The Possessive Creator (Book I)

(16) Present

(16) Present: 2012

We crashed into another wall, our lips grinding together almost painfully. His hands tore my shirt in half and removed all clothing covering my skin by practically shredding it. I had my hand in his hair, pulling his body closer. I invited him to my neck, practically humming when his lips brushed my throat teasingly. Slowly, I planted kissed down his chest, now feeling impatient. We crashed into the pile of hay, when suddenly he stopped kissing and grabbed my hip.

“What is this?” he demanded, his finger tracing from my hip to my belly button.

“It doesn’t matter.” I placed my hands on either side of his face and crushed my lips to his.

Pulling away quickly, he traced my skin again. “Lucy, what the hell is this?”

I groaned loudly. Could I not have a good moment? “It is a tattoo, Xavier,” I replied.

His anger most likely was a combination of things. For one, he hated tattoos and told me I was to never get one. This was why I got one several years after escaping him. Two, someone saw more flesh than he would have permitted. And lastly, the tattoo itself was probably enough to push him over the edge.

“What the hell is this thing?”

I stood up and pointed to the symbol first that was on my hip. “This means to die young, and beside that is the names of people that I miss,” I told him honestly. On my hip, beside the symbol, was the name Gina. And then, above the name Axel was a tiny symbol that meant respect. Judging by Xavier’s expression, he knew very well what the symbol meant. Seeing his ex-friends’ name, whom he had killed many years back, his expression turned to fury.

 My first reaction was panic. What if he came at me with a piece of sandpaper and began scratching away Axel’s name until he hit bone? I couldn’t believe that I almost slept with Xavier! He just stared at the tattoo with fury. As I was reaching for my bag that held a shirt to wear, he grabbed me by my hips and began to scan my skin for any more markings.

“What else do you have? Do you have a portrait of the man? Maybe you have a teary poem about his death?” he growled, his hands touching my skin in search for another tattoo.

“Stop it!” I hissed, slapping his hands away violently. I hadn’t felt this violated since the last time we were together. I covered my body with my arms and backed away from him.

“You have his name on your body! Did you love him? Did you make love to him and lie about it to me? Did he do a good—“

My hand came in contact with his cheek before he could finish his revolting comment. This was the first time I really was able to stop him. He seemed astonished by my action.

“You listen to me. Don’t you dare insult Axel’s name like that. I’m not afraid of you anymore! Hell, I’ll take another whack at you if you try touching me like that again.”

He looked as if he were about to smash his fists into a wall at any moment. I’d never felt as awkward as now. Standing in a barn, naked, while arguing furiously with my creator was the last thing I thought would happen. That moment of what now? Went through my head as I stared at my creator in front of me.

“I don’t know why I’m telling you this, but I never slept with Axel. I haven’t been with any guy but you—“ I stopped talking, shocked that I had admitted to that much.

He tilted his head to the side at my words. “You haven’t been with anyone other than me?” he questioned seriously.

Well, there was no backing out now. “No, I haven’t.”