Lib Novel Page 15
“More,” she begged, relentless in her pursuit of pleasure. “Give me more, Nathan.”
And who was I to deny her?
I lost myself to her demands, my body moving with a primal urgency as we chased our mutual release. She met me thrust for thrust, her cries mingling with mine in the still air of the kitchen until they crescendoed into a shared climax that left us both gasping and clinging to the edge of sanity.
Panting, I pulled out, leaving her there on the cool marble, her body still quivering from the aftermath. I turned away, desperate to put some distance between us, even if just for a moment. In the bathroom, I leaned heavily against the sink, staring at my reflection.
The man looking back was a stranger—wild-eyed, hair tousled, a faint flush still on his cheeks from the exertion. He needed to get free of her, but the twisted part of him—the part that craved her chaos—knew he was tethered to her with chains stronger than any metal.
“You’re losing control,” I muttered to my reflection.
It was true.
She held all the cards…and she had from the very beginning.
When I returned to the living room, she was standing there, composed as if our world hadn’t just tilted on its axis. I grabbed my keys off the hook, determined to escape the confines of these walls, if only for a short while.
“I’m going for a drive,” I announced, my voice more steady than I felt.
“Nathan, we need to talk,” Abby said, her tone suggesting it wasn’t a request. “You can’t just leave every time things get too real.”
“Watch me,” I spat back, the coldness in my voice not reaching my eyes. “You don’t control me, Abby.”
With that, I stormed out, slamming the door behind me, the sound echoing through the house like a gunshot. Out in the unforgiving daylight, I climbed into my car, the engine roaring to life beneath my hands. As I drove away, the rearview mirror offered up one last glimpse of the house—and of her, watching me leave yet again—but I refused to look back.
Abby might own every dark corner of my heart, but I clung to the illusion of control, however fleeting it might be.
Chapter Eight: Abby
And just like that, he was gone.
I was furious as soon as the door slammed behind him. I stormed upstairs, shedding the frustration with each angry step. In his room, because it sure as shit wasn’t my room, I threw on black leggings and a white top—no sign of the blood-red anger still boiling beneath my skin. I checked myself in the mirror, assuring that every inch of me screamed ‘normalcy’ despite the chaos Nathan left in his wake.
Back downstairs, the silence of the apartment was mocking, amplifying the ticking of the clock and my escalating irritation.
He could just storm out whenever he wanted and he just…what? Expected me to wait?
I grabbed my phone from the coffee table, checking for any messages that weren’t there. My fingers found the necklace at my throat, the fucking collar, and I tugged at it,
“Damn you, Nathan,” I muttered.
Enough waiting.
I punched in Erika’s number, holding the phone against my ear. It rang once, twice, then her chipper voice filled the line.
“Abby! Hey, babe, what’s up?”
“Hey, Erika. You free? I need some girl time.”
“Of course! Let me just grab my keys, and I’ll—“
“No, stay put. I’ll come to you,” I interrupted, already anticipating Nathan’s reaction if he returned to find me gone. A twisted part of me relished the thought of provoking him again.
Erika giggled. “Ooh, mysterious! Okay, hit me up when you’re close.”
“Will do.” I ended the call, tossing the phone onto the couch.
I wasn’t sure what I hoped to achieve by leaving the house. Maybe it was a test—to see if Nathan would come after me or if he even noticed I was gone. But one way or another, I needed a distraction, and my roommate never failed to provide that.