This is my first story here, so please, please leave feedback! My style of erotica isn't as graphic as some; maybe that will change.

1. Kathryn

He can't see me and I guess that's a good thing because I'm not sure I want him to. I've played this moment in my head so many times these last few years- sometimes embracing him tearily, sometimes running him through with a letter opener or that antique sword my father mounted above our mantle. But now that he's walking slowly down the path that leads to my door, I feel none of that surety. The wave of anger doesn't come, nor the wave of love.

I draw a deep breath and set my shoulders back. He's on the doorstep, hand hovering an inch above the wood. He hesitates; of course he does. Vinya Aramont is only bold when someone else leads.

The knock is harsher than I expected. He wants to be heard.

I open the door quickly, letting him know I was waiting. His cheeks redden immediately and I smirk, glad I've disarmed him as much as he's disarmed me.

"Kathryn." He tries to smile but just looks pained. "I- um- I don't know what to say."

"And you came all the way here just to tell me that?" I ask, leaning back against the doorframe. "You've sure as hell had a long time to think about it."

His thick brow raises in shock. I realize belatedly that Vinya's never heard me curse before. I meet his questioning gaze, raise my eyebrow in response. A lot has changed. No use hiding it.

"I mean I don't know how to start. I know I have no right to be here, to ask this, but I need to speak with you. Please." His words trip over themselves as they spill from his full lips. Sweat beads on his brow.

"And what if I don't want to speak with you?" I ask mildly.

"Please, Kath." He says, running his fingers through a mess of dark brown curls. "Just let me come inside."

He looks like he half expects to get the door slammed in his face. It would well be within my rights. But there are things to be said, and in all honesty his face still stirs me. He's clean-shaven, his dark eyes sunken deeper than when he left.

"Fine." I say. "You can cross the threshold, but know I have a silver letter opener."

He chuckles nervously and walks inside. I notice his eyes dart around, cataloguing changes or comparing memory to reality. I wonder if he feels the same nostalgia I do seeing him standing in my home, almost as if nothing has changed.

But it has, I remind myself. I've changed in ways he could not imagine.

We sit in the parlor facing each other. Vinya's foot taps slightly and his back is unnaturally straight.

"Okay, Vinya. Say your piece."

"I'm here to apologize. What I did to you was inexcusable, Kathryn, and I know that. I'm ashamed of myself. I just need you to know that I didn't leave because of you. You- you were what kept me here so long." He pauses to inhale like a man who's been a long time underwater. "I know I can't ask you to forgive me, but I pray for your forgiveness nonetheless."

"I forgive you, Vinya Aramont." I say as plainly as I can.

"You- you do? I haven't even explained myself yet." His dark eyes flit across my face, trying to read subtext that isn't there.

I reach into my right pocket and withdraw the chain nestled there. Gently I take his hand. His confusion amplifies; he tries to grasp it, as if we're having some sort of grand reconciliation. I turn it palm-up instead and hold the chain above it, letting the ring it suspends swing like a pendulum.

"I don't need an explanation, Vin." I say calmly, dropping the chain. It pools like liquid in his palm.

"I suppose I should've expected that." He says after a moment, closing his hand and pocketing the ring.

"Is that all you have to say?" I ask, wanting him gone. Before I do something, say something I regret. Let's leave it here, clean and simple.

"I still love you." Vinya blurts out. "I need you to know that I'm so sorry for everything I did, and that it had nothing to do with you and everything to do with me, and I've changed, but I still love you. I never stopped. I don't want to stop."

His expression is so vulnerable and sincere I can't help but laugh.

"Kath, I'm serious! I love you. I need to know if you could ever give me another chance."

"You don't even know me." I say, shaking my head.

"I don't know you?" He scowls at me, looking more hurt than angry. "I've known you since you were fourteen. I planned to marry you. You think I've forgotten?"

"I just think it's funny you think you're the only one who's changed."

He looks confused. Like he didn't even consider the possibility. Either I would be the same Kath he left, willing to take him back, or the same Kath, too angry and hurt to forgive him. He never bothered to consider that I might be too different for us to fit back together seamlessly.

"I don't care if you've changed."

"You should." I say, harsher than I mean to.

"I don't mean it's inconsequential." He murmurs, leaning forward in his chair. "I mean it won't change how I feel about you."

"Maybe it should."

He tilts his head and frowns.

"Vinya, for all my life I've been trying to be what everyone expected. Quiet, demure." I shake my head. "God knows I've tried, but that's not me. I'm not meant to be a lawyer's pretty wife." My eyes meet his. "You saved me from that when you left. I suppose that's why I'm not angrier."

The hurt in his eyes is sharp.

"Come now." I murmur. "You can't say we weren't both pretending. Me, the proper fiancé. You, the bold, self-assured son ready to inherit his family's empire." I snort. "We were proper marionettes, Vin."

"That's why I left." He says after a long pause. "I wanted to marry you, Kath, truly. But I looked out ahead of me and saw an endless stream of days where I was locked into an identity I did not choose and did not want. I didn't have a clue who I was and I thought I needed to run around the world to find out."

"Did you?"

He shakes his head and smiles. "Honestly? No. But I know who I'm not. And I know I still want you, in any way you'll have me."

In any way you'll have me. I bite my bottom lip, knowing exactly how I would have him. On his knees.

"Do you mean that, Vinya?" I ask, trying to read him. "Any way I'd have you? Are you willing to give up that much control?"

His brows knit together. "What are you really asking?"

I sigh. I should stop and let this go. I have Gideon, that should be good enough. Why risk indiscretion?

Because there's a look in his eyes that makes me hungry. A reluctant recognition.

"Do you remember that night we drank too much and ended up naked in the backyard ivy?" He blushes, so I know he does. "I held you down and covered your nose and mouth with my hand and you looked truly frightened. And then you came harder than you ever had before."

"K-Kathryn!" He hisses, reddening further.

"I remember wanting to bite you." I whisper. "Wanting to push you further over the edge into that grey place between fear, uncertainty, and pleasure. It terrified me, how much I wanted it."

"Why are you telling me this?" Vinya looks so confused a nervous laugh almost escapes my throat. I swallow it down.

"Because you wanted it, too."

"I- I don't know what you're implying." He mutters, looking to the side as if the window is suddenly very interesting. I should let this drop, but I can't. We've been skirting around this truth for years and it's time someone came out and said it.

"I think I can give you what you need." I say, leaning forward so our faces are only an inch apart. "Trust me?"

There's fear and anticipation in his eyes, and I trill a little knowing I put it there. He nods his head subtly, agreeing to the unknown.

I press our lips together sharply, letting him know this is not a lover's kiss. No gentleness when my tongue demands entrance to his mouth, tracing his cheek before my teeth scrape his lip. His hands come to either side of my head, tangling in my hair. I wrap one hand around the back of his neck and pull him forward, off the chair till he's kneeling on the floor. I taste the sharpness of blood on my tongue and delve deeper into him, taking what I need, forcing him to yield.

My hands make their way to his shoulders, massaging gently in contrast to the violence of our kiss. Then I let them trace his collarbone, fingers relearning the curves and hollows. Finally I grip his neck, at first gently, then with more force. My fingers bite into his tender skin, squeezing just enough to threaten but not enough to stop air flow. He gasps slightly and relaxes beneath me, not even trying to fight though we both know he would win.

I tighten my grip on him, knowing I'm leaving two perfect rows of coin-sized bruises. My head is full and giddy in a way it hasn't been in some time. It's never this exciting with Gideon. Vinya was always the one I wanted-

He breaks the kiss with a gasp, fighting for air. I loosen the grip some and start kissing his neck up to his ear, letting my tongue explore the creases and crevices there. His rasping breath stirs me. I slip down onto the floor with him, liquid pooling in his lap. He's stone-hard beneath me. I grind into him, smiling devilishly.

"See?" I mutter into his ear as he's catching his breath. "I can give you what you're looking for."

He stiffens and before I know it I'm off his lap and he's standing up, a wild look in his eyes. His face is red, as is his neck, and his trousers are obviously tented. I pull myself up quickly, still a bit lightheaded from the intensity.

"What the fuck was that?" Vinya hisses. "What did you do to me?"

"Whatever I wanted." I quip, meeting his glare with my own steely gaze.

"Jesus, Kathryn. You could've said if you were still angry."

"You and I both know that had nothing to do with anger." I reply, refusing to let him explain this away.

"You choked me!" He spits.

"And you enjoyed it." I look pointedly down at at his groin.

"I don't need that." He shakes his head as if to clear it. "You have changed."

"This is me, Vinya." I answer, keeping my voice steady though I feel like I've been slapped. Of course this is how he'd react. "There's something dark inside of me and you're drawn to it, deny it all you will. You're not who you pretend to be." I smirk. "And I'm done pretending."

"I-I'm not some fucking pervert!" He snarls, eyes wild.

"This is who I am, Vin. This is what I want." I pause. "You said 'any way you'll have me.'"

"This isn't what I want!" He snaps. "I don't want you that badly!"

I set my face to stone. Damn if he's going to know he's hurt me.

"Fine. I have to meet Gideon anyway." I say as I'm already walking towards the door. "See yourself out."

"Who's Gideon?" Vinya calls after me. I don't answer.

1. Vinya

She leaves me standing in the middle of her parlor without a backward glance. I suppose it's reminiscent of how I left her- is that what this is about? Punishment? Retribution?

You and I both know that had nothing to do with anger.

I groan and sit back down on the too-soft chair. My mind is rocketing all over the place, caught between arousal and anger and confusion. Why did she do it? And why did I like it?

I want to deny it but she's right; the evidence is clear. I ache horribly. I feel her hands around my neck for a second, a phantom embrace, and I wish I hadn't pulled away.

Fucking succubus. I've spent months thinking of what I would say, what she would say, how I would convince her to forgive me. I was prepared for anger, for sadness, but not for- for whatever that was.

She makes me act like a stranger then leaves me here with barely a backward glance. I run my fingers through my hair and pull, sharply, willing the pain to distract me from the tightness I feel. I shouldn't have pushed her away. I could be inside her right now, pressing her down into the settee, promising never to leave-

No. She thinks she can control me. Everyone has always thought they could control me. My father, sending me to law school, telling me how to dress and talk and act. My mother, parading shy little things around our house hoping I'd take a liking to one and marry well. No one asked me what I wanted. No one but Kath. And now even she thinks she can order me around, shake me up, leave me standing like an object in her house.

I can see myself out? Fuck that.

I unbutton my trousers with a smirk and finger the length within. I control this, not her. Not anyone. I sit back against the beautiful upholstered chair and picture it painted with my spending. I picture Kathryn, spread out before me.

She left a scarf sitting on the table beside me. Lacy and pure white. I imagine it around her neck, constricting, as my lips cover her screams, but the vision is fleeting and lacks all passion. I couldn't hurt her.

Still, she marked me. Two rows of button bruises as proof of her violence. So I'll mark her. I'll claim this space. I wrap the silky scarf around myself, picturing it as her gloved hand gliding over my cock. Silken fingers, a silken tongue-

She takes me into her mouth, those petal-pink lips stretched wide. I tighten the scarf, panting, sweat shining on my forehead. The image of Kath standing above me, her hands compressing my neck as she kisses me ferociously, flits through my mind.

I come suddenly. My cum stands out, eggshell against the white lace. I groan and wad the scarf, then tuck it into my pocket.

I feel nothing but defeated as I rebutton my trousers. I was trying to prove that she couldn't control me but here I am, sitting on her couch, just having come to the image of her choking me, while she's gone with some Gideon. Is this revenge? Retribution?

You and I both know that had nothing to do with anger.

Despite it all, I want her still. The thought both excites and terrifies me.

2. Kathryn

"You're riled up, aren't you?" Gideon breathes, running his hand along the inside of my thigh. "Beautifully riled. What's gotten to you?"

"Shut up." I whisper, slapping his hand away. "Did I say you could touch me?"

"My apologies." He mutters.

I bring the leather strap down on his ass, hard. The cracking sound almost covers his moan, half pain and half euphoria. Almost.

Gideon's ass is raw already, a side effect of my unease. He doesn't seem to mind. I'd go so far as to say he's enjoying it based on the hunger clearly visible on his face. There's adoration in his eyes, a balm to Vinya's angry glare.

"I'm sorry, Miss Kathryn." He mutters into the blanket beneath him. I smile, running my hand across the small of his back. His muscles ripple in anticipation, each caress the promise of a strike, each strike a catharsis.

"Do you want to touch me, Gid?" I murmur, swatting him playfully with the leather.

"God yes." He groans. "Please, Miss Kathryn. Let me touch you."

"Where would you like to touch?"

"Anywhere." His voice is hoarse.

"Turn over."

He does, quickly, erection standing like a sentry at watch. There's a strange adoration in his grey eyes.

I drop my skirt and step out of it, watching his eyes widen. Then my slip pools on the floor around my feet. The room is a little cool and I'm immediately covered in goosebumps.

"Close your eyes. If you peak, I'll lash you til you bleed."

He obeys with a giddy smile.

"And wipe that smile off your face." I snarl, clambering onto the bed to straddle him. He tries, but its ghost remains.

I pull myself forward using the headboard as leverage until my crotch sits just below his chin. Lifting myself up gingerly, I press myself onto his mouth. He inhales immediately, then moves his hands to grip my hips. He knows what I need, thank god. He always knows.

His tongue rasps against me and I bite my lip to keep from moaning. He's slow, tracing symbols into my flesh with closed-eyed reverence. His coppery stubble tickles the inside of my thighs.

"More." I command as haughtily as I can, but I just sound breathless. He complies, pressing into me the same way I invaded Vinya. I grind against his face until he's lightheaded, until I'm burning. I come quietly but severely, buckling under the pressure. Gid holds me still, eyes dutifully closed, face shining with my wetness.

My own face shines with tears. God, he's under my skin. I'm not some fucking pervert. I don't want you that badly. I roll off of Gideon's face.

"Hey." A coarse voice whispers, reaching to wipe a tear from my cheek. "What happened, Kathryn?"

"You weren't supposed to look." I reprimand half-heartedly.

He smiles. "You can whip me extra next time, then."

"Vinya came back." I murmur.

Gid glares. "He has some nerve. Two years gone with one letter and he just showed up?"

"Yes."

"Tell me you at least hit him."

"I choked him."

"Good."

"I kissed him first, though."

He sighs. "Miss Kathryn, I'd suggest choking him first. And not kissing him at all."

"Couldn't help it." I mutter into the pillow. "I can't be held responsible for my actions when it comes to Vinya Aramont, I'm afraid. He knocked on the door and before I knew it I'd

pushed him too far, and he'd pushed back."

"Seems to me he should be begging for forgiveness on his knees after what he did." Gid's grey eyes darken and his usually jovial mouth forms a tight line. "What exactly did he say?"

"That I was a pervert. And that he didn't want me that badly."

Gid snorts. "Ignorant boy. Never knew what you saw in him." His big hand strokes my hair almost fraternally, which is strange considering his still-hard cock is pressed against my leg. "And some of us perverts want you very, very much, Miss Kathryn." He grins mischievously. "I know one who's happy just to have you lash him. Yes, that sick bastard thinks he's lucky indeed."

I laugh, swatting at him. "You just want to get off."

"Can't argue there."

"Then don't." I mutter into his ear, letting all sweetness leak from my voice. "Don't speak a word."

"Yes, Miss Kathryn."

I straddle him and lean down so we're face to face. Our breath mingles and I can see the excitement in his eyes. "I said not a word. I've half a mind to leave you wanting for that."

The sadness in Gid's eyes is laughably dramatic. His cock twitches against my thigh.

"One more chance. Another sound, any sound at all, and I leave. Is that understood?"

He nods emphatically.

"Good." I lean down and run my tongue along his chest, his stomach, tasting the salt on his skin. Lower then, until my lips rest on his pelvic bone and his eyes beg me to go lower still.

Obliging, I taste him, with more gentleness than either of us are used to. Salt, bitter lemons, and moss. For a moment we could be mistaken for lovers.

Then I remind both of us of our fundamental truth. We are not lovers shrouded in silk and golden half-light; we are violent companions. My teeth scrape him, almost hard enough to puncture skin. Gid whimpers, but under the pain is something sweet. I dig for it, losing myself in expanses of skin and raw nerves.

Gideon Achor, heir to the Einstarr estate, is slowly undone by a girl born to old money run dry. A girl with white-blond hair and wide, honest eyes. A girl who carries a cat o' nine tails under her skirts with no one the wiser.

He pants, grinds his teeth in pleasure-pain while he fills my open mouth. I hold his gaze, imprinting the image in his memory so I'll forever own this moment. I revel in my complete mastery of a man twice my size and strength, now reduced to a mewling pup.

"Thank you, Kat." He breathes after a time.

"Thank you." I reply, wiping some sweat and cum from his face with the edge of a sheet. "I feel much better now. More like myself."