Page 21 of Scar

"When I come home from work, I'll serve dinner, bathe the kids, and put them to bed. Then when the kids are asleep, I can put another baby in you while you tell me about your day." He says against the shell of my ear. I hate the shiver that goes through my body at that. I hate that as his fingers curl up inside of me, I'm getting wetter and wetter. I'm climbing so high towards an orgasm that I don't want him to have, but I also don't want him to ruin it. "Do you like that idea, fleur?" He asks me, biting onto my earlobe. His thumb moves onto my clit, rubbing circles over the tight bundle of nerves. I jerk in his hold, the moan I've been holding in finally coming out as a strangled and desperate plea.

I can practically feel the smug look on Leon's face at the sound I just made, he bites my ear again, making me jolt at the feeling. I feel him slowly push a third finger into me, the stretch is too much. It burns, but so does his cock, so I guess I'd better get used to it. "Do you like the idea of me treating you like a goddess during the day, waiting on you hand and foot? Fuck, I'd get down on my hands and knees if you asked me to. But at night? You're my slut. Mine to tie up and fuck. Mine to hurt and control. During the day, I'll do anything you say. But at night, you listen to me." He says against my ear.

I'm embarrassed at how flooded my pussy just got at his words. I love how that sounds. I love the idea of being used and worshiped at the same time. "Leon…” I say in a moan. I feel myself getting so close that I want to scream. I'm so high right now that it feels like finally crashing into bliss will leave my throat raw from screaming. "I've got you. Cum for me." He says tome.

When Leon talks like this, it's hard to remember the bad. I lay my head back onto his shoulder, closing my eyes to enjoy the feeling of his fingers. "You're my slut, Maeve. This cunt is mine, this body is mine to do whatever I want to, whenever I want." He adds in. That would ruin my orgasm if I wasn't already falling into pure bliss. I feel my pussy clamp down around his fingers, I feel my arousal gush out of me and onto his hand. Stars blur my vision, my legs shake and my body heats up until I'm practically twitching in his hold. It's humiliating that he was able to make me cum while telling me that my body is not my own anymore.

"I need to fuck that sweet little cunt." Leon says. I feel him pull his hand out of my sweatpants and grab onto my waistband. Now would be the time to test if my consent ever did matter to him. "No." I say as sternly as I can muster. Surprisingly, his hands freeze. He doesn't proceed with pulling my sweatpants off, even though I can feel how hard he is pressed against my butt. "What?" Heasksme. What's surprising is that he doesn't even sound mad, he sounds confused. "I said no." I repeat myself. Part of me is worried that I will just upset him and he'll take whatever he wants anyway. That he'll throw me onto this couch and have sex with me no matter how many times I tell him to stop. But I need this answer.

Leon's hands move away from my waistband, they move off of my body completely and rest at his sides. "Okay." He says calmly. I hate to admit that I'm honestly a little disappointed that he gave up, but I do respect that he doesn't even seem mad that I said no. I expected him to either ignore me or to treat me badly for refusing, but he isn't. Part of me was waiting for him to shove me off of him since I won't give him what he wants, but I'm still lying against him.

I guess we're even now. He ruined my nice night last night when he told me about finals, and I just ruined our nice evening by not letting him have sex with me.

Chapter 30

Leon's POV

I don't know what changed. I thought things were going well, Maeve saw my leg and didn't run screaming, she let me make her cum, she laid against me after she'd woken up. I thought this was the start of things changing. But then she told me no and basically ran off to bed without another word.

I want answers. I feel like I deserve them. I know I kidnapped her, I know I shocked her, I know I fed her food that made her sick. But I also packed her things so she felt at home, I also made sure she could take her finals, and I also did everything I could to make her feel better after dinner. I'm trying my best here. But it seems like every time I get somewhere with her, something happens that pulls us further apart.

Istayup a while longer, Icleanup the house and put away all the new groceries that I had delivered. I spend far too long disinfecting the entire kitchen and throwing away everything that could be contaminated. I refuse to let Maeve get sick again because of my carelessness. But at least now if it does happen again, I know exactly how to help her.

Once the house is in order, I decide to head to bed. I have to head back to work tomorrow, itputme too far behind to miss today with such short notice. My secretary had to reschedule all my clients for tomorrow, so tomorrow is about to be a long day. It would have been easier if my clients were willing to see another psychiatrist in my office, but they only trust me. An unfortunate flaw of being the best, I suppose. So, I have to head into the office early, and I probably won't be home until Maeve is already in bed. I guess that kind of works out since she's mad at me right now anyway, probably wants nothing to do with me.

I take a quick shower, leaving my leg off after the shower. I figure I can just carry it with me and hold onto the dresser on the way to bed. I need a break from my leg right now, it's hurting too bad to be willing to wear it any more than I have to.

I've got my leg in one of my hands, I'm gripping onto the dresser with the other. I just hope that my jumping doesn't wake Maeve up, I don't want to piss her off any more than I already have tonight. But of course, luck couldn't be on my side right now. I drop my leg as soon as I turn off the bathroom light, making a very loud noise as it hits the tile floor.

Maeve shoots her head up, staring at me groggily. "What are you doing?" She asks me. I can tell she was sound asleep before I ruined that, her voice is still thick with sleep. "I'm sorry, fleur. I was just trying to get to bed." I explain quietly, hoping that she'll just roll over and go back to sleep. Of course she doesn't. She looks down at my stump and back up to my face. "Where's your leg?" She asks me. I grip onto the doorframe of the bathroom, leaning down to pick up my prosthesis and show it to her. "Giving my leg a break, I'm sorry I woke you." Itellher.

I figure that will be it, that she'll roll over and ignore me. But she doesn't. She hops out of bed and walks over to me, putting herself under my arm so I can use her as a crutch to get to bed. I wrap my arm around her, squeezing her shoulder lightly as I clutch onto her and we make our way to bed. I didn't expect her to help me. I didn't expect her to care enough to even look my way. But this girl keeps surprising me, every time I think I have her figured out I find another layer to her.

Once we're both situated in bed, I find myself just staring at the ceiling and wishing I could fall asleep. I hear that Maeve is having the same predicament as me, tossing and turning and letting out the occasional sigh. "Why did you help me?" I ask her after a while. I hear her rustle a little and when I turn my head she's rolling onto her side to face me. So, I do the same and face this beautiful woman sharing our bed. "I like when you're not perfect. It humanizes you." She says quietly. I have to hold back the laugh. My woman thinks I'm perfect. "I'm not perfect, I'm so far from it ma fleur." I tell her, smiling casually at her. She rolls her eyes at me. "You are, it's intimidating. It's even worse when you're being so nice to me and then casually remind me that I have no say in anything anymore. It's so dehumanizing." She says sadly. She even breaks eye contact with me, staring at a thread that she's absent-mindedly playing with on the pillowcase.

I didn't realize that was how I was making her feel, it's not how I wanted her to feel. I don't want her to be delusional to think that we're here under normal circumstances, but I don't want her to think that she is a prisoner. I want her to make this home hers, I want her to make me her home. "That was never my intention, Maeve. I'm sorry." I tell her genuinely.

She doesn't make eye contact with me, she keeps her focus on that single string on the pillowcase. It's honestly killing me that she wont look at me, but I think I've fucked up enough for one night so I'm not about to point it out or demand that she look at me. "It doesn't matter what your intention was. I get it, loud and clear. I'm a prisoner. I'm not my own person anymore." She says quietly. She shifts again, rolling onto her other side and away from me. I hate that I can't look at her beautiful face, I hate that she turned away from me. I reach for her, putting my hand on her back, but I back away when I feel her flinch to my touch.

I have to give her something, I have to prove to her that I'm not perfect, that I'm just a guy who wants to earn her love and trust. I sigh roughly, scrubbing a hand down my face and rolling back onto my back to stare up at the ceiling.

"My mother was a medical researcher. She worked for some super private company that created very controversial medicines, most of them used for torture and not medical benefits." I start with.

When Maeve doesn't respond to me, I continue. I can tell that she's awake, that she's listening, so I have to get this all out in the open now. Before I lose my nerve and never tell her. "My mother was the head researcher. She made the bad shit, stuff the government would never admit to funding. The things that you'd never get a willing test subject to experiment on, so she used me." Iexplainto her.

Maeve doesn't move, but she does ask why. At least I know she's listening. "Money. She would strap me down and try out these treatments on me. The first time was when I was eight. She thought she created a serum to enhance vision, past twenty-twenty. That's why one eye is silver, it took all the color from my eye. But it did work, I can see at night, I can see far too far away, and my peripheral vision is enhanced on that side."I explain.

After a long silence, Maeve rolls over onto her back again. "First time?" She asks me. I figured that would be her next question. It's now or never to get it all out there. "Yes, the first time. She would do little experiments over the years, nothing too major for a while after the eye. Not until she thought she found a serum to make someone unable to feel pain. She gave that to me when I was eleven, then proceeded to strap me to a table and cut my chest open like an autopsy while I was awake. She even cut three ribs out of my chest. The serum didn't work. I felt everything and the serum didn't even let me pass out from the pain, so I guess to her it was a success in another way. It was a creative form of torture." Itellher.

My chest aches with the memory of my mother putting a mouth guard in my mouth and going to town on my chest with a bone saw. I wish that serum had worked, that I wouldn't have had to feel the pain of her cracking my sternum open and looking inside for no reason other than to torment me.

Maeve finally rolls over onto her other side to look at me, but I'm not looking at her. I can't, not yet. Not until I get this all out in the open. "I'm sorry." She says quietly. I nod, but I have to continue. "When I was fourteen, she thought she'd created a serum to make sleep obsolete. She strapped me to a table and gave me the medicine in a constant IV. She observed how I slowly lost my mind from being so tired. On the sixteenth day, she let me out of my restraints to see what I would do. I didn't know what was going on, nothing made sense, I wasn't in my right frame of mind. I ran into her office and grabbed that same bone saw that split my chest open and cut my leg off. She didn't even stop me until I passed out." Itellher.

She gasps at my story, her hand going over her mouth in horror at what my mother had done to me. I get it, I would be horrified too if I wasn't numb to what she'd done. Now the only time I feel anything other than pain and hate is when Maeve lets me see the small parts of her that the rest of the world misses out on. The only time I feel anything good is when I'm with her.

"She should be in prison. Is she?" Maeve asks quietly. I sigh, shaking my head no. "I killed her." I admit. I don't know what reaction I expected from her, but it wasn't the one that I got. "Good. She deserved it." She blurts out. I can't even help the little laugh that I give. My girl who won't eat meat because animals suffer is glad that I killed my mother, it's adorable honestly. "She did. I didn't mean to do it, though." I say. "Then why did you?" She asks. I shrug slightly, I don't regret killing my mother, but it was an accident. One that I know I never would have had the guts to do on my own. It was what framed me into the killer that I am today.

"She was working on a temporary medication to make men infertile and impotent. One that could be given to rapists and pedophiles until they've been deemed they're no longer a threat, then they could get another shot to restore function. She wanted to try it on me, but I was sixteen, I didn't want to risk losing that. And I definitely didn't want my mother to shoot a needle in my balls." I say with a laugh, one that Maeve reciprocates.