I pull myself from beside Lia.
She’s been sound asleep for the past hour. At first, her body was relaxed, slightly pushing into mine, almost snuggling, but then she slipped back into her rigid posture.
The death posture.
It seems like the norm for her, some sort of a habit she developed over the years and eventually fell into subconsciously. People usually find their comfort zone, their self-made box, and stuff themselves in it.
But that’s the thing about Lia. Although a part of her is confined, tucked away from the world, another completely different part climbs over the stage and flies as if attempting to touch the skies.
She’s a contradiction through and through. One I’ll attempt to dissect inch by fucking inch.
I watch her for a beat, taking in her soft features, her full lower lip tipped by a tiny teardrop in the middle, and her flushed cheeks.
They’ve had the same color since I fucked her against the table. It wasn’t supposed to happen that way, in the entrance, as if I had no control over myself.
But that’s the thing. I lacked my steel-like control. I didn’t have the will to stop, not after what happened in the club.
I was still fuming with pent-up frustration for not strangling that fucker who put his hands on her, who didn’t only touch her, but also did it intimately and then threatened her.
In that moment, I never wanted to see life leave someone’s eyes as much as I craved to strangle it out of him.
Despite my background, I don’t really have a strong bloodlust like Damien, or even Kirill and Vladimir. Killing someone is merely a means to an end for me. I don’t take pleasure in the act; however, I’m not repulsed by it either.
It’s just a necessity.
But that blond fucker? Yeah, I would’ve enjoyed every second of the air leaving his lungs.
If someone were to ask me what came over me back then, I wouldn’t know either. One moment, I was watching from the shadows—like a stalker, as Lia likes to point out—and the next, I was seeing red as I never have in my life.
I’m not the type to see red. I’ve always believed anger was beneath me—it’s an emotion that will just cloud my vision and deter me from making the right decision. In fact, aside from when Aunt Annika died, I don’t think I’ve ever felt strong emotions. After that, all the anger and the irrationality that came with it seemed to vanish out of my system to be replaced by a cool head.
Until that scene at the club.
Until all I could see was fucking red.
This woman hasn’t only been messing with my patterns, but she’s also provoking a part of me that I bid farewell when I was a child. A part that I will smother to death before it invades me again.
I had to prove to myself and her that I’m in control and always will be.
That’s why I took her against the table as soon as we were inside. She thought she could get rid of me and I thought that, too. For a moment before I flipped her down, I had this idea that I’d fuck the anger out of her and erase the chaos that’s related to her.
I didn’t.
If anything, it’s become bleaker, harsher, and darker. With every thrust into her tight cunt and every moan from her pink lips, I felt an invisible thread form between us. I’m not the type who forms a bond with my sexual partners. They’re simply there for me to use and give pleasure back to if I see fit. They know me to be rough, callous, and demanding, but they keep coming back for more.
They know me to be cold and easily bored, and that’s why I pull out after release.
That was not the case with Lia.
For the first time in my nearly thirty-one years, I took a woman again right after I was finished with her. A dark obsession grabbed hold of me, and I needed to hear her moans and watch her petite frame shake as she unraveled around me. I had to engrave in my brain the way her face contorted with pleasure as she cried out my name and dug her nails into my shoulders when it got to be too much.
In fact, all I want right now is to wake her and pick up where we left off. I want to touch every inch of her body, study it, and tease it to heights even she wouldn’t have thought possible.
Then…I’d eventually destroy it.
What a fucking waste.
Taking a strand of her hair between my fingers, I inhale it, letting the scent of roses barge into my lungs and carve a place there. Everything about her is soft, even her personality.
But being soft doesn’t mean she’s naive. Lia knows when to stand up for herself if need be, but she carefully picks her battles.
Like a survivor would.
Considering her background, the tactic makes perfect sense.
Not that I gave her any choice. It was either my way or death. And while that’s how I usually deal with everything in my life, I find myself taking a different approach with her.
One I don’t fully understand myself.
I get up from the bed and note the pills on the nightstand. They’ve changed position from last time, so that means she’s been taking them these past couple of days.
Not bothering to pull on my boxer briefs, I head to the kitchen and take out a bottle of water from the fridge. I pause with it halfway to my mouth as I study the notes attached to the door.
Buy groceries.
You didn’t actually slip and break your ankle. That was a nightmare.
Try to reach L again.
I remove the last two, studying her neat cursive handwriting.
She’s reminding herself about her nightmares. Hmm. Does this mean her case is getting worse since the last time she saw her therapist?
My finger taps over the last note and my body turns stone cold, even with the heat in the apartment.
Try calling L again.
Who the fuck is L and why is she writing their name as an initial as if she’s keeping it as a dirty little secret?
Is he an ex-lover of hers? Friend with benefits? The more I think about it, the faster the red from the club threatens to return.
I slam the note back on the fridge before I can crumple it and give my snooping session away.
While I don’t give a fuck, I know she does, and then she’d start one of her psychoanalyzing sessions that only end up hurting her more than necessary.
She’ll soon see my uncensored side. How soon, is the question. My gaze flits over the living room, noting the places where I’ll have Kolya and Yan install cameras when she’s out.
There’s also a nook in her bedroom, right over her vanity, where it would be the perfect spot to insert a surveillance camera.
She’s right. I am a stalker.
But it’s either that or torture her for answers. What am I if not the perfect villain? I prefer to do things smoothly, not harshly.
It’d be a pity to draw blood from that porcelain skin; however, marking it is a different story altogether.
Seeing my red handprints on her ass brought out the beast inside me, the one who craves more marking, more claiming.
Just more.
After drinking the small bottle of water, I throw it in the trash and go back to the bedroom.
Lia is still sleeping in her death-like position, but the sheet has slipped, revealing a perfect pink nipple.
And just like that, I’m getting hard again.
Fuck.
I lie beside her, propping my head on my elbow to watch her intently. Unable to resist, I lean in and take the naked nipple into my mouth, lapping my tongue against it like a teenager with a tit obsession.
At first, Lia remains still, but then her dead position breaks and her lips part. “Mmmm…”
The sound goes straight to my dick, hardening it to the point of torture. I bite down on her nipple enough to cause slight discomfort, hoping she’ll open her eyes, but she moans again, her hand moving under the sheet.
I pull it down to watch her touching her cunt, rubbing her clit in that soft but erotic way that’s meant to get herself off.
Not again.
I might have watched the last time, but there will be no touching herself when I’m around anymore.
Wrapping my hand around hers, I still it, my fingertips brushing against her wet folds.
“Mmmm,” she mumbles, trying to pull her hand free and continue her task.
I nibble on her nipple once more, and this time, she gasps awake, her deep blue eyes staring at nowhere at first before she slowly focuses on me.
“What…?” she trails off when she sees my mouth around her nipple and my hand over hers on her cunt.
A red hue spreads over her fair skin, covering her neck and face and even her ears. Her self-implicated feelings of shame are interesting, and I find myself wanting to engrave them deeper into my mind.
Or perhaps, what I really want is to see her flushed and at my mercy.
I speak against her nipple, making her squirm with each of my breaths against the wet, sensitive tip, “You were touching yourself again, Lenochka, but these soft fingers don’t satisfy you anymore, do they? I can give this cunt what it truly craves.”
She places her other hand on my shoulder. It’s to resist me, to stop me as that smart brain of hers dictates, but she and I know that can’t go on for long.
“Are you going to be a good slut or a good girl, Lia?”
She sucks in a sharp breath, attempting to withdraw her hand that’s on her clit from underneath mine. But I keep it imprisoned and she gasps as I push it in a little.
I straddle her in a swift move, my knees on either side of her parted legs. Lia lets her arm fall to her side and whispers, “When are you going to be done?”
“Don’t act like this is a chore, Lia. That’s another form of lying and you know I don’t appreciate it.”
She glares at me, her tiny features scrunching with the movement. “You’re a sadist.”
“Then that makes you a masochist, Lenochka.”
“I-I’m not.”
“Yes, you are. Can you feel your arousal coating both of our hands?”
She tries to stare at the opposite wall, but I pull her back with a firm hold on her chin. “Don’t do that again. Keep your attention on me when I’m touching you.”
“So now, I’m only allowed to look at you?”
I like that. In fact, I like it so much, it’s fucking disturbing, and I don’t usually consider anything disturbing.
“If you can help it, yes,” I say in a nonchalant tone that doesn’t betray the thought I was having.
“You’re a disaster…ahh,” she whimpers as I align my dick with her entrance.
“Then you shouldn’t get in my way, Lenochka. I will ruin you, break you and mess you the fuck up.”
“Aren’t you doing that already?”
“Not truly, no. You’d be smart not to provoke that side of me.” I release her chin and place a hand behind her back, lifting her to a sitting position, then fling her legs so that they are positioned beside my knees as I slam inside her at the same time.
Fuck. She feels like the first time. No, it’s even better, her walls more inviting and her body more used to mine.
Lia cries out, the sound turning into a soft moan as I power into her tight heat so deep, our groins slap against one another with our hands in between.
Lia stares down at where we’re joined, her face turning a deep crimson, and she starts to glance away.
“No. Look at us.”
“Don’t make me,” she begs between moans.
“You called me a disaster, but this is the true disaster, Lia. You and me.”
She complies, her lips parting, and a sparkle shines in the depths of her eyes, making them lighter, almost as if she’s on a high.
Using her fingers, I make her tease her clit, my thumb adding pressure. Her hand is tiny compared to mine, small and sophisticated like everything about her. It shakes with my ministrations, but she doesn’t attempt to pull it away as we rub on her clit in the way she likes while I thrust inside her at the same time.
She throws her head back, which causes strands of her rose-scented hair to brush against my face. I breathe her in and memorize the complete abandon on her features as I fuck her in a rhythm that leaves her whimpering for a release.
She came more times than either of us can count tonight, but Lia still wants more. She still comes apart around me when I pull back, then drive back in.
Her fingers halt underneath mine and she moans the only name that she’s allowed to from now on, “Adrian…yes…yes…Adrian…”
The sound of her throaty whisper sends me crashing into my own release. My back and balls tighten as I empty myself inside her in one go.
Fuck condoms.
She falls against me, her head nestling into my chest. A sheen of sweat covers both of our bodies as we breathe each other in.
Soon, she’ll try to pull away from me as she did earlier, but right now, her body is completely slack against mine. Now, she looks docile and content and even releases a small sigh.
I choose this moment of peace to offer her another bit of truth. The lone truth that rattles me to my bones.
“You asked when I’d be done. The answer is never. I’ll never be done with you, Lenochka.”
