Disclaimer: I don't own any characters except Irbis and several innocent short-lived bystanders; everything else is Marvel's only.
23. Final examination
Irbis finished lighting the candles on the fireplace, having previously taken a mirror off the wall and put it against the wall so the dim light might reflect on it and become more intense. Near the candles lay an assortment of bread, smoked meats, cheese, and some beer.
"Com'ere," Creed called her. He had piled a couple of carpets to insulate them from the cold floor next to the fireplace and was now sitting with a blanket over his shoulders. The blanket, though, had plenty of room for one more person and she hesitated. "I ain't gonna say that again, girl."
His voice was angry and she reminded herself that she had agreed to obey the man. That he wanted her in the blanket with him for purely practical motives: it'd be warmer. And yet she was scared... what if her body decided to go nuts on her again? But no, she had to keep herself under control. Breathing out with resolution, she walked into the man's embrace.
A bit of heat came up to her cheeks, but she strangled it. Remain cold, she insisted to herself. Freezing cold. But it wasn't an easy feat as the man placed a blanket over their legs, a strong arm enveloping her torso and pulling her closer to him as he brought together the two ends of the blanket in front of him; the enclosed space making his male scent more intense, his body heat more pronounced, his rhythmic breathing more comforting. Irbis closed her eyes and leaned on him – a tower of mighty protection, even if also a bomb of potential violence. A tingling wave of pleasure ran up her spine and she clenched her teeth.
"'Fraid of what I might do t'ya, huh?" She was unsure what undertone was that on his voice.
"No," she whispered, trying to follow the geometrical pattern of the blanket with her eyes. "Not you, Mister Creed."
"Victor."
His voice had been hard. He wasn't being nice, saying she could call him by his first name, he was making a demand, forcing her to become less formal with him. And she had agreed to obey him. Fortunately, he had never told her to do something she didn't want to, ever since August. He had even tested her in a couple of occasions, but she had had no particular interest in doing things differently from what he had demanded so she had had no problems complying. But this was different.
"I'm sorry," she tried beating about the bush, although certain that she had to give in. "I'm not obedient. Is not in my nature... uh... ... mm... ... Victor. Sabe, when I was a kid, a ceercoos was in my village. I wanted to go, but my moder said no. But I wanted. Dey had ponies and camels and a lion. I never had seen a lion, and I really, really wanted. So in night – I had seven years but I wasn't stoopid, I know dey can stop me in de day, but night everyone was sleeping. In night, I get up and I start walk to de ceercoos. It was two kilometrsh, but I went to de ceercoos. I was always very disobedient."
There was a moment of silence before the man asked, casually. "Were ya caught?"
"Yes," she chuckled. "I got lost when I was returning. To say de true, was a big luck dat I found de ceercoos. Mas enfim, a friend off my fader was in de police, and dey find me and take me home. My moder was so, so hangry. And everyone, too. Bem, everybody except my grandmoder Lilia; she laughed."
Irbis felt him nod, but he didn't say anything else and she relaxed. Her body wasn't going crazy, anyway; she just felt as if she could stay like that forever. But, naturally, it couldn't last forever. His hand, so heavy and comforting over her shoulder, came to life and his thumb started massaging her upper arm, quietly and distractedly. It felt beyond good, but not in a sexual way, the way his piercing eyes or his evilish grin made her feel. It simply made her feel warm, and safe, relaxed, comfortable, happy. No boyfriend she had had before had ever made her feel like this. Not even Miguel, the only one she had seriously liked (as in more than just like) and whom she had almost slept with a couple of times. She had loved being embraced by him, his arms lovingly around her; and yet that pleasure was nothing compared to Creed's resounding presence. And she felt fear once more worm its way into her heart.
"Why are ya afraid, then?"
"I'm afraid dat..." she hesitated, considering the wisdom of telling him her secret. That feeling of safety could change in a second, she knew, and she would never be able to stop him from doing something, not unless he wanted to stop. "I think... I..."
But she couldn't say the word, not even to herself. "I like you."
"And ya'd rather ya hated me?"
"No, I mean... I like you. Quer dizer, like."
"Ya mean, ya think ya're fallin' fer me?"
There was a wave of relief that he didn't use the word either. But 'think' was not quite right. "Is not think, I know."
He chuckled, the sound vibrating through his body and straight into her heart. "Don't be stupid, girl; it don't suit ya. Ya got the hots fer me, that's all."
"No," and Irbis was happy that her voice sounded like her own again, decided and in control. She pulled slightly away from him, trying to see his eyes. "I know what I feel... Yes, I... I'm attracted... physically. But I like you in a way like I never liked no one. When Miguel was away – Miguel was my boyfriend – when he was away, I never felt like I needed him; I feel like dat wid you. I want to see you. I want to... Raios!"
She looked away, telling herself she was going too far now. At the same time, Creed took his arm from her back and she felt cold and unprotected without it.
"Ain't ya a bit too old t'believe love an' sex go hand-in-hand, girl? Ya ain't got no nice fuzzy lil' feelin's fer me. I'm the man who beat ya up silly just a few months ago, remember? The man that was gonna kill ya. The monster that enjoys torturin' lil' kids an' helpless frails. The animal that hungers fer the kill an' the blood. Me! Ya don't like me. Ya ain't about t'fall fer me. What ya do have is a serious hard-on. Figuratively speakin'."
Irbis blinked, not voicing her disagreement. Maybe it was better if he didn't think she was in lov... no, that she liked him. It was better that he didn't think she liked him. Like, only like.
"I've told ya before, ya think too much." His eyes shone in the dimness of the room, hard and serious, just as hard and serious as his deep voice. "Yer body knows full well what ya need, Irbis. Stop fightin' it; stop fightin' yer instinct. It ain't ever good t'ignore yer instinct, yer guts."
There was so much sense in his words. But that was what he wanted: to use common sense to better to break her will. To better to eat her all up.
"No," and she felt reassured by the sound of her own stubbornness, giving her absolute control over her life. "You will hurt me."
His short, rumbling laugh froze her inside out, heat searing her face and the rest of her body. "That's almost cute!" He croaked, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "'Fraid it can't be helped, ya bein' a lil' virgin an' all. But it'll only hurt a bit. I'll even be all nice an' gentle! An' I can assure you that, in the end, ya'll be sore but beggin' fer more."
Heat turned to ice. "Virgin..."
"Yeah. Ya're a virgin, ain't ya? I can smell it on ya... I can nearly taste it."
Swallowing hard to keep her mind cool, Irbis shook her head. "No, I don't... I mean, you will... uh... break my heart." Damn, that sounded corny.
"Don't be ridiculous. I ain't got no interest in yer heart, girl. I've told ya: ya're too old t'mix sex an' love. I'm after sex, here; same way ya should. Ya try t'bring feelings inta this and, I assure ya, I won't have t'do nuthin' 'cause ya'll break yer own heart much faster an' more painfully than I ever could. It just ain't my type o' game."
She felt tears burning her eyes and she hated herself for that weakness. For letting that lack of interest in her heart hurt so much. But would she have preferred that he had said he was interested in her heart? And in breaking it himself?
"But I already..." she choked herself to silence, afraid she might say the wrong thing. "I don't want to like you, Mister Creed. Victor. I don't want... I don't want to, you know, like a man, not you, not no one. No man. Womans always stay hurt, when it happens. I see it happen many times, and I don't want to pass my life hurting like dat. Because you love a man, and you just... you just suffer to de rest off your life. I don't want dat!"
There was another chuckle, but she didn't feel the rumbling of his chest, being farther off. "That's some serious commitment issue ya got there, girl."
She shook her head, tears still burning her eyes. Truth spilt forward without her consent. "Maybe... maybe I want... maybe. But I can't, Mister Creed. Victor. I can't... I... You stay close to me, and I start forget dat I can't like you. I have to say dat to me all de time, because... and I sleep wid you, if I sleep wid you... I... You're right, I will break my heart myself. So I can't... please."
She wanted to look up at him, but didn't dare. She had just completely exposed herself and it was all she could do. Whatever he decided to do, now, it was all out of her hands. The blanket was starting to slide down her back, but she didn't care. At her side, she could tell that the man wasn't moving. Just sitting there. Waiting? She couldn't help herself. Swallowing, she stole a glance sideways but she couldn't get a clear picture of his face. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
"You... you go veeolate me now?"
"Ya mean rape ya?" She nodded, once more resisting the temptation to look at him. His voice didn't sound angry, though. Hard, yes; but his voice was usually hard anyway. "Can't say I ain't tempted."
Tempted? What was that suppose to mean? "You rape de womans wid who you want to sleep and dat say no, right? I say no, so..."
"Yeah, I do. But ya're one o' those cases where rape just doesn't cut it. Most women scream an' fight, an' it just makes it all the sweeter. But then there's a handful that neither scream nor fight. The only thing fun wi' those is hurtin' 'em. Ya know, break'em up t'lil' pieces till they're beggin' fer me t'kill 'em." Irbis didn't feel surprised and shuddered. What was wrong with her that she wasn't appalled at the man's casual description of what he considered a pleasant rape and an annoying rape? Was it because she was in love with him? It made his faults less shocking? Worthy of forgiveness?
"Ya're one o' those tough cookies. If ya wasn't ready t'melt at every glance I send yer way," he placed a warm finger under her cold chin and made sure she could see his golden gaze. "Ya'd already be half broken. And I ain't sure if ya wouldn't hold out through the whole afternoon, maybe even the whole night, 'fore ya finally broke down an' begged me t'kill ya."
Now was the time to be afraid, she told herself; and yet her heart beat strong and calm. "I don't beg."
"Ya ain't much of a screamer, either. An' that makes rapin' ya loose half its appeal." A thumb traced her lower lip, sending shivers up and down her spine. This time, though, she didn't feel her muscles melting: they were screaming with the need to act, move; they tensed up for it and made her feel more resolute and in control than ever, even if she knew she had never had so little control over her life and death.
"Course I can still do it." He narrowed his eyes slightly. "But ya're a good housekeeper, a good cook, amusin', ya love t'see me happy as a king in his castle... and ya're dyin' t'have me inside yer pants, ain't ya?"
She swallowed hard but neither agreed nor disagreed.
"Nope. Ya're gonna be like Ruth and her girls." She frowned unwittingly. "Ruth owns a brothel – a house of high class prostitutes – and she owes me a few big favours, too. She and her girls are always more 'an happy t'see me an' keep me happy. And I can tell ya it ain't 'cause I can give 'em a world o' grief."
He grinned provocatively, a fang pressing his lower lip into a cute naughty dimple. "Ya're useful in more 'an one way, girl; and I ain't in the habit o' gettin' rid o' useful stuff unless they get me pissed. That's the only reason I'm givin' ya a chance t'come strollin' inta my bed of yer own volition. So I suggests ya straighten yer head an' get all those mixed up feelings out o' the way, 'cause next time I come to Wausau, ya'll end up either happy or hurtin' like hell."
She blinked, feeling cold inside. He had just laid out her future very clearly, and there didn't seem to be a way for her to escape it. Not even delay it. Feeling the cold creep onto her back, the blanket having slipped farther down, she tried to cover herself again and leaned over to the man's side, searching for his body heat.
"You fired me," she said, feeling a dark numbness spread inside herself, covering the ice running in her veins, but without really warming her up.
He let out a sharp laugh, as if she had just told him a joke.
"Yeah. I guess ya'll have t'pay a rent fer the bedroom I allow ya t'use, won't ya? 'Course, living in the house, ya'll still have t'keep it clean and all. An' since ya're gonna cook fer yerself, it follows ya'll cook fer me whenever I show up." Oh. Basically she retained the exact same functions, was paying instead of getting paid, and allowing the man sexual favours on top of it. Of course she wasn't expected to obey him anymore, but then he'd be more than free to beat her up, so she had better keep on obeying him.
Breathing calmly, she heard herself suggest suicide again: anything but bow down to his demands! But then there was another side that asked if it would really be so bad... she did like his presence, didn't she? She did long for him to show up and comment on her cooking, didn't she? She did enjoy the touch of his skin, his manly scent, his deep voice, his alluring eyes, his... She had liked his kiss just a while ago, hadn't she? Could she deny that she still felt her blood flowing faster at the thought of him kissing her again? If she said yes on the condition she was working for him again, he'd no doubt be happy to oblige, as he said.
Nevertheless, it sickened her to just lower her head and give in to him. Sometimes she wished she wasn't so stubborn.
"If I don't work to you," she said slowly, wondering if he would accept her demand or end up deciding she wasn't useful enough to put up with her hassle. "I... I find a job."
He laughed again, and she couldn't help berating herself at the pleasure of seeing him laugh, at enjoying his mirth. How stupid could it be? If this was being in love, then she'd rather be a bitter old hag!
"Sure, why not? Look fer a job all ya want, if ya think ya can find one that'll let ya take off fer days in a row every time I'm in town!" And it still felt good when his arm once more enveloped her shoulders and pulled her closer to him. She closed her eyes, fighting against the temptation of cuddling. "I can't say I mind yer independent ways, girl. It makes fer a more interestin' challenge that ya do try t'resist me. Just keep in mind that ya'll have t'yield... sooner than later, preferably. Ya play hard t'catch fer too long, and I won't exactly be in the mood t'care if ya end the night happy or cryin'."
That didn't leave much space for doubts, but she did prefer it that way. At least she knew exactly what he expected from her.
"I understand." But if she did, why was her head searching for ways around his rules. "If I don't make you angry, you don't hurt me."
"No," and he quickly forced her face towards his, serious and stern. But his hard hand was so warm, she wanted it to stay there a bit longer. "Ya keep me happy in everything, and I'll let ya live yer life as independently as ya want. Just keep in mind that ya're mine, an' that ya're first an' most important job is ta keep me happy in everything."
Despite the hand securely on her chin, Irbis felt her jaws clench of their own volition and she took a deep breath, to control the wave of rebellion that burnt through her veins. "No. 'Mine' is objects, things. I have my life, my choice, my... my freedom. I am your... uh... lover, I think is de word. I am your lover, not 'yours'."
He grinned lightly, like a naughty child that has just glimpsed an immediate opening for something he wanted, and she felt aggravated, at the same time as a stupid and unasked for wave of embarrassment no doubt coloured her cheeks. "Next time you come," she blurted suddenly, roughly. "Next time."
There was a dangerous glitter in his eyes, but her body reacted to it with the strength of a kick to the stomach. "Girl, ya got a glare that can make a lesser man fall t'his knees."
Aggravation and embarrassment mixed into shock that stung like a slap, and she pushed his hand off her face, unable to bear the man's gaze. Breathing hard, she swallowed at the light tug on her hair. "Oh, the lil' girl don't like bein' complimented, huh? Is that it? A nice, pretty lil' girl like ya don't like no flattery?"
"You say I can be independent, right?" she blew out of nowhere, looking back at him and trying her best to pretend she hadn't reacted so strongly to his nice, teasingly intense praise. If he had intended it as praise. He was grinning like a wolf about to eat Little Red Riding Hood when he nodded affirmatively.
"Então, I don't stay in your house. I have my house and... and..." Damn, she had to force herself to say it. "When you want... uh... you... uh... you come to my house, or you call me and I go to your house and... and... pronto."
The grin faded and he cocked an eyebrow. It suddenly occurred to her that it might be a good idea to not push his limits until they had... well, done it for the first time. No need to turn what was bound to be an awkward and perhaps a bit painful situation into just plain painful, right? After all, it had felt so good, every time he'd touched her so far; she didn't want that to change. However, she couldn't force herself to dilute her assertiveness with a more subdued 'please', or 'is dat ok', or similar.
But then he grinned, amused.
"Seems t'me, I'd be loosin' wi'that deal. Ya'll have t'throw somethin' in t'make it worth while."
He was so playing with her. Give him what? No, he had said she could be independent, and if she was bound to become his... lover was not the right name for it, if it was only sex. But that didn't matter right now. She was going to have her own life, away from his. He might drop in every now and then, but she was going to have her own independent life.
"Um adiantamento," she said. "I don't know in English... when you pay a percentage to promise dat you are going to pay de rest later?"
"An advance on sex?" He snickered. "That's a new one."
Irbis wasn't about to let him choose something else, though, and she quickly pushed away blankets to swiftly straddle the man's legs. He'd had his knees pulled up, but he grinningly lowered them for her. There was amusement shining in his gorgeous golden eyes and her strength nearly failed her.
'You don't love him,' she told herself. "It's only sex. Just that. If you could make out with Miguel and with Carlos and with Pedro, then you can make out with him without any problems. It's just about sex. Just..."
"Clodes stay like dey are," she set down the rules. "It can touch everywhere, but only on top off de clodes; no hands inside de clodes. OK?"
His hands found her waist and she bit down a gasp, swallowing hard. No one's touch had ever felt like that before. Forcing herself to maintain her cool, she put her hands over his shoulders and felt around how big and strong they were before leaning over for a kiss. As she did so, she remembered Pedro, her first boyfriend, and the nervousness as she had kissed him the first few times. This wasn't the same nervousness, though, even if in both situations there was a voice asking if she was doing the right thing; then, she hadn't had half her body burning of expectation. Then her lips hadn't been tingling with the anticipation, ablaze with pleasure as they grazed against his. It was all a novelty that reinforced the awkwardness of what she was doing, and she couldn't help but retreating slightly after that first tantalising touch, bending her head a bit more for better access and once more hesitating just before reaching his lips, only to meet them, kiss them lightly and again retreat.
"Ya wanna keep this as an advance, I suggests ya get down t'business an' keep the teasin' to a minimum, girl." Irbis jumped back and could clearly see he wasn't grinning as he said it, even having a slight frown.
"Sorry, I... uh..."
Jesus, the man was probably thinking she'd never made out in her life. A bit longer and he'd think she'd never even kissed: what other reason would he think of for her hesitation? But on the other had, he could just take the matter in his own hands and take the initiative, the way he had done when he'd gone up to her bedroom. She nervously pulled her hair back and nodded a 'ready, go' to herself. Then she let her hands slide to the back of his neck and toyed with a few strands of the man's short hair.
It was now or never. Heart pounding in her chest, she looked him straight in the eye and froze. God, she was acting like a 12 year old! Had she forgotten how to kiss in the last two years? She bit her lower lip. No, but maybe she had never learnt how to kiss properly. That was an embarrassing thought, but it wasn't her fault if the guys she had kissed had never done their job the way Creed had. And yet, Creed would certainly end up commenting on her kissing skills and she didn't want him laughing at her when she was taking the first step. After all, he might think that he was overwhelming her... hmm... kissing skills? when he kissed her; but if it was she starting the kiss, then it could only be incompetence. Maybe that was a bit too strong, but being branded as inexperient didn't sit any better with her ego.
Creed breathed out impatiently but said nothing. He was still frowning, and Irbis decided to just make a move and avoid the problem. Forcing her eyes away from his, she focused on his neck and kissed it lightly. But then she remembered that he had said she was teasing when she had kissed his lips lightly and kissed his neck more fully. On an impulse that her boyfriends had never truly enjoyed, she nibbled him; her teeth pinching him lightly. His scent was inebriating and she unwittingly pulled her body closer to his, as she continued exploring, coming up to his ear lobe and once more biting on it and enjoying its meaty feel.
"Whatch'ya doin'?"
The tone of boredom hit her harder than anything she had ever been told and she tried to unstradle him in an automatic reaction, seething inside. But he still had his hands around her waist, so he didn't have any trouble aborting her attempt to get away and sitting her back on his lap. His eyes didn't have any power over her this time, if anything they further aggravated her wounded pride.
"Obviamente, I'm not doing anything you like."
He grinned at her. "But ya are now. Ya need t'get some more o' that spirit inta yer kissin', girl." Still aggravated, she felt her chin pout and quickly looked away from him, to stop it from becoming evident to the man. But it was stupid, since he had obviously seen it.
"All my boyfriends like it," she said in a childish attempt both to assert her experience and to put the blame on him, rather than her.
"Ya ain't playin' with boys, now," his voice sounded a bit annoyed and she glanced at him, aggravation giving way to dismay. "Maybe I ought t'drop ya on Ruth's lap, have her stretch yer horizons a bit. Explain t'ya what real men are after."
That cut far more deeply than she had ever thought possible, and she once more looked away, this time trying to send back the tears that were burning her eyes. His hands let go of her waist, but she didn't move. Not even when he picked one of her hands did she move a single muscle in her body. Only when he kissed her palm, sending shivers powerful enough to make her gasp and arch her back, did she return her attention to him.
"That was light an' lame. Nice if ya're teasin'..." he narrowed his eyes for a moment before continuing. "Provokin'. But ya can't keep on that note fer long or ya're gonna lose my interest in no time. And if ya gonna go inta nibblin'..."
He grabbed her hand securely and bit down, his fangs actually breaking skin. Irbis blinked, gasping at the fact that it hadn't hurt. That is, it had sent a jolt of pain, but... it hadn't really hurt. He licked his lips, his intense gaze once more eliciting a knee-jerk reaction from her body.
"I suggests ya do it right."
Irbis felt her throat dry and swallowed hard. "Kiss me," she said breathlessly. "I... No one ever kissed me like you and I... I don't..."
He pulled her closer to him again and she melted into his arms when his fingers mingled through her hair, pulling it taut and making her whole skin crawl with electric pleasure.
"Ya have better be a fast learner," he whispered in her ear.
The End
...
Well, no, not really.
If you you're enjoying and you're curious about what is going to happen next, follow Irbis's attempt to remain independent in the next installment, Taking the Tiger by the Fangs. It will involve X-Men (though not many) and Jubilee will show up quite a few times before Creed finally decides to collect what is his.
If you read till the end, please leave a review mentioning what you liked and disliked the most. Your feedback, even if only one sentence long, will help me to keep improving my writing skills.
Thank you.