The Cellar Ch. 01

"We didn't see you at lunch today... or dinner. Actually, we didn't see you at group either. Are you feeling alright?"

Joelle tried to take the focus off her pain by centering it on Annette. She was a pretty woman, not stunning, certainly not unattractive, simply pretty. Thin laugh lines courted the edges of her mouth, a feathering of creases played against her eyes and Joelle assumed she hovered near forty. Clearly she works out a lot, Joelle noted, eyeing her toned figure.

The distraction wasn't working though and the pain gnawed at her like a feral beast.

"I'm just a little fried, I think I'm still detoxing a little," Joelle offered.

Annette sat at the edge of the bed, causing the mattress to bend, sending a tsunami of pain through every ounce of muscle in her trembling body.

"You're in pain," Annette assessed as she examined Joelle's agonized expression.

"Nope," she blurted as the air burst from her lungs, "everything's good."

"Your stomach?" Annette asked, nodding to Joelle's arms, locked tightly around her waist.

"I just slammed into a table, stupid me, I've always been clumsy," she forced a smile.

"Let me see." Annette peeled back the covers.

"Really, I'm fine," Joelle protested.

"Jo, please, I'd rather not call in Doctor Briggs if I don't have to, but one way or another, one of us is taking a peek," Annette insisted.

"Fine," she huffed. Joelle delicately pulled the nightie to her waist, gingerly rolling the hem past her ribs.

"Oh my," Annette gasped, gawking at the expanse of angry purple flesh. "I'm getting the nurse, you'll need to stay in medical tonight, I'll page Briggs when I get back to my office."

"Really, that's not necessary," she protested.

"It most certainly is necessary." Annette rose quickly from the bed and stormed out without another word.

* * *

Lucien paced the length of his sanctuary, vacillating between raging anger and punishing remorse. Who was this woman? Certainly he had desired her, even demanded her, but she was now turning his very perfect world into a complete nightmare. How ridiculous, he thought, to be consumed by someone so inconsequential.

The clattering of feet pulled him from his internal ranting and he focused on their sound, the distraction providing a moment of much needed relief. The footfalls seemed familiar yet he knew they were not Joelle's, hers he would recognize from beyond the gates of hell. It took but a moment longer to discern their host, the scent of their owner hitting him long before the voice.

"Lucien!" Annette screeched as she barged into his den.

"Annette, always a pleasure." He nodded genteelly.

"Don't fuck with me Lucien, screwing her was not part of the deal."

"My apologies, I was not aware it would offend you so greatly. But in my defense, we never discussed 'screwing'."

"It was never discussed because I was led to believe, by your own admission, that it wasn't possible," she shrieked.

Lucien winced from the unpleasantness of her tone. "I believe the words I used were 'ill advised'."

Annette scoffed. "You just couldn't keep your hands off her could you?" You'd think after all this time you'd be impervious to that kind of mindless desire. Thank goodness her mother's a drunk, otherwise I'd have one hell of a time explaining why she's going to be in medical for the next few days!"

"Medical?" He cocked his brow.

"Briggs said he'd never seen bruising like that before, you tore that girl apart. Touch her again and you'll wish you were back in hell, are we clear?"

"Crystal." Lucien smiled. "And her name is Joelle, I would prefer you refer to her as such."

"Shit head!" Annette stormed out in much the same manner she stormed in, leaving a swirling wake of unpleasantness behind.

"It's going to take forever to air out this room," he growled.

Lucien roamed the grounds, looking for a distraction, waiting for Annette's car to leave before he went to see Joelle. When it was finally gone he pushed purposefully into the medical suite, nodded once at a napping orderly, and slipped into Joelle's bed.

"You're injured," Lucien's soothing voice nudged her awake. "Let me see," he whispered, lightly tugging at the hem of her nightgown.

"Please don't touch me," she quavered, her face twisted in pain.

"I do not intend to hurt you," he asserted.

"Again," she countered.

"Again," he sighed, "Now, let me see."

With a painful tilt of her hips, Joelle carefully worked the gown past her waist, exposing the purple striations against her pale skin.

With his fingertips, he delicately traced the edges of the expanding bruises. "I should never have yielded to you, please... forgive me."

He had never before begged forgiveness and his mind could not reconcile this divergence from his true nature. What troubled him more was his absolute desire to be ingratiated into the world of this strange creature. She was a near constant distraction and now that he'd tasted her, he found all others unsavory.

For a moment he considered killing her, that would easily resolve the quandary, yet his chest ached at the mere notion. How strange, he thought, promptly brushing it off.

"You won by the way," she whimpered.

"Won?" he asked quizzically.

"You definitely terrified me."

"That is hardly consolatory and certainly not a game I wished to win."

"It wasn't meant as a jab," she offered. "Will you stay with me tonight? The heat of your skin soothes my aches."

"There is nothing like a little well deserved guilt to woo a demon," he chortled. "Allow me to soothe your aches."

Lucien gently kissed the embossed reminders of his finger, emblazoned along the fine skin of her waist, and travelled the luxurious curve of her hip. Her scent was hypnotic and he found himself lingering below her navel. The redolence of pain and pleasure swirled like the bouquet of fine wine from between her silky thighs. He nestled his cheek in the well of her abdomen as his fingers traced along the escarpment of her most delicate flesh.

Her essence called to him, begging to be plucked, offering itself in unfettered sacrifice. She had no idea her power over him, his absolute desire to be sated only by her.

His finger gently caressed the splendor of her furrows as he thought of her taste, his tongue remembering the hypnotic ambrosia lingering deep inside.

So easily she spread for him despite the agonizing pain he knew to dwell between her walls. Tonight he would be delicate, careful with her. Tonight he would soothe her ache while satisfying his own.

The heat of his breath against her raw, swollen skin brought such relief Joelle found herself shifting her hips, allowing him better advantage of her flesh.

His tongue, at first of wave of agonizing pain, travelled in soft delicate coils around the folds of her lips, strangely comforting the raging flesh beneath.

The first waves of spasm tore through her in violent eruptions, releasing a deluge of the elixir he so desperately craved.

He groaned as he relished the potion that flowed from her and she trembled from the painful delight of having fulfilled him.

Her hips bore down against his tongue, eager to feel his soothing warmth inside her, more eager to provide what he so clearly desired. It seemed a bizarre reaction to want someone who had so painfully scarred her. Yet, when he was beside her, she could think of nothing but the taste of his skin and the feel of his flesh.

Joelle pulled the pillow across her face, biting down against the seam as his lips locked firmly in place, plunging his tongue deeper still as he sucked the remnants of nectar which lingered deep inside.

His mouth stay seated there, tethered to her, until the twitching in her abdomen ceased and her breathing softened. But as soon as he released, a surge of pain roared through her body and her muscles tensed to the point of convulsion.

Despite his desire to leave her, guilt took over, flooding what meager conscience he possessed, and he felt compelled to comfort her. For the first time in his entire existence, he chose to remain.

Lucien tucked her into his chest and wrapped himself around her in a warm embrace. She whinged for a moment but fell quickly asleep and he watched captivated for hours, as she breathed.

Feeling guilt for her was uncomfortable. So he determined that, under no circumstances, would Joelle hurt again, if only for the selfish reason of sparing himself more grief.

As the first act of this new vow, he would not touch her for reasons other than comfort, until she had fully mended.

Lucien visited every night and to Joelle's absolute surprise, he came for no other reason than to lay with her. Only after the bruises and aches had faded completely, did he visit her again with passionate eyes.