Prologue
Alexa turned off the shower taps, shivering for a moment as the immediate heat of the water left her and the coolness of the room struck her bare flesh. She quickly ran her hands over her skin to shed some water and then sat on the teak bench at the back of the stall and picked up the soap and razor. She lathered under her arms and shaved, then started in on her legs, humming as she shaved in long, smooth strokes. When her legs were shaved, on a whim she decided to shave her pubic hair, carefully stroking the razor over her most private parts until she was bare, the last of the soft, blond curls fallen to the floor.
She stood and turned on the water again, then sat on the bench in the stream and washed all over, taking especial care as she did, humming contentedly. When her shower was done, she towelled off and went to stand before her vanity. Looking herself over in the mirror, she ran a brush through her long hair a few times to straighten it down her back, and then set it aside. She pulled on a pair of white silk panties, shivering at the cool, slick feel of the silk over her bare sex. She rubbed her fingers over the cloth for a moment, the feel of the silk on her bare skin was better than she had thought. She smiled as she looked at herself in the big mirror. Her hands ran up her flat tummy and curled around her ample breasts, squeezing and caressing all at once as a small moan escaped her.
She could feel a deep tingle in her sex and was suddenly very aroused, turned on and in need of... of... something. She furrowed her brow a bit, trying to place the sensation without success. Sighing, she turned in front of the mirror, cupped her breasts with her hands and gave them a tender squeeze then sighed again and reached for the bra that matched her panties. The shelf bra left the upper slopes of her breasts bare, with hints of her pale pink aureole and nipples. Next came the garters about her thighs and the pale stockings that slid up her long, smooth legs. Then she stood and looked in the mirror again, turning from side to side and smiling at what she saw.
"Pure sex." She said softly.
The lingeriΓ© had been chosen for just this reason, because it looked damn good on her by itself. But the gown she was going to wear let just enough of the white silk show to tantalize.
As she was standing there at the mirror, the clock in her bedroom tolled the one o'clock hour and she gasped, swaying slightly as she stood there. For almost five minutes she stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her mouth was open and she gasped occasionally and her body twitched, her eyes unfocused and unblinking. Then she braced herself on the vanity and shook her head, licking her lips and furrowing her brow.
A Clock Strikes One
Alexa felt thirsty, her throat dry and she felt a bit of a headache coming on. She donned a robe and took the brush with her as she left the room. She stepped into her soft lambskin slippers and walked downstairs to get a drink, pulling the brush through her waist-length hair as she went. She paused by the refrigerator and looked out the frost-rimed window across the back yard of her house, at the snow and the hoarfrost on the fence and trees. She sighed again, her brow furrowing as she tried to work something out, but couldn't quite seem to get her mind to focus on it and it slipped through her mind like smoke through her fingers. Shaking her head, she pulled open the door to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of wine. When she closed the door, he was there.
She caught sight of him in her periphery, standing behind the door to the refrigerator and she turned her head, eyes widening, gasping at the sight of this tall, strange man in her house. Her hands went numb, dropping the brush and bottle to the floor as she backpedaled. She looked at his face, trying to see who he was but in the half-light she couldn't seem to focus on him. The bottle hit the floor and by some miracle it didn't shatter instead rolling away with a clatter against the tile floor as he stepped forward, reaching for her. She tried to scream, but the sound caught in her throat. She turned to run, terror clutching at her belly, her feet slipping on the floor and he caught her. He grabbed her long hair and pulled her back, forcing a cry from her throat as pain lanced through her scalp. Her hands came up, trying to grab his arm and make him let her go as he jerked her back against his chest. Her robe came untied, falling open as he brought his arm around her waist, picking her up and turning.
She lashed out with her feet, catching him across the shins and making him cuss. He shoved her then, pushing her forward and she felt the granite top of the kitchen island hit her across the abdomen, knocking he breath from her lungs. She gasped and her throat seized as he hauled back on her hair, sending her practically flying back and into the refrigerator. The back of her head stuck the door hard and she saw stars in her vision as he rounded on her. She could see his eyes, blue and angry, but she couldn't make out his face... something was wrong, something... then he was there, upon her, pressing her between his hard body and the harder refrigerator. His hands caught her wrists and pushed her arms out to the sides as he pressed a leg between hers, forcing her to spread her legs apart as his body, dressed in rough labourers clothes pressed against her nearly naked one. Her breasts were squeezed between them as he forced her arms up and grasped both of her wrists with one hand. She felt pain in her wrists from his hard grip, holding with bruising force as he held them above her head, his other hand coming down to cup her breast through the bra.
He squeezed the soft flesh of her breast and his mouth lowered to her neck, he was only a few inches taller than she was and his mouth found the soft, warm skin where her neck and shoulder met and he gave her a horrifyingly tender kiss. She snapped her leg up, trying to knee him in the crotch and felt her leg hit something hard, a protective cup, but she did manage to anger him, and he snarled something and pivoted, tossing her almost effortlessly to sprawl on the kitchen floor, gasping for breath and staring up in terror as he came. She groped around, trying to scramble away from him and her hand hit something. She groped for it and found the neck of the wine bottle. When he knelt down, she swung the bottle up with all of her strength and she was rewarded with a hard 'clink' as she struck him and he swore again and lashed out, clubbing at her arm with his fist and sending the bottle across the room to shatter against the wall.
She didn't wait to see what he would do, she turned and started to scramble away, trying to get her feet under her but her slippers had no grip and she swore and wept as she tried to get some distance before he could recover. But then he grabbed her ankle and dragged her back. She screamed a denial, her hands slipping on the tile floor and then he knelt down, his weight pressing and pain lancing through her as he knelt on her calf. She screamed and sagged, jerking hard and trying to get away, and he slapped her hard, his hand cracking against her ass. The pain made her body jerk and her back arch, drawing another scream from her. He grabbed her hair again, close to the scalp where it was harder to shake him free, and pulled her up and back. Her knees bent and she thumped back against his chest as his other hand came around and seized her throat, his fingers circled her neck and squeezed, cutting off her air easily.
"Shut. Up."
She could hear the punctuation in each word, he stressed them so each was its own sentence and such was the menace in his voice that she complied, hands grasping at his wrist and fingers, desperately trying to get him to release her, to let her have air. He held on for a long time, and she was seeing stars, the edges of her vision blacking out before he released her. She slumped to the floor, narrowly avoiding cracking her face against the cold tiles. She was coughing, gasping for breath and unable to put up a fight as her robe was dragged off of her shoulders, down her back and arms and then it was gone, leaving her in just her underwear with this stranger. She started sobbing then, at the feel of his rough hands running up her legs to cup her ass and squeeze, hands sliding over the smooth silk and she could feel the hot, rough skin on his hands through the thin, almost sheer fabric.