12. The Dinner #2
"But I won't. Not yet. Because I love you. Because I love you, and I want to give you a chance to choose me. But that chance will only last so long Monika. And the more you go against me the shorter the cord around his neck gets. "
I remove my hand from her mouth.
"Nathan, please—"
"Choose me." I undo my belt, the leather sliding through the loops with a soft hiss.
"Choose me, and I'll forget everything. I'll forget the meetings.
I'll forget the lies. I'll forget my brother and his pathetic attempts to steal you.
I'll forget the way my father fucks you.
The way they cover my bruises, my beautiful art, on your body with their own.
The way you promise them that you are theirs just like you promise me.
The way you sob their names as they fill you with their seed.
I'll forget it all. All you have to do is choose me. "
"I can't just—"
"You can." I yank her underwear down her legs. "You can, and you will."
I push into her without preamble. She gasps, her body tensing around me, and I see her hands scramble for purchase on the wall behind her.
"This is what you need," I say. "This is what you've always needed.
Someone to remind you who you belong to.
Someone to remind you that you are a possession.
That you belong to them and no one else.
Someone to use you like the whore you are, and then give you everything you could want.
Someone that would slaughter their whole family to keep you for themselves. "
"Stop—"
"You don't want me to stop." I thrust harder. "You never want me to stop."
Her head falls back against the wall. Her eyes close. She doesn't fight me. She doesn't run. She just takes it—the way she's always taken it.
"You're mine," I say. My voice is low, dangerous. "Say it."
"I'm yours."
"Say it like you mean it."
"I'm yours, Nathan."
"Again."
"I'm yours."
I fuck her harder. I'm angry now—angrier than I've ever been. The thought of her with Gabriel, the thought of her plotting against me, the thought of her thinking she could escape—it drives me to a place I don't usually go.
"I could kill them," I say. "My father. My brother. I could kill them both and take everything. And you know what? No one would stop me. No one could stop me."
She doesn't respond. Her eyes are squeezed shut, her mouth open in a silent scream.
"You don't believe me." I grip her chin, forcing her to look at me. "Open your eyes."
She does.
"Look at me. Look at me when I tell you what I'm going to do."
Her eyes are dark. Wet. Full of something that might be fear or might be hatred or might be something else entirely.
"I'm going to kill them," I say. "Both of them. My father first—he's weak, he won't see it coming. Then Gabriel. I'll make it look like an accident. A break-in. A murder-suicide."
She whimpers.
"And then it'll just be us. You and me. No one to come between us. No one to try to take you away from me."
"Please—"
"I'll give you everything." I thrust deeper, harder, chasing my release. "I'll give you the world. I'll give you everything you've ever wanted. All you have to do is be mine."
"I'm yours."
"Say it again."
"I'm yours. I'm yours. Please…Nathan."
She comes.
I feel her body tighten around me, the ripple of her orgasm, the way she shudders and falls apart. And I follow a heartbeat later, burying myself inside her, spilling everything I have.
"You're mine," I whisper against her neck. "You've always been mine."
She doesn't answer.
She doesn't have to.
I hold her for a long moment.
Her body is trembling against mine. Her breath is coming in short, sharp gasps. I can feel her heart pounding against my chest—the frantic rhythm of a trapped animal.
"Nathan," she whispers.
"Shh." I press my lips to her forehead. "Don't speak. Just breathe."
She doesn't speak. She just breathes.
I should feel guilty. I should feel ashamed. I just threatened to kill my father and my brother, and I fucked her like she was nothing more than a vessel for my rage.
But I don't feel guilty. I don't feel ashamed.
I feel powerful.
"You're going to forget about this conversation," I say. "You're not going to tell anyone what I said."
"I won't."
"Because if you do—if you tell my father, or my brother, or anyone else what I've told you—I'll make good on my threat.
And I'll make sure you watch. I will tie you to the bed and fuck you on their dead bodies.
I will use their blood as lube. So it would be in all of your best interest if you shut your mouth. "
"I understand."
"Good." I pull out of her, tucking myself back into my pants. "Now go to bed. You look exhausted."
She nods. She pulls her dress down, smoothing the fabric with shaking hands. She doesn't look at me. She just turns and walks away, her footsteps echoing on the marble, growing fainter and fainter until they disappear entirely.
I stand in the hallway, alone.
I think about what I've done. What I'm going to do.
They'll all try to stop me. They'll all see me as the monster.
But I'm willing to be the monster if it means getting what I want.