Two by Day, Three by Night Page 16

  Marcas smacked the crop lightly against his leg as he strolled around her, occasionally touching her body with his fingers, or running the palm of his hand over a smooth curve. These indifferent caresses served to remind her of his physical presence, and that he was in command. He rested the length of the long, black leather-wrapped whip across her buttocks and, with a quick flick of his wrist, applied it sharply to the tender, stretched flesh.

  Courtney yelped, straightening to grab her bottom with her hands. Marcas frowned, wordlessly pointing to the floor. He ignored the piteous look on her face and waited for her to obey. Whimpering, Courtney lowered her hands to her ankles again. Her mind raced with thoughts of escape, but she was powerless to go against her own heart. She loved him. This was part of who he was and to deny this would be to deny him. She took a deep breath and resumed her uncomfortable position.

  Swish! The crop smacked sharply along the crease between her bottom and her thighs. Courtney released a shriek of pain, but stayed in place except for springing up and down on her toes. A third lash marked the protruding globes, coloring them with a vivid dark pink stripe. Three more times, the crop painted color into Courtney’s pale flesh, and she began to bounce wildly, wiggling her bottom to avoid more of the same.

  She was relieved when Marcas tossed the crop onto a chair and ran his hand across her stinging skin, checking her carefully for damage. His concern touched her and guilt for her behavior grew more profound. Tears began to fall unwillingly, pooling into a puddle on the dark hardwood floor.

  “Go stand in the corner, hands of your head, until I summon you.”

  Courtney hung her head, and did as she was told. She listened as he exited the room and began to cry openly. Marcas heard her tears as he left, making his way down the stairs and into a study where his other half lounged on a chaise, reading a book.

  “You are conflicted,” the other stated as he sat down. Marcas nodded, saying nothing. The other put the book down to look at him. “You must complete what you have started. She had earned this chastisement and must receive it to understand us and herself. You know this as true.”

  “Yes, but my heart is not desiring to bring her pain tonight. I have not had this conflict before. It is… perplexing. I feel a sense of compassion that should not be present.”

  “As I feel a resolve otherwise unknown to my persona. Can you complete your duty to her? If not, I will.”

  “Of course. I would not have you do it,” Marcas derided, ignoring the warning look in the other’s eye. He turned and mounted the long staircase, hearing the echoes of his steps in the great hall. He was pleased to see that Courtney had stayed where she was placed and did not attempt to challenge him again.

  “Courtney, come stand before me,” he said, sitting on the edge of the large chest at the foot of her bed. With tear stained eyes, she looked into his face, waiting with trepidation for his next move. “I love you. I am still astonished with the behavior you demonstrated. Am I to be expecting that in our future years together?”

  “No. It was stupid and sophomoric. I am so sorry. Maybe that’s something I do when I’m desperate. I don’t know what came over me.”

  “You allowed yourself to be free. Unfortunately, you chose a rather poor way to explore it. Across my knees, Courtney.”

  Seconds passed as Courtney stifled her desire to run from his reach. She looked up at him before she placed her naked body over the span of his hard, long thighs. She clutched his left calf for support as he positioned her bottom high in the air, right below his hand.

  “You mark quite nicely, Courtney. I hope one day I will have the chance to mark you in pleasure, not in punishment.”

  “You won’t if I choose your other side,” she mumbled, embarrassment turning her flesh a pale rose.

  He chuckled. “This is true. However, would you be able to live without the passion I bring out of you? And this,” he patted her bottom, “it requires frequent discipline to keep you balanced and without unnecessary stress.”

  “There are other ways to do that,” she argued, hanging tightly to his leg as she felt herself spilling forward more.

  “For other women, perhaps, but not for you. I wish you to take this punishment to heart, Courtney, my love. It is not one I wish to repeat anytime soon.”

  Courtney felt his muscles as he lifted his hand high above his head and then crashed it against her backside. She yelled, not realizing that he held the wide, thick belt firmly in his grip. It burned deeply and she furiously began to kick her feet.

  “That hurts! Marcas!!!! Ow! No more! Owwww!” she cried out, flailing frantically and twisting to escape the onslaught of heavy, scorching blows that covered the entirety of her heart-shaped bottom on each stroke. One and another, the belt landed cleanly, bringing her flesh to a scarlet glow within minutes. He held her firmly, and with avid determination, brought the first part of the lesson home. She would never try to bring harm to herself again, for any reason whatsoever. Courtney sobbed out her promises to him, that she would never use his love against him again. He ended the strapping with a final five, hard lashes to the tops of her thighs.

  Courtney did not see the odd expression on his face, or the blurring that occurred when the two sides momentarily melded. She only felt her pain, in both her body and her heart. She stayed face first over his lap and cried into the fabric of his trousers. Marcas placed his hand on the hot, crimson globes and inhaled deeply.

  “That was for trying to bring yourself harm,” he announced. “This is because I love you and never want to lose you.”

  His hand briskly smacked her bruised skin, making her weep contritely as he joined the cadence of the spanking with a lecture about love and trust. No longer having the energy to kick or squirm, Courtney simply cried her agreement and apologies, begging his forgiveness and issuing promises of better behavior in the future. Again, she was oblivious to the blurring as the sides temporarily connected, knowing only that the wonderful man she had fallen for was gravely disappointed and that she needed to make amends.

  Her bottom shook convulsively under his hand as he slowed his pace and surveyed his work. Assured that she would be remembering this instruction for a reasonable amount of time, he paused mid-stroke and placed his hand on the small of her back.

  “Do you feel that this was deserved, my love?” he asked softly.

  “Yes, Marcas. I really, really am sorry,” she cried.” Please, forgive me.”

  “You are forgiven. Must I place you in the corner for a final reminder of how you are expected to behave?”

  “No, sir,” Courtney whispered, facing the floor.” I promise. I will remember.”

  He gently sat her up, careful of her swollen, tender rear end and thighs. He pulled a sheet from the bed and wrapped it around her naked body as he cradled and rocked her on his lap. Courtney wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him before burying her face into his chest and started crying again. He held her securely, the depth of her tears unlocking the hardness of his heart. He felt hot wetness flow down his cheeks and a sense of absolute peace settled over him. For the first time, he understood his other side and wished to be part of it.

  Placing Courtney on her stomach on the bed and covering her with a blanket, he kissed her cheek with a promise to return shortly. He rested against the door frame and took a deep, cleansing breath. He turned to see his other half approaching him.

  “I sensed you needed me,” he said, confusion dancing over his handsome brow.

  Marcas nodded. “The melding… it happened twice. And then I felt peace in my heart. What is happening to us?”

  “I don’t know for certain. I felt these things too, and your turmoil as well. We are needing one another because of this woman.”

  “Not only that, I feel we are understanding our purpose. I don’t feel hatred towards you as I have for what I thought was weakness. Your compassion… it’s very strong.”

  “Nor do I feel animosity towards your hardness, which I had viewed as
brutality. Your sense of right and wrong… it is necessary.”

  “I wish you to join us in bed tonight. Courtney needs our attention,” Marcas stated, surprising the other half. He nodded and quietly entered the chamber. Without a word he filled a washbowl with cool water and brought it to the bedside. He placed a wet cloth upon Courtney’s bruises, shaking his head sadly as he met the eyes of the other. That half was on his side next to her, stroking her hair and shoulders as she continued to weep into the pillow she held beneath her.

  “I love you,” both said together, their voices in stereo. Courtney nodded, unable to talk, and the halves smiled at one another. Perhaps there was hope that the three could survive together in harmony, despite the curse.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Shortly after midnight, Courtney pulled herself up into a sitting position in bed, wincing as she untangled herself from the two sets of arms that held her sandwiched between two long, lean bodies. She slid down to the end of the bed and off the edge, and then tiptoed into the bathroom. Something felt terribly wrong and she sunk to her knees on the tiled floor after grabbing a cool, wet cloth for her face. She ignored the throbbing ache that settled in her posterior as she leaned her back against the sink. She could not get her eyes to focus and her hands shook as she tried to calm the nausea that surged her stomach, placing her cheek on the cold floor as the room reeled around her.

  “Marcas?! Marcas, I need you…” she called out weakly, hoping with all her might that he could hear her. Both sprung out of bed and raced to the doorway, looking disheveled and worried. She pointed to her kit on top of the counter. “One of you, please check me. Something’s not right. I feel so sick.”

  “Can I get anything for you?” one asked as the other methodically pricked her finger and watched the meter.

  “430. Courtney, this is from today’s impulsiveness, yes?” he asked, measuring her insulin pen and quickly injecting it. “You did not take your medication?”

  She shook her head, leaning against the one who held her. “No. I wanted… I wanted to believe in your miracles. I wanted to believe that I could be healed from this disease. I hate that it has taken control of my life. I also wanted to believe it would go away, because if I could be healed…”

  “Then Sebastian could be healed as well,” he finished her sentence. “Miracles do not work like that, precious. Come, let’s put you back to bed,” he said, reaching over to stroke her face as she was lifted off the floor by the other.

  “I’m such a fool,” she muttered, her arms around his neck and her forehead resting on his chin as he carried her to the bed and set her down with gentleness. “I can’t believe I was such an idiot.”

  “There is nothing foolish in wanting to believe in miracles,” he said, resting her on her side and tucking a blanket around her. “The mistake occurred when you tried to force a miracle to happen.”

  “Will you be alright? Do we need to take you to the hospital?” the other asked, running his hand up and down her leg.

  “No, just check on me again in an hour and re-inject if needed. I’ll be ok. I promise,” she said quietly, seeing the concern on their faces. They began to blur before her, merging into one person. She rubbed her eyes. “Marcas? What’s happening?” She sounded scared.

  “We converged. Our love and concern for you does this to us. It won’t last long.”

  “Hold me. Don’t let go. I’m so afraid for us.”

  “Shhh, little Courtney, all will be well. Trust me.”

  Courtney buried herself in his arms, her face against his chest and inhaled his warm, clean scent. She also missed the feeling of having him wrapped around her back while she slept and the comfort that came with being fortressed on both sides. For the first time since she was a child, she began to pray.

  * * *

  She opened her eyes several hours later, finding herself once again between the two warm bodies and held snugly by their arms. She watched as the breaking of the dawn pulled the torn soul back into one, and the pain on his face as he slept. She gently shook him awake.

  “Marcas? Does it hurt? When you’re divided in two?”

  “Yes,” he answered, his voice tired and strained. “Less now than before. And the joining… that has changed as well. It is euphoric.”

  “It does?”

  “Before, the renting felt as though I was shorn in two, now it is nothing more than an uncomfortable itch that you cannot reach. And when we come back together, we are drenched in a sweet dizziness. It leaves a sense of tranquility.”

  “What does that mean? That you are being rewarded for coming together?”

  “Right now, my darling, it means that I’m too tired to talk and I can’t think straight. Please, can this wait?”

  “Of course, I’m sorry. Turn your back to me. I want to hold you,” Courtney said, pushing him over. Grunting, Marcas complied and she wrapped her cold body to spoon his, feeling him pull her hand close to his heart. She kissed his back and pressed her cheek around his warm, soft skin, considering what he had told her. She hoped that Sebastian’s Brothers would arrive soon. There was one who had the answers she needed and she hoped he would be willing to speak with her.

  Marcas doted over her the entire morning, and kept her under his watchful eyes as he checked her blood sugar, brought her tea, and, much to her embarrassment, generously padded her chairs with pillows. After several inquiries from Sebastian, she finally admitted that she had made a stupid mistake and had come dangerously close to harming herself. He squeezed her hand, winking as he inquired Marcas’ reasons behind the abundance of pillows.

  “She needs to be quiet and comfortable,” Marcas snapped at his old friend.

  “I’m sure that sitting on a sore behind that you’ve gifted her with is not her idea of comfortable,” Sebastian retorted, much to Courtney’s mortification.

  “Had she not challenged me, she would not be in this position. No more of this teasing. She must rest. More tea?” he asked the blushing young woman.

  “You’re going to make me float away. Enough already. I’m stable. You aren’t going to leave me with any blood if you keep testing me.” Courtney grabbed his hand, looking up into his silver eyes. “But thank you for caring for me. I do appreciate it.”

  A smile lit his face and he ran the back of his fingers down the length of her cheek. “I will always care for you with both love and discipline.”

  “I’m guessing there is no avoiding the discipline part, is there?” she asked, wrinkling her nose.

  He tapped the freckles speckled across the bridge of her perk nose. “Not the discipline, but you can avoid the punishment. Choose the soft side of me and the only spankings you’ll receive are those in teaching and to better yourself. The other side of me will have you pay severely for wrongdoings, and use your body for his pleasure only.”

  “But your softer side is so serious and all business. When is there time for play?”

  “That is the chance you must take if you choose that part of me. The other side, that which you refer to as ‘mean’, is able to play and explore because it thrives on self-gratification and pleasure. It tends to be irresponsible and short-tempered. More?”

  “No, thank you. Sebastian? Marcas melded last night when he was taking care of me. Do you know what is happening?” Courtney asked as Marcas left them to speak to the groundskeeper.

  “I suspect he is coming to acceptance of his differences with you as the catalyst. That is not enough to break the curse on its own, though. His sides must respect, acknowledge, and embrace all things about each other and be willing to completely cross over. Even the most peaceful of men find the absolute acceptance and love of self to be nearly impossible.”

  “Will it harm him if the curse isn’t broken? If I don’t choose a side?”

  “Physically? No. But mentally and emotionally, it is quite possible. He would never feel at peace until he was in complete harmony with his other half and not feel at war with it. That is like asking oil to live wi
th water.”

  Courtney sighed, watching as Marcas pointed out areas to the workers. His gestures were fluid movements like that of a conductor over a grand symphony orchestra and his body casted a shadow on the ground which made him appear to be larger than life. How could someone be so incredibly strong and confident and yet not be able to come to terms with who they were? It perplexed her.

  “It shouldn’t, my dear…” Sebastian said casually, watching her face.

  “What are you talking about?” Startled, Courtney turned to him.

  “It should not be hard to understand why it is so difficult for him. When was the last time you allowed your other side to be set free?”

  “Well, yesterday. But…”

  “Before yesterday. It was when that man broke your heart, wasn’t it? The very first time you gave yourself permission to be reckless and irresponsible, and act only on your feelings and body’s needs. And, when you were hurt, you vowed never to allow yourself to be so vulnerable again. You have hidden this part of you all your life. The only difference between you and Marcas is that he did not hide it. Rather, he struggled openly against it as he allowed it to emerge, and then the curse forced him to visit it every night. You have a choice to let yours out. He does not.”

  “There is nothing wrong with being self-controlled, Sebastian.”

  “When your self-control pushes away your chance for love and happiness, I would say there is something wrong. But then, I’m an old man with very little time left after nearly a century on this earth, so what would I know…”

  “Enough of the guilt, it’s not gonna work.”