Twenty-Seven Inevitable
Sienna
Lydia’s face fills with pity the moment she opens the door. “Don’t,” I mumble. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“I’m just wondering how long you’re going to fight the inevitable.”
Inevitable. Is that what we are? It’s crazy to think that a few short months ago, I had no idea who Osiris Soto was or what he’d done. Now he seems inextricably linked with me, like a fever I’ll never be able to sweat out. On paper, it’s no good. He’s so young, he’s dangerous, he’s deranged. He’s a liar. I’m too stuck in my ways to let him in or get past anything that’s happened. It seems like common sense that we should just let it go and move on, yet as I set my half-packed duffle bag down, I know inside the darkest parts of me that I’ll never be done with him.
Maybe inevitable is the right word for it after all.
“Can we just talk about something else?” I ask, knowing even before she shakes her head that the answer is no. What else would we talk about? The weather? “Alright, fine. Then get it over with so I can go to sleep. Ask your questions.”
“Well to start I need the entire story. You’ve been vague as hell so lay it all out for me from the day he showed up at your door.”
It takes a shockingly long time to go through it all, but I blame that mostly on the fact that she won’t shut up. Every time I point out something attractive he did, she adds a million follow up questions — but eventually, the story runs out and I finally fall silent. “So, yeah. That’s that.”
“Okay...” she taps her fingers on the armchair as she decides which direction to take this conversation. “And at what point did you realize you were in love with him?”
This would go a lot smoother if I just smacked her, I think.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I can’t pinpoint the moment. It wasn’t some come to Jesus thing where I sat down and said ‘holy shit, I’m in love with Osiris’ it was more like... little beads of sand pouring into an hourglass so slowly I didn’t notice, and then one day it was just... full. And then he broke it and now the sand is everywhere and I know it’s all still there, but I can’t pull it back together again.”
“Do you want him to help you put it together? Because it sounds like he really wants to, even if he’s going about it in the wrong dumbass ways. If you don’t, then I think it’s time to get the law involved. You can file a report without him getting arrested.”
“And then what? He clearly doesn’t give a shit about some piece of paper, so I don’t really think that would deter him.” And I’m not sure I want it to. “But the whole point is that I don’t really know what I want, which is why I’m here. I need space to think, and I know I just had that when he went back home to Blackridge, but I thought he was gone for good. Not just gone for a couple of weeks and then we’d be right back here.”
The face she gives me only makes me want to slap her more. It’s like she’s seeing something as clear as day that I can’t, and I’m not sure if I want her to point it out. Too bad she does. “Sounds like you’re too scared to make a decision either way, girl. Doesn’t matter how much space you get, but you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need. You might be a dumbass, but you’re my dumbass and I have your back. You want to sit here and talk shit about him and men as a whole? We will. You want to gush about all the good things he’s brought to your life instead? We can. You want to sleep until noon tomorrow and then wake up to binge watch Supernatural ? I’ll be right here on the couch in pajamas with you. Fuck work. But when all this is said and done and you’re lying in that bed unable to sleep, you’re going to have to make a decision eventually. Something tells me he’ll be knocking on my door sooner rather than later.”
I just need a fucking second to breathe, why doesn’t anyone seem to get that? He came in and upended my quiet little life of solitude and then ripped a tornado through it, so why is it shocking that I can’t make up my mind? I miss my old life when things were simple and uncomplicated, but I miss him when he’s gone. The chaos is beautiful in its own right, but so was my peace. This has all happened so fast that I feel like my hyper-logical brain hasn’t had the time to lay the pieces out yet and figure out what to do, but she’s right. I don’t have the luxury of time with Si no matter how far I run.
So I guess none of it really matters. Maybe I’ll wake up in ten years regretting whatever decision I’m about to make, maybe I won’t. Maybe that’s what living’s all about.
“Okay,” I say simply. Arguing will just send us around in circles. “We both need to work tomorrow, so I’ll be gone in the morning. In my haste to get out, I didn’t bring my laptop.”
“Call off. I will too if you want me to. I can tell you only focused on the last thing I said so I want to again point out you can stay here as long as you need, okay?”
“I already called off today, I can’t do it again tomorrow. We live in America, remember?” I deadpan. “It’s fine. You were right, I doubt I’d be able to avoid him for long since he knows where you live, so why put it off?”
She shrugs sadly before perking up out of nowhere. “Want my brother to kick his ass? Not too bad but just enough to make you feel better?”
“He’s a killer, Lydia. Who spent his formative years in a prison full of other killers and general ass-kickers,” I remind her. “Your brother is strong, but my money would be on Si. I’ve seen those muscles.”
“Eh, maybe. Any chance you have a picture of those muscles? Among other body parts?”
She waggles her eyebrows at me playfully, and while under normal circumstances I wouldn’t betray someone like this, something tells me Osiris won’t mind.
Opening my hidden photos, I slide my phone over to her and just wait as she slides through almost two dozen pictures of Si and a fair few of me, too. At least I’m fair.
“Oof,” she sighs as she hands it back. “You’re stronger than me.”
“Or I’m just really dumb,” I counter. “I don’t know what the issue is, I just feel like there’s something not right about all of this. It would be a lot easier if I could figure out what.”
When all she does is give me another sad smile, I take that as my cue to go get some sleep. It doesn’t take long to get ready for bed since I didn’t pack any pajamas or a toothbrush, but after a quick finger brush and at least taking my pants off, I climb into bed and stare at the ceiling.
The house goes quiet around me once she goes to bed, and I’m left to sift through the thoughts that have been bouncing around for a while. Should I, shouldn’t I, why am I not? They spin in endless circles until I hear an almost too-familiar sound.
It’s the sound of someone far too big and clumsy trying hard to be quiet. With Osiris waking up at random hours to raid my fridge, or just pace around, I’d know the sound of his footfalls anywhere. I’m just not sure whether I should be afraid this time or not.
When my door slowly opens and I hear him release a contented sigh like he’s finally found me, I think I’ve finally made a decision.
This has to stop.
Without a word, I reach for my phone to call the cops. He’s on me in seconds, a hand covering my mouth as he strips my phone away and sets it aside gently. “What are you doing?” he whispers dangerously, once again sending something like real fear creeping up my spine.
I can’t speak, but I hope he sees it in my eyes.
“You have no reason to be afraid of me, Sienna. I told you I’d never hurt you in ways you didn’t crave. Can you promise me you won’t scream?”
Yes, because the last thing in the world I need is Lydia coming in here and potentially setting him off. Slowly, I nod.
“Good girl. Wouldn’t want her hearing what a desperate little slut you are now, would we?”
He grins down at me as he slowly moves his hand away, almost paralyzing me. “Who said that’s what I am?”
“Your pussy that doesn’t seem to care about what your mouth says. Come home.”
His tone changes with the command, turning darker and more insistent than I think I’ve ever heard it. It triggers something visceral inside of me.
I want to come home, and maybe it’s that very thought that makes me pause.
He seems to take my silence as refusal though and releases a bitter laugh. “Of course it wouldn’t be easy. Fine, you owe me.”
“Owe you?” I blurt. “Owe you for what?”
He clicks his tongue at me like he’s disappointed I don’t know what he’s talking about. “Our bet.”
Fuck. The blood in my face — whatever’s left of it — drains. “And what scene did you choose?”
“A little bit of this, a little bit of that. We didn’t specify the whole scene had to come from the same book.” He stands, backing away to the chair I put my duffle on top of so he can move it onto the ground and take a seat. “Call the cops if you want this to stop, because that’s what it’s going to take.”
My eyes flick to where he set my phone. All it would take is one little call, but then what? How do I explain any of this to the cops?
And what happens if it works and he really leaves me alone?
Crashing realization makes me exhale. I’m not calling the cops. I’ll never stop craving this, craving him. He fucking wins.
“That’s what I thought.” He leans forward to brace his elbows on his knees as hunger overtakes him. “Strip off your clothes and crawl to me.”
My cheeks blaze red as I realize it’s now or never. It’s not too late, yet I swear my fingertips are tugging my t-shirt over my head before I can think it through.
I can tell myself all I want that I’m complying out of fear, or just to keep Lydia out of it. But as I slip my panties off and flip over onto all fours, I know the truth.
I’m doing it because no one will ever make me feel this way again. “Such a good girl,” he praises, the twitch of his fingers the only inclination that he’s struggling to keep his composure. “Here.”
He pats his thigh and spreads his legs wider for me, waiting as I climb off the bed and drop down to my knees to crawl the rest of the way. My stomach squirms with every movement, but as I settle between his outstretched legs, something clicks.
I was meant to be here.
“Fucking beautiful.” His hand slowly caresses my face like he truly believes I’m precious. “You’re always so put together until you’re falling apart for me.”
His thumb nudges its way into my mouth, pressing against my tongue until I suckle gently. And that’s it, I can’t imagine putting myself in a more vulnerable or submissive position.
“Make me so fucking hard, woman. Take out my cock.” He keeps his thumb in my mouth as I blindly reach out to free him. “Make sure you stay quiet, Sienna. You wouldn’t want Lydia to come out here and see you choking on my dick after you came here to get away from me.”
Asshole. Completely correct fucking asshole.
Swiping my finger over the head of his cock, I look him dead in the eyes — then pinch.
The hiss he releases makes my legs nearly clench together. There’s as much pain as there is arousal in the noise, and I swear I see his pupils blow even in the low light. “Now kiss it.”
Alright, I might stand corrected. Leaning in from my knees to kiss the head of his cock might be the most submissive thing I’ve ever done. “Better?”
He nods, his cock twitching along with him as he growls, “Lick it.”
My clit throbs as my tongue flicks out almost tentatively, just tasting the precum beading there as Osiris bites his lip to hold back a moan.
“Good. Hold your hands behind your back.”
Shit. He’s not playing around this time, and there’s nothing in his eyes that suggests he’s going to let up. He’s just getting started.
With a tentative breath, I grip my wrist just above my ass and lick him again. “More. Suck me like you give a fuck about me.”
There’s a hint of anger in his low commanding voice, telling me this isn’t just about submission. It’s a little about revenge, too.
Fine. We can fight about his tactics after, but for now? For now, I’m going to show him exactly how good I can be, exactly who he lied to, and exactly why he should regret it.
Without breaking my stance, I lean forward to slip his cock into my mouth and relax my throat until he nearly disappears completely. I’m good, but I’m not quite good enough to take him all without help, so I make up for it by closing my eyes and letting myself sink into it.
He moans, fingers curling against the armrests so roughly I hear his nails scratch it, and I know he’s fighting the urge to touch me. “Fuck yeah. Just like that.”
For a moment, my mind quiets. There’s nothing but the heady sounds of his shallow breaths, the thickness of his cock in my throat, the tight pinch of my own hand around my wrist. The faint but incessant pulse in my clit telling me I need more, more. Nothing but pain points and pleasure, and him.
He sits there enjoying my mouth until my knees hurt, muttering praises here and there to keep my head where it is, and when he finally touches me his hand slots into my hair so he can yank me off of him. “That was perfect. Let me see how wet you are from it.”
He reaches down to feel for himself, grinning when he finds my pussy wetter than my eyes. His face is blurry through the tears, but I see the satisfaction there. He knows he has me.
“Come here.” He reaches down to grip under my arms and pulls me up on the seat, but he doesn’t sink inside me like we both crave. His hand returns to roll over my clit teasingly as he kisses down my neck. “You’re mine.”
Shut up, I beg silently. Just fuck me, don’t make this more confusing.
But when he whispers it again, my breath catches in my throat. My hips twitch, both chasing his touch and trying to get away at the same time, and heat floods my whole body. With trembling hands, I slide my fingers through his hair and try to guide myself onto his cock. Surprisingly he lets me, guiding me there with a satisfied expression, never breaking eye contact as I slide down.
There’s nothing between us now at all.
I know without him having to say it that he wants me to move, so I roll my hips in a slow circle to make sure his cock is nice and wet, then slide up to tease him and drop back down. I feel the groan he releases all the way down to my clit as I watch him lick one of his fingers clean, but he holds the second one out for me.
“Suck.”
My pussy clenches around him as I obey, wrapping my tongue around the taste of myself and moving a little faster.
“One day I will marry you, woman. Whether you agree or not.”
He pulls his finger away abruptly so he can grab my hips and start fucking up into me harder, making me gasp.
“Si, what the f— oh god — what do you m-mean even if I don’t agree?”
“I mean I’m not fucking asking.” He grips my throat and leans in to bite my chin. “I’m telling you. You’re my wife.”
He’s an absolute psychopath.
He’s also everything I’ve ever wanted.
It’s almost embarrassing how quickly I fall apart and how powerful the orgasm is, but Si seems to take it as an agreement. “So beautiful when you come on my cock, wife . Give me another one before I fill up what’s mine.”
His grip tightens to cut off my blood flow, not letting up until I’m whispering pleas and getting so lightheaded I feel like I’m high. It feels so good I barely notice the second orgasm, but he sure does. He knows my body too well.
Growling, he stands up from where he’s sitting and takes me with him, holding me by my thighs until I’m pinned against the wall, and then he fucks into me so hard I know there’s no way Lydia doesn’t hear it.
Screw it.
“Come inside me,” I whisper. “Now, Si.”
The man drops his face into my neck and fucking whimpers. “Sienna.”
I feel the pulse of his cock right before he comes hard with a groan, burying himself deep inside me.
Gotcha.
He can grandstand all he wants about me belonging to him, but he belongs to me too.
In terrible, terrible ways.
As the high starts to fade, I remember all the reasons I came here and realize nothing has changed. The sex is out of this world, but he can’t keep believing that this will solve our problems.
If I can’t run from him, I guess I have to make him hear me — really hear me — because one way or the other, this has to stop.
We have to stop.