Phantom: A Dark Retelling (Tattered Curtain Series)
Phantom: Act 3 – Scene 16

Scarlett

We enter one of the Prohibition tunnels Sol’s great-grandfather commissioned.

The Edison bulbs provide just enough visibility for me to see. We glide through the hallways as quiet as ghosts, taking turns and stairs. I can’t get my bearings until I hear rushing water and find that we’re somehow already back to his home. He fiddles with his phone and the door hisses open.

Not wasting another second, he barrels through the door and closes it behind us, locking it from his phone. He slams his hand against a switch on the wall and all the dim Edison lights and lamps light up throughout his home. Now that I can see the desire reflected in his face, I need him even more, and I’m attacking him before he can get us any farther than the foyer.

He pulls something from his waistband and it clunks against the entryway table. His suit jacket is in my way, so I shove it back, pushing it off so he can shrug it the rest of the way to the floor. I unknot his tie and toss it to the ground, but when I reach for his button-down, he grabs one of my arms and drapes it around his neck. I cling to him while he wraps my legs around his waist.

His hands cup my ass cheeks before traveling up to the ribbon straps laced down my back. He unravels it, and the off-the-shoulder neckline falls between us, catching on his chest before it can reveal my naked breasts.

He captures my lips, and his fingers dig into the muscles of my ass cheeks in a deliciously painful massage. As he marches us down the hall, I’m kissing his mouth, biting his bottom lip, and pecking his left cheek, anything to get closer to him. My heart races and my core floods with need. His hard abs contract against my fluttering clit as he moves.

His footsteps are silent and my back is to the bedroom so I don’t know we’re there until he’s swung the curtains open. The move is so forceful, they fly back from the railing they’re secured to and land on the bed, mixing the velvet curtains with the velvet comforter. Without fixing the pile, he flings me on top of it all onto the bed.

A yelp escapes me before rumbling into a giggle and out of habit, my hands fly to my dress to keep my breasts covered. He prowls onto the bed and pushes my knees apart with his, causing another rip underneath me.

“My dress is going to be ruined,” I pout playfully.

“I’ll buy you another.” He kisses my lips before caging me in on both sides of my head with his forearms. His fingers gently strip me from my masquerade mask before he explores my mouth.

“What if I want this dress,” I tease against his lips. “It’s one of a kind.”

“Well then you can always cherish its memory as the night I ripped it apart to make you come on my tongue.”

His fingers curl around my satin neckline and pull it down, unveiling my breasts. A sudden bout of shyness threatens with a lump in my throat until he takes total control. His long piano fingers mold my breasts and push them together as he kisses down my chest and around each areola.

“Do you know how hard I was all night, knowing you weren’t wearing a bra under this thin fabric? The way every man salivated over you made me proud… and murderous.”

“I didn’t see anyone drooling over me, Sol.”

I lift my hips up as his tongue swirls around my nipple. He sucks it into a peak and caresses the other with his finger, so softly the light touch has my core fluttering.

“Are you telling me you only had eyes for me, then, ma belle muse?” His wicked smile makes my cheeks hurt with one of my own.

He licks my other nipple before leaving wet, open mouth kisses down to where my dress still circles my waist. That entrancing midnight eye winks back at me, sparking a thrill down my spine. I bite my lip as he grabs the split hem at the top of my thigh and rips the entire dress up the middle. He doesn’t give me a second to react before he’s dragging my thong down inch by slow inch.

I close my eyes as his breath skates across the sensitive skin of my thighs. Goose bumps spring up all over and my heart stutters at the tingling sensation. I squirm underneath him until he captures my legs with his hands. My breath quickens as he peels them wider and settles his broad shoulders fully between them. Warmth surges from my core when he hooks his arms around my thighs and uses his thumbs to spread me apart. Even though I need him there, my hand reflexively tries to cover my pussy.

He nips at my fingers with his teeth, forcing me to snatch my hand back with a yelp. “Sol!”

His dark chuckle fans warm air against my most sensitive place.

“You don’t get to hide from me, my pretty little muse. Next time my warning won’t be so gentle.”

I swallow and pinch my eyes closed, refusing to look at him as I confess. “I… I’ve never… I’ve never been with—”

“I know,” he replies back and my eyes snap to his.

“You know? How the hell do you know I’ve never done anything but kiss a guy—ow!”

The bite on my inner thigh makes me sit up on my elbows to scold him, but he laves it, making it feel better.

“Don’t talk about other men. Ever,” he growls.

“Okay, but that doesn’t answer my question.” My eyes narrow at him.

He seems to hesitate before shrugging a broad shoulder farther underneath my leg and resting his hands around my upper thighs, as if to keep me from escaping.

“You told me the other night. When I made you—”

“When I was drugged and thought you were a dream?” The memory shoots into my head and I frown, considering if I should even be doing this with him at this moment at all.

“No… when you were so desperate to come, I freed you from your sexual frustration. That’s what good dream lovers do.”

That makes me laugh outright. “I’ll admit, I’ve never had dreams quite as good as that one.”

“No more dreams, little muse. Only memories. I’m going to make sure you never forget the first time I taste you.”

I open my mouth to keep up the conversation, my nerves getting the best of me, but one swipe from my phantom’s tongue and I’m a goner.

He starts in the center and laps up the arousal I know is pooled at my entrance, stroking all the way up to my clit. His warm tongue circles the nub and I moan. My fingernails claw for something, anything, for purchase and I find velvet in my grasp. Hopefully it’s the quilt and not the curtains, but one more graze of his tongue makes me forget about caring at all.

Sol removes one hand as the other props up my ass cheek, bringing me as close as possible to taste me. His tongue spears inside me, sending shooting tingles of pleasure over my skin. My legs squeeze his head as my muscles tense with pleasure, but he keeps my left leg spread well away from his mask. He zeroes his tongue onto my clit, pulsing against it, and I gasp when something prods my opening. I peek down at him to see that one long finger is teasing my core, asking for entry.

“Yes, Sol. Please, I need your finger inside me.”

I might’ve tricked myself into thinking I was drugged at the time, but I remember Sol guiding my fingers to find that perfect spot inside me. If he set me on fire without even touching me, I may combust when he does it on his own.

My hands tighten around the fabric I’m clutching, and the curtain rings clack together. The canopy rails creak above us, but Sol doesn’t seem to be concerned.

His long nimble finger strokes my inner muscles and his tongue swirls around my clit until the pressure inside me builds to a fever pitch.

“Yes, Sol, please. Right there…” I whisper over and over, loving the way each encouragement seems to spur him on faster.

The need to come rises and rises, pushing me to the brink of bliss until he sucks my clit between his lips and focuses his midnight gaze on me. I jerk the velvet closer until it’s taut and a sharp snap resounds against the walls. His name stutters from my lips as I finally hit that peak and tumble down, down, down back to earth.

All of a sudden, wood above me cracks and something collapses, threatening to crush me. I shriek through my orgasm, bliss and terror warring in the adrenaline flooding my veins, but Sol leaps on top of me, protecting me. One of the bed’s canopy railings lands with a thump and he grunts above me. In all the commotion, my body still tremors with euphoria and his finger stays focused on the spot inside me, letting me ride the secondary notes of my orgasm even as he shelters me.

When I finally come all the way down on a sigh, I realize Sol has completely shielded me. My hands clutch the lapels of his white dress shirt and we’re surrounded by what must be pounds of heavy velvet. As he gently withdraws his finger from my center, a breath stutters from me at the way each knuckle brushes my sensitive muscles. He catches my gasp between his lips in a scorching kiss. My hand strokes the uncovered left side of his face, but when I reach the right, his hand snatches mine.

“Don’t.” His voice is a threat but there’s an air of pleading to it that makes my heart ache.

“I won’t,” I promise quickly, changing the trajectory of my left hand to thread into his hair instead. In the dark, I’d almost forgotten he’d even had his mask on due to its soft material. He moans back into my mouth as I tug his dark, soft strands and the mask presses into my face as our passionate kiss melts into tenderness.

When the velvet cloud enveloping us begins to become stiflingly hot, he breaks the kiss and sits up. The fabric tents over his powerful frame, allowing air to caress my cheeks. He tosses it off his back, and it’s only then, in the dim light of the room, that I realize what I did.

“Ah! I broke your bed!”

“Just the canopy and curtains. They can always be fixed.” He bends down to kiss me again and laughs against my lips. “Besides, there’s not much higher achievement for a man than breaking his bed while making a woman come in his arms.”

I giggle and swat at him. He deftly dodges it and stands up to remove the thick pile of curtains and one beam that’d landed across his back, careful not to bump me in the process.

“Are you okay?”

“I’ve been through worse,” he murmurs. “It won’t even bruise.”

My eyes narrow as I watch his back muscles move underneath his dress shirt, as if I could see a possible bruise forming right beneath the fabric. But I get mesmerized by the ink swimming underneath the thin cotton shirt.

Cool air skates across my bare chest, breaking me from my reverie and giving me a cold chill. I sit up and gather my dress together, suddenly taking note that he’s completely clothed while I’m vulnerably naked. Insecurity warms my cheeks as I try to cover myself with scraps of satin, and I know my pale skin must be beet red right now.

“What’re you doing?” I hear him ask, but I don’t look at him until one of his hands suddenly captures my wrist. I look up to see him holding clothes in the other. “Did you think I wouldn’t take care of you? Lift up your arms.”

He releases my wrist and I raise my arms like he asked, letting the satin dress scraps flutter down my skin. Ever so gently, he slides the white T-shirt down my arms and over my head. Whiskey, sugar, and leather envelop me, and I take a deep inhale as the cotton drifts past my nose.

When I’ve settled into the undershirt, I meet his warm gaze and smile shyly. A possessive glint in his sparkling eye catches me, reminding me of the look he gave me when other men allegedly dared to glance at me in Masque.

The truth is, he was right. There was no way I could look at anyone else when his fingertips were caressing my lower back all night. Why would I want anyone else’s eyes or hands on me when I can’t get enough of Sol’s?

“I won’t have my pretty little muse be shy in my bed. You’ll either be confident and bare, or looking at me just like this in my shirt. Understood?”

I nod slowly and a grin spreads across my lips at the possession clouding his expression. The thick length in his pants seems to get even harder.

“What about you?” I ask tentatively, not entirely sure how to broach the subject. I glance at the steel tenting his suit, but when I look back to his face, a mischievous smile greets me.

“After you sang for the crowd, I just wanted to hear you sing for me. And what a gorgeous song it was.” He steps closer and traces his finger down my throat before whispering in my ear. “I want no one else to take pleasure in hearing the sweet music I draw from you at night.”

I swallow underneath his fingertips and nod, not sure what else to do in response. His tongue licks the shell of my ear as he says something else, making my skin tingle.

“Promise?”

I have no idea what he just said, but I’m quickly realizing I’ll agree to anything while Sol Bordeaux touches me.

“I-I promise.”

“Good.” He pulls away. “Now get ready for bed, Scarlett. I know you have a routine and you need to get a good night’s sleep.”

The reminder is the first one I’ve had about my bipolar disorder and my nose scrunches as I take stock of my body and mind.

There are no jitters. No nerves. My brain isn’t racing a million miles a second. Other than wanting Sol to get right back into bed with me—which I think is totally normal considering the smoldering man in front of me—I have no desire to do anything else reckless. And if this man has only encouraged me, protected me, and given me the best night of my life so far… is wanting to sleep with him really reckless at all? It feels delightfully inevitable.

“What’re you thinking about so hard?”

“I feel… fine,” I finally answer. “I feel good, but not euphoria ‘high in a manic state’ good. My happiness just feels like… happiness.”

“Sometimes that’s all happiness needs to be.” His smile softens and he caresses my cheek. “You can see madness in the eyes, you know. And there’s absolutely nothing but sated relaxation in your silver moons.” I give in to his touch and am one caress away from purring like a kitten when he stops. “Now, go get ready for bed. If I have anything to do with it, I’ll keep you this way.”

Sol leaves me be as I shower in his gorgeous black marble bathroom and get ready for bed. Once I finish my nightly routine with all the products Sol apparently had one of his beauty-conscious shadows fetch from my dorm, I go back to his bedroom. S~ᴇaʀᴄh the (F)indNƟvᴇl.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

He’s sitting up against the black wood headboard, waiting for me in another loose black long-sleeve T-shirt and silk pants. The underground home is quite chilly, so I’m a little jealous of his pajamas, but I have no doubt I’ll be just fine underneath the covers.

I walk slowly to his bed, wondering when he’ll look up from his phone. But he continues to stare at it like it’s offended him, and a frown mars his face. Then I notice that his hair is slightly damp, and I frown, too.

“Where did you get ready for bed?”

“In the bathroom, down the hall,” he mutters and types furiously on his phone.

“You didn’t want to get ready with me?” I ask hesitantly.

I don’t know the etiquette with this stuff. I don’t know why this is hard for me to ask. And I don’t know why I care. But something about the fact that he knows almost literally everything about me and he won’t even brush his teeth around me puts me off. But then again, I shouldn’t care… right?

“I didn’t want to interrupt your routine with mine,” he answers casually.

I snort. “Aren’t boy routines step one: wash your face, step two: brush your teeth. Rinse and repeat? That was my dad’s anyway. Everywhere we went, he had that damn bottle of three-in-one shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. Years of neglecting my own skincare and hair is one of the reasons why I’m so religious about it now.”

He huffs, still not looking at me. “Mine’s a little more involved.”

I want to tease him more, but my eyes narrow when I realize his brow is still furrowed.

“Is everything okay?” I ask.

He looks up at me and lays his phone face down on the nightstand.

“Yes, everything is fine. Just business.” He gestures for me to come to him and pats the bed.

I crawl in beside him underneath the thick quilt, trying not to think too much about that answer.

How many times had my dad said the same thing? Only to go off and be gone for hours, leaving me in random hotels or rental homes in strange cities? I’ve often wondered if the men my father associated with were responsible for his death. If so, then he put me in danger that night too.

Will Sol do the same?

“Business huh?” I finally ask, not able to hold the question in. “What kind of business?”

He chuckles and lies on his side, facing me. He’s now back to his usual white skull mask, and he rubs his right eyelid as he chuckles. “So inquisitive, little muse.”

I shrug, attempting to play it off. “I’ve got questions for my kidnapper. So sue me.”

“I didn’t kidnap you, Scarlett.” The scowl on his face only makes me giggle. “I couldn’t let you be alone without knowing the extent of what you took and I want to make sure you’re still in a good headspace before I let you venture back out into the world alone.”

I sigh. “I know. You probably saved my life. But when can I go back to my dorm? I’ve got another rehearsal on Monday, y’know. I realized just tonight that I don’t even have my phone with me. Jaime’s probably worried sick.”

“I figured it would be good to be radio silent while you recouped. If you want your phone, I can send someone to retrieve it. As for going back to your dorm… we’ll see how well you sleep tonight. If you feel relaxed and healthy tomorrow, I’ll consider it.”

A pang in my heart confuses me. I’m not sure why what he said hurt my feelings… or maybe it’s just because I don’t really want to leave yet. I turn over to hide my emotions from him either way.

“Perfect,” I lie.

For once, Sol doesn’t seem to notice my fib, and for once, I wish he would. With my back to his front, he pulls me into his chest. His hard length presses against my backside and he does nothing to hide it. I wiggle against it to tease him, but Sol nips the shell of my ear, forcing a yelp from me. He squeezes me close so I can’t escape him as he growls into my ear.

“Good night, Scarlett.”

We lie on our sides and Sol scoops his arm underneath my neck before curving his forearm over my chest. His other hand pulls me closer to him by my hip bone. It’s comfortable and secure, and for the first time ever, I feel… safe.

“Good night, Sol,” I finally whisper back.

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