Rain Falls Ch. 02

I started at Empire. It was the most logical place to find him.

"Hey." I leaned over the counter in the entryway. "Is Eric here?" I asked the door girl.

"Eric who?" she replied, slightly annoyed.

"Tall, dark and Gothic."

She rolled her eyes. "Honey, you just described half the people in here."

"No. Like really tall. Six-six barefooted. Hair down to his waist."

She thought for a second and shook her head. "I don't think so."

"Thanks."

I nearly ran from Swiss to Elm and slowed when I got to Sambuca. The door guy was still there.

"Calvin! Have you seen Eric?" I asked, craning my neck back to look up at him. Calvin was a huge guy. He stood almost seven and a half feet tall and was built like a brick wall. He would have been terrifying except for the fact that he was one of the nicest people that I had ever met.

"Not tonight." His deep, deep voice rumbled through me. "Have you tried Empire?"

"Yeah. Thanks man. If you see him will you tell him that I'm looking for him?"

"Sure, man."

I walked up the street trying to figure out where he would be. 2826 was too preppy. Tommy's was too rock. Clearview was closed. That left me with Industry, all the way at the end of the street. When I got all the way up the street to the warehouse turned dance club, he wasn't there. Dejectedly, I strolled back down the street. I knew where he lived and it was a lot closer than my place but I couldn't get in. He lived in a converted warehouse just on the other side of the highway but it had a gate. In fact, it had a 12' chain link fence, topped by barbed wire, topped by razor wire. It required a garage door opener or a code to trigger it. I didn't have either.

I got more than half-way back down the street and sulked my way into Starlight Café. I still had most of the money I'd made that night, minus the cab fare I spent to get across town before the clubs closed. I decided to get a cup of coffee before heading home. I had a long walk ahead of me.

"Hey Rain, have a bad night?"

I threw myself into a chair at an empty table. I was gearing up for quite a fit. The waiter looked at me with something akin to sympathy. "Hey Jeff. I was trying to find Eric but I guess he's at home."

"Nah, man. He's upstairs," Jeff told me.

"Seriously? Fuck!" I bolted from the chair and ran up the stairs along the far wall. There were a few people that I knew on the balcony but not Eric. I crossed through and went up the back stairwell to the roof. He was at a table for four that had six chairs pulled up to it with people in all of them. I didn't care about any of them. I only had eyes for Eric. I didn't go over. I just pushed my jacket back, slipped my hands in my pants pockets and waited at the top of the stairs for him to notice me. I didn't wait long.

He was leaning back in his chair with his eyes narrowed in that deceptively bored look he got when he was irritated. His eyes widened when they locked with mine. His lips turned up just slightly and he dropped his hands into his lap and crossed his legs at the knee. I smiled at him and he arched one eyebrow. He'd said that he wouldn't come to me and he meant it. He was going to make me come to him. I pulled my hands out of my pockets and crossed the small rooftop terrace.

I stood next to his chair but didn't say anything. He reached up and pulled me into his lap amidst clapping and catcalls from the group at the table. I smiled and wrapped my arms around his neck.

"Take me home, Eric," I whispered into his ear.

"No," he smirked. "You made me wait now you can wait."

I grinned at him. I was happy that he wasn't going to make me beg in front of everyone.

It was nearly 5:00 am before he took me back to his place. Eric was an artist and his place was always scattered with various pieces in partially completed states. He was popular and he did a lot of commission work for clubs and private collectors but his passion was the macabre. There were times when his place resembled a ghoulish scene straight from one of the latest slasher films. There were frequently miscellaneous body parts lying around in graphically rendered states of decomposition. In the year that I had been seeing him I had learned to judge his state of mind by the pieces that he was working on. Based on the fact that he'd murdered quite a few mannequins, there was a great deal of gore, and he had nothing in the works that I would consider lively, he was upset.

He slid the warehouse door closed, turned to me and uttered one word. "Beg."

I shook my head. "I'm not here for that, Eric. I'm here to talk."

He scoffed. "Talk? We never talk."

"I know," I smirked. "I think it's time we started."

"I'm not paying you to talk, Rain."

"You're not paying me at all, Eric. I'm here by my own choice."

His eyes widened for a bit as he registered what I'd said. It was the third time I said it but it was the first time he'd caught on. "You called me Eric."

I smiled. "Yeah."

His eyes narrowed into slits. "What do you want?"

"What do you want?" I retorted. "What do you want from me? I need to understand what we're doing here. I need you to tell me."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

I crossed the floor to where he still stood by the door. I got close enough to him that I had to tilt my head back to maintain eye contact. "Do you like me?" I whispered.

He cocked his head with a sad sort of smile and ran his hands down my arms. "Don't you know that already?"

I shook my head.

"Yes I like you, Rain. I more than like you."

"Do you want me, Eric?" I backtracked when I realized how that sounded. "For more than this. Am I just a whore to you? I need to know. I'm not trying to-"

"I know you're not," he interrupted. "I thought that you knew this. I don't... I'm not good at this, Baby. This..." He swept his hand indicating his work all around us. "This is how I communicate. I'm not good at the talking and sharing thing."

"You're doing fine," I assured him. "Just stay with me for a little longer. I just need a few more answers. Ok?"

He nodded.

"Do you want to be with me? Like, a couple? Like my boyfriend?"

"Fuck," he groaned and looked up at the 20' high ceiling. "I'd love that, Rain but I can't. I want to but I'm not good at that either. I will fuck you over. It's what I do. I always fuck up everything that I care about."

"You care about me?" I squeaked.

His chuckle was hardly more than a breath. "More than you realize, obviously." He reached up and combed his fingers through my hair. It was the first time that I could remember him doing anything that could be considered sweet or loving. "Yes, I want you. Yes, I care about you. Yes, I would love for you to be my boyfriend."

"But?"

"But... I'm seriously fucked up. Look at my life, Rain. I'm a disaster. I don't want to drag you down with me."

I laughed. "How much further down can I go? I'm a prostitute, Eric. I sell my body. I have no other skills and no prospects. You can't seriously be worried about lowering my standard of living."

He chuckled for real that time. "We're quite a pair, aren't we?"

"What do we do now?" I asked. "Do we try to make it as a couple or do we go back to being John and trick or do we end the whole thing and just walk away from each other?"

"I don't want that," he replied. "I don't want to stop seeing you. The last few weeks have been hell on me. I nearly went bat-shit crazy when I heard that you were working the hotels."

"So what do we do?"

He stared into my eyes for a long time. "Stay with me. Move in with me. I don't want you working anymore. I hate it when you pick up Johns."

"I can't," I told him. "It's too fast. Can we try getting used to the idea of being boyfriends before we jump into a mortgage together?"

He sighed. "See what I mean about being fucked up?"

"It's not fucked up," I argued. "You've known about this for a while. I just figured this out tonight. I need a little adjustment time. Ok?"

He nodded. "Stay with me tonight. We don't have to have sex. I just want you here. Ok?"

I smiled and nodded. "Can we have sex anyway? I'd like it if we could."

He gave me an evil grin. "Only if you beg."

I stood up, on my tippy-toes, and wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him. It wasn't one of the caught up in the heat of the moment kisses that we had shared before. It was intentional, fully engaged and soul-searingly passionate.

"Please, Eric," I pleaded. "I need you inside me."

"On your knees," he growled.

Just like that he'd gone into full on, dominating, force to be reckoned with. I slid down his body and onto my knees immediately. "Please. Use me. Let me pleasure you. Make me yours."

He brushed his thumb over my lips. "Say my name again, Rain and I'll let you suck my dick."

"Eric," I moaned. "Please, Eric."

"Yes." He popped the button of his leather pants and slid the zipper down torturously slowly.

My mouth started to water at the sight of his meaty cock. Even semi-hard, as he was, he had a huge dick. There was a joke about nothing twelve inches coming in white but it was wrong. Fully erect, Eric's cock had to be nearly a foot long. Soft, his cock was a comparable length to mine when I was hard but his was thicker. I wasn't small. In normal worlds I was considered hung at around eight inches. He made me look diminutive.

"Suck it, Rain," he commanded. "I want to come in your mouth."

I gripped the base of his shaft and circled his fat cockhead with my tongue, wetting it, tasting it. He didn't often try to come in my mouth. His cock was huge but he wasn't overly sensitive and it took a long time to get him off orally. My jaw was going to ache like a son-of-a-bitch long before I'd be able to make him come. His dick lengthened and thickened in my hand and in my mouth while I sucked on his head and stroked the shaft. I was a professional and I took pride in my ability to suck cock. Unfortunately, sheer size constraints reduced the amount of skill that I was able to use on him. I had long since eliminated any gag reflex, and I could get his cock in my throat if he wasn't completely hard, but, once he was at full mast, it just didn't fit.

His cock was beautiful, just like the rest of him. He was biggest at the head and I had always thought that if I could just train myself to be able to take the spongy head I could handle the rest. But I had never been able to. I briefly wondered how much my esophagus would stretch before shredding and decided that, being his boyfriend now, I would probably find out. He filled my mouth to capacity and I had to pull off of him to employ any tongue action. With just the head in my mouth, I slid his pants down his hips so I could have access to his balls. He was completely shaved, his entire body was hairless, and I loved sucking on his balls almost as much as he loved it. I couldn't get both of them in my mouth at once without risking hurting him so I had never tried. He was most responsive when I was using my mouth on his balls or his ass, which I couldn't do in the position that we were in.

I licked and sucked his balls while I jacked his cock until he was moaning in pleasure. He groaned when I pulled off him. "Let me rim you, Eric."

"No. I want to come in your mouth."

"Please. I want to taste you. I won't make you come," I begged.

He nodded and turned, bent slightly and flattened his hands out on the door. I ran my hands over his perfect ass and down his lean and muscular thighs. Parting his firm globes with my hands I dragged my tongue from his perineum to the top of his crack. I watched his tightly furled hole twitch. He'd never let me penetrate him with anything other than my tongue. He'd never asked for it and it wasn't my place to request. I wondered if that would change. He loved having my tongue inside him. Would he want my cock now too? The thought made my dick swell to uncomfortable proportions in my pants. He wasn't going to allow me to rim him for long and I wanted to wring as much pleasure out of it as possible so I dove right in. I laved around his soft pink pucker long enough for him to relax before I pushed my tongue inside him and fucked his tight entrance.

"Fuck yes," he hissed, pushing back onto my face. "More."

I licked and sucked and nibbled on him for all I was worth. His loud moans, grunts and curses drove me on.

"Oh fuck. Fuck yes," he growled. Suddenly, he pulled away from me and whipped around. He dug his fingers into my hair and yanked my head. "Open," he ordered. He was jacking his cock with his other hand and he shoved it in my mouth as soon as I complied. He started shooting the second his cockhead passed my lips. In his passion, he shoved too hard and slammed into the back of my throat forcing tears to spring to my eyes. He pulled back quickly and continued stroking his shaft while he fucked my mouth. "Yes," he hissed. "Take my load, whore. Take it all," he moaned.

I hadn't been expecting it and he came a lot. It was more than I could swallow and it leaked out of my mouth and ran down my chin. He kept shooting for, what seemed like, forever, and I wondered how long he'd gone without coming. As soon as he stopped, he dropped down to the floor and attacked my belt buckle. I didn't resist. I knew that he wasn't finished with me. He yanked my pants down and flipped me over, shoving inside me. He wasn't fully hard but he was still big and I screamed. He didn't use any lube, other than the remnants of my saliva and his spunk, and I hadn't been penetrated in days. I could take him. There was always pain with him but, as rough as he always was with me, he'd never torn me. I wasn't sure that anyone had ever torn me, not that I knew about, anyway. I had been sore and swollen lots of times but I'd never seen any blood. But even if I had been fucked every day it wouldn't have prepared me to take his cock dry.

He didn't wait for me to adjust, but then, he never did. He started pounding me into the cold concrete floor immediately. He only paused his assault long enough to tear at my clothes. He wanted access to my skin. The jacket came off with ease but he couldn't get access to the buttons on my shirt. He literally ripped it down the back. It was cheap. I had purchased it at Goodwill. But it was supposed to be silk, according to the label, proving the amount of strength he had in his hands. His cock swelled and pulsed inside me the instant he got his teeth on me. With him being fully erect again, the constant pressure on my prostate was sending me into a state of euphoria. It felt like I was falling over the edge into a mind-blowing orgasm the entire time he was relentlessly pummeling my tender fuckhole.

He was leaning on his elbow, up near my head, and had the fingers of his hand buried into my hair, forcing me to keep my head turned to the side. His other hand was gripping my hip so tightly that I knew I'd have bruises left behind by his fingertips for a week.

"Fuck, Baby. You're so fucking tight. I'm not going to be able to hold out."

I would have laughed if my mind had been functioning. It was his version of a quick fuck but it felt like he'd been wrecking my ass for hours. He slowed his thrusts. It wasn't for my benefit. He slowed down when he was trying to delay his orgasm. The side effect, and we both knew it, was that his shallow, slow thrusts put his plump cockhead right at the perfect spot to trip me. He was going to force me to come right there, on the floor, surrounded by dismembered body parts.

My body started to writhe under him, hips grinding, fingers clutching for purchase on the seamless, sealed concrete floor. My skin heated, blood pounding, heart thumping, head aching.

"That's it, Baby," he crooned into my ear. "Fuck yes. Come for me."

He bent his head and sucked the skin on the back of my neck, at the junction of my shoulder. My mind registered what he was about to do and my body responded by tilting my forehead down, giving him better access. I cried out in ecstasy as he sank his sharp teeth into my neck and a raging inferno crashed through my system, charring me from the inside out, spilling my seed onto the floor.

When my vision and hearing cleared he'd moved his mouth down my shoulder and bitten me in a different place. He was plunging his full length deep inside me with a driving force that surpassed any he'd used on me before. Soon his hips fell out of rhythm and he released my skin from his teeth. He roared my name and unloaded his essence deep into my bowels.

He tenderly licked all the blood from my damaged shoulder while he continued to slowly thrust his softening cock inside me. When his breathing returned to a semblance of normal, he slid down my body and used his tongue to bathe the other part of my body that he'd damaged. Once he was satisfied that he'd cleaned up the mess he'd made of me, I felt his teeth on my butt cheek. I held my breath. I knew that if I asked him not to he'd do it just to spite me. All I could do was hope that he'd spare me this time. I waited. He sucked the skin but didn't bite down. He released me and sat back.

"Turn over."

I flipped onto my back carefully to avoid kicking him.

He reached down and removed my shoes, socks, and pants from around my ankles. Then he straddled my waist and unbuttoned my shredded shirt. I helped him slip it off of me. I was completely naked and, since he'd pulled his pants back up, he was completely clothed. I was also lying in a puddle of my own cum.

He skimmed his fingers down my chest. "Mine," he grunted in a caveman-esque manner.

I smirked up at him. "I know that you're not good at the whole talking thing but could you, at least, try to form complete sentences?"

He squinted at me but he was fighting a grin. "Don't be an asshole. Tell me that you're mine."

"I'm yours." I smiled.

"Good." He grinned. "Are you hungry, Baby? Did you eat today?"

"I'm tired," I replied. "Are we going to sleep on the floor?"

"No." He crawled off me and scooped my body off the floor.

"Ack! What are you doing?"

"Taking you to bed," he responded, matter-of-factly. He stood with me in his arms and carried me, bridal style, up the stairs.

"I'm not a woman," I complained.

"Thank fuck," he chuckled. "Do you have any idea how much they bitch when I try to stick my cock up their asses? I like you better. Never once had a girl wiggle her ass at me and beg me to fuck her ass hard like you do."

He dropped me into the middle of his king-sized bed. His bedroom looked like what you would expect from a Goth with enough money to blow on hookers. It had black on blood-red bedding and a wrought iron bed frame. It wasn't the typical scrollwork in the iron. The head and foot boards looked like dead tree tops, complete with barren branches and the occasional lonely leaf. It looked sharp and pointy and I was glad that he'd never attempted to bend me over the footboard. It also wasn't delicate. The corner posts were only about four feet high but they were stout. The crossbars were almost as thick as the posts and would require a lot more strength than I had to bend them. I knew from experience, having been tied to them before.

He pulled the thick black curtain across the open end of the loft to block the light of the rising sun before he started to undress. "It's always 'No, Eric. Take it out. It's too big. You're hurting me'," he cried in an affected falsetto voice. "You'd think I was trying to fist them or something."

"Maybe you should stick to whores. We know how to take it," I told him as I watched him strip.

He froze. "Don't do that," he said softly. "Don't talk about yourself like that. I don't like it."

"Eric, it's what I am," I replied. "You even call me that."

"I do not," he argued.

"Yes you do. You call me that when we're fucking. You said it tonight when you came in my mouth."