First, let me apologize for how long it’s been since I’ve last updated my website. Here I am, paying for this site of mine, and not keeping it together. What is up with that?
Anyway, I am here to present something I think Tainted Black fans might love (or hate). A BONUS SCENE! I wrote this… but then I freaked out because I didn’t want to share it. But then I thought about all of the love I received, how many people I touched with Mr. Black and Chloe’s relationship.
Now, before you go into this thing, realize that this chapter corresponds with the novel. You will feel… and I mean really, really feel. It is told in Theo’s point-of-view, so YAY for that! And for those who have read it and are wondering where this would go, I would say that this part fits in after the end of Tainted Black… maybe like 2 years from their final encounter.
I hope you enjoy it! Please let me know your thoughts. This chapter was edited to the best of my abilities. If you spot something that is not quite right, I say to ignore it. This was written for you guys… and for fun. :)
FYI: If you have not read Tainted Black yet and plan to, DON’T READ THIS. It is chock-full of SPOILERS! You have been warned…
The sun beamed.
The curtains, so white and clean, billowing with the Bristle Wave breeze. Music drifted up the stairs, playing loudly from the speaker. A song by Rihanna. One of her favorites.
My tiredness subsided for the time being. I felt refreshed. I pushed out of bed, tugging on the jogging pants beside the bed, forgetting about the shirt. Walking to the bathroom, I gave my teeth a quick brush, washed up a bit, and then drifted out of the bedroom.
The coffee was rich in the air, a fresh brew. My stomach swirled at the thought of having that first grand cup, how it would taste running across my taste buds, officially waking me up. I met at the bottom of the staircase and rounded the corner. Pans and pots clanked, and the music was louder now.
As I spotted the sunlight streaming in, thought of that hot coffee that would push me awake, smelled the pancakes and warm syrup, none of it mattered because there she was, in the kitchen, humming, shaking those round, full hips.
She had a piece of melon between her fingers, the other hand occupied with the handle of a frying pan. She sang a line from the song, still moving those hips, still singing, until I cleared my throat, folding my arms and leaning against the edge of the wall.
She gasped and whirled around without the pan, placing the now empty hand across the heart of her chest. “Oh my God, Theo!”
“Scared you?” I asked, brow cocked.
She waltzed towards me, her arms wrapping around my waist, head craned to meet my lips.
I looked down at her, meeting soft hazel eyes. “Good morning, Knight.”
“Good morning. Now kiss me,” she begged, grinning adorably. “Stop stalling.”
I looked up. “Are you cooking for me?”
“I mean, I love breakfast. The most important meal of the day and all, right?”
“Theo!” she giggled, slapping my chest playfully.
I busted out in a laugh, clutching her tight in my arms and lowering my head to press my lips to hers. I loved messing with her. Behind our kiss, I laughed, and she grinned, hugging me tight. Her body molded with mine, and my back pressed on the wall.
We remained this way for quite some time. I’m not sure how long. I didn’t count. Several minutes passed, and hunger took hold of her. I could tell she wanted me… again. Her body was hot now, loose. Open and vulnerable. She draped her arms around the back of my neck, bouncing on her toes and giving me a light boost to pick her up.
Those slender legs wrapped around my waist, my erection nestled on her lower belly. She moaned, and a deep groan slipped out of me as I twirled her around so that her back was to the wall. She still wore those short shorts, the ones that I threatened I’d burned if she wore them in public again.
They were made of loose cotton, so access was easy… super easy for me. Her tongue slipped between my lips, and my cock strained, dying to be inside her. Throbbing, leaking from being so fucking thirsty. “Fuck, Chloe,” I groaned, grasping her ass in my hands. Her teeth sank into my bottom lip, catching it. I dropped my gaze to her mouth, our noses touching.
“I’m ready when you are,” she breathed.
I focused on her mouth. I was born ready for this girl. My soulmate. My life. I pressed forward and crushed her lips, no warning. No hesitation. Something was burning now, the odor strong, but we were both careless, though we shouldn’t have been.
I slung her body around, marching for the table in the corner, dropping her down on it, and sliding out of my pants. Her shorts were pulled off in an instant, my cock settled between her thighs. My mouth claimed every inch of her skin. God, I couldn’t speak because I was so fucking eager. I couldn’t think, my mind was so cloudy with thoughts of her.
My hands drifted across her silky skin, palms meeting at her hips, clutching, gripping, as her fingernails drug across the skin on my toned back. She was perched on her elbows, and gruffly I said, “Make sure you watch me, baby. Alright?”
And she nodded, so eager, so ready. She licked those supple lips, eyes locked with mine. She’d grown accustomed to watching, to witnessing the magic my tongue could do. Sensually I ate my girl, massaging her clit, slurping, licking, and sucking. I delved deep, the taste of her so addicting; her moans sparking the fuel in me, causing me to pulse and throb like a motherfucker as I stroked myself.
She loved every bit of it, body bucking as she held me just a little tighter.
“Oh, Theo,” she breathed. I loved when she said my name. It sounded so good coming from her mouth.
Though I’d tainted her innocence over and over again, there was no going back. She loved being the bad girl for me. She loved giving me full control. She knew my need to dominate, to own her. It’d been this way for months.
Even though she’d lost my daughter as her friend. Even though I was married to Sheila. Even though she was engaged to Sterling. None of it mattered, because we were us. We loved one another, and fucked like we hated each other.
If that isn’t perfection, then I don’t know what is.
I took my Knight, fucking her on top of the table, thrusting, slamming, causing the legs of it to wobble, and scratch the marble. Her head fell back, her neck exposed, and I took advantage, sucking on the tender skin right above her collarbone, grinding harder, and swelling up deep inside her sweet pussy.
The burnt smell was thick in the air now, almost suffocating. But I couldn’t stop. I had to keep going. It was too good. So tight. So wet. I didn’t want to stop… but she already had.
“Theo,” she gasped. “Theo. Stop. Fire. There’s fire.”
“I know,” I growled. “We’re on fucking fire, baby. We always have been.”
“No, Theo,” she said, moving closer, hugging me tight as if she were afraid.
I frowned down at her. I was fucking confused now.
“Theo… there’s fire. This is detrimental. This is hell for us. Don’t you see?” she whispered, voice cracking. “We don’t belong here. We can’t keep doing this. We’ll die going through the smog and flames if we do.”
I clasped her face in my hands, hating the tears that stole her happiness. I kissed them away as they skidded down her cheeks. I smoothed the remains away with the pads of my thumbs. Then I kissed her, so deeply, so passionately, and she returned the same ferocious passion, arms tight around me.
Pulling away, I said, “If I have to die just to be with you, then so be it. I can’t fucking live without you, Chloe.” I said this, but I don’t think she heard me. No. I know she didn’t because she was no longer in front of me. She wasn’t half-naked anymore. And I was fully dressed. She was now standing by the door. Her exit. Her escape.
She swallowed hard and waved at me, eyes full of remorse, just like the day she made love to me on Dirty Black for the last time. With sorrow and desolation, I called her name, begging—literally crawling my way to her through smog, smoke, and flames. “Chloe, please,” I begged. “Don’t do this to me again. I fucking need you. I—I can’t let you go. I fucking can’t. Not again.”
She looked down at me, tears skidding.
“I have to go, Theo.” She reached down and stroked my face. “But maybe in another lifetime.”
I’d said that for months now, repeating the mantra to myself as if it would restore hope, but another lifetime would never compare to this one. The one we shared. The love we built. It was too much. Too deep. So perfect. That could never be topped.
She opened the door, and walked out. I don’t know how she got out of my hold, my vice grip, but she did, and I watched her walk away, each step a crack forming on my black heart.
And, soon, her silhouette was gone.
The smoke and flames vanished, but I still felt too hot. Too heated.
I was still holding something.
It was cold. Hard. Flat. I lifted my head, staring right at my own reflection. It caught me off guard, and I startled a bit, gasping. I didn’t get it. I hated my face—the one in the same mirror I had shattered after stealing Chloe’s innocence when she was nineteen.
How is it repaired? Why the fuck is it here!?
It was here, like that night never fucking happened. It shimmered and transitioned into a photo of my daughter. My Izzy Bear. Her and Chloe… together. Smiling. So young and carefree. So happy together. Nothing could break their sisterly bond… no one but me.
I broke it. I fucking ruined it.
The area that surrounded me was pitch black, but light shined down on the mirror, leaving me no choice but to see myself as the mirror transitioned again. I stared at myself—the hurt in my eyes. The damage dominating my well-being. The pain… so unbearable.
The guilt swallowed me whole, and I sank.
I plummeted right into a black hole and wept for days. Months on fucking end.
I’d become even more damaged than I ever had been before, begging for Chloe to come back to me. Calling, and getting nothing but her voicemail. Emails with no replies. Text messages with no responses at all. Nothing was what I got in return. It was almost like she never even loved me to begin with… and maybe that was the point of it all. She never was supposed to love a man like me. Ever.
I called, emailed, and text her, begging for this girl to bring me joy again… to take care of me again…
But then, I wake up, panting, sweating.
And then I realize one thing.
All that shit—all of it was a dream.
I have lived with nightmares for years—dealt with death, deceit, and battles. My time with Chloe was a glimpse of my own little fairytale—things that don’t happen for real, or at least the way they should. My own little story, full of never ending happiness, a river of peace.
It was a beautiful, fragmented mess.
And in this bed, as I stare ahead and think about it all, I know one thing.
I am alone.
I am forgotten.
I am… still heartbroken.
And, yet, I am still so madly in love with Chloe Knight.