[I have finally decided to finish up this story. This is the second chapter; if you haven't read the first, read it before this one! There is no sex in this chapter, just plot development. Let me know what you think!]
*
Ahren couldn't think clearly. Fuck, he thought, how did I get into this mess? It wasn't supposed to be this way. Luckily, he had his own room, so no one was going to barge in on him. But people would be upset when they realized Lena was missing. Although, he thought with a smirk, it wasn't unusual for her to spend a night on her own.
His face paled when he looked at her on his bed. He'd tried to do everything for her---he'd washed her, made her drink some water, rubbed her hands and feet. She'd come out of it a bit, and had fallen asleep, a little dazed. Now she was clean and under his covers, her brown hair spayed against the pillow, her lids closed and eyelashes damp.
He still wanted her. He regretted what he did, but only because he hurt her. He couldn't regret her tight pussy and her moans and the feeling of dark control, of possessing her. Even now his cock got hard just thinking of what he could do to her, what he could make her to do him.
He'd never been one to force himself on anyone; he'd had plenty of bitches. They were practically throwing themselves on him after his shows, most of them high on his image and god knows what else. But Lena was different than the girls, he mused, his eyes staring darkly. She and him---they understood each other. They made fun of the crowds, she got his references. He could pass the time with her without fucking. It was fun to just bullshit.
They had an understanding together. She wanted Myer, he wanted no one. They both held onto being hard and cynical; they cherished it, needed it. Maybe that's why he had to get in her, had to clash with her, to prove that the darkness was more powerful. But he didn't expect her to suddenly turn soft and vulnerable.
Fuck this shit, he thought, rubbing his temple. Bitch is driving me crazy. I'll do what needs to be done, then it'll be out of my hair.
****
Lena woke with a start, sweaty and frightened. She was in her own room, under her blanket, fully clothed. Her bra was digging into her skin and she felt nauseous. She got up shakily and was in the shower when it hit her, everything that happened. She stumbled and almost fell, gripping the curtain. I'm not ready for this, she thought. Then she turned up the shower and began to scrub.
It was two hours before she felt clean enough to get out. She looked in the mirror, but she didn't look much different, except a bit more wide-eyed and pale. Why did he do it, she groaned. Why? It wasn't as if she had men on her every day, he couldn't have picked someone else?
And a little voice of shame crept up. You liked it, you liked what he was doing. You wanted it. You wanted more of him. Stop it, she told that dark voice. You go away.
Lena stalked back to her room, rummaging through her clothes. What kind of person was she? And who the hell was he? She'd been so afraid after, and then had vague foggy memories of his cleaning her, and then taking her back. How could she incorporate the gentleness with the cruelty she'd seen? And why did she feel so discarded? It was surely better now that she didn't have to see him, to face it. Yes, she thought. She didn't have to face it, no one would have to know. She was good at pretending; most people saw only what they wanted to see, and she would deliver.
****
It had been weeks since what Lena thought of as "the incident". She was feeling just fine, thank you. She'd played her part well, even more so, going to parties and drinking more heavily than she was used to. She was the life of the party, and she hadn't even seen him around to remind her. Which was unusual, she thought, but okay. Even if she did, she would be fine. She firmly nodded to herself as she stepped out of the Jane Austen workshop. It was the best class she'd had this semester, and fulfilled one of her creative writing requirements.
"That was amazing!" Jan said, catching up with her.
Lena looked at her roommate. "Yeah, I know. I don't think Prof Hendrickson likes it though. Getting together a bunch of Jane Austen enthusiasts can be dangerous."
"Hmmm.... I know. All the talk of true love must make Prof Hotty really uncomfortable. I bet just about everyone wants to bang him." Jan, a busty redhead, wriggled her eyebrows and thrust her breasts forward. "Can you imagine him in bed? Oh, Mr. Daaaaaawcy!" She licked her lips and grinned.
