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And loved it.
He stared back, making no attempt to move, his rejection of my words clear and all the more potent because of his silence.
“I asked you a question,” he said a moment later.
“What question?” I said, feeling defeated but not caring if it showed, if that would end this ridiculous standoff.
He tilted his head, studying me. “Did you have a good time?”
I stared at him, that feeling of defeat leaving as my temper started to rise.
“Yeah, I had a great time,” I said, my voice low, lethal.
I locked eyes with him, feeling reckless in a way that scared me and made it impossible for me to hold my tongue. “It was a really great time. Better than a great time. We fucked like dogs in heat. It was amazing.”
He stared at me, unmoving except for the tick in his jaw.
I was getting to him.
And I liked it.
Knew that I was playing with fire, but I still couldn’t stop myself.
“Oh, Elias,” I whispered, drawing out the last syllable of his name. “You should have seen it. I sucked his cock in the front seat of his car. Let him throat fuck me like I was a whore. And I swallowed his cum. Didn’t spill a single drop.”
I stared at him, saw that tick get a little bit faster, but he still didn’t move.
I kept pushing.
I laughed, then closed my eyes and breathed out a deep sigh. Then met his eyes again. “Then, I went back to his house. He had me face down, ass up on his kitchen table while he fucked me from the back. I lost count of how many times I came.”
I’d been getting closer, then closer to him as I spoke, and I knew the smile on my face was deranged.
I didn’t care.
“I let him come in my pussy bare. Of all the times we’ve fucked before, I never let him do that. I did tonight. And I can still feel his cum inside me,” I said.
The little bit of sanity I left told me I was going too far, but I didn’t listen. It wasn’t enough that Elias held my father’s life in his hands.
Wasn’t enough that I’d given years in service of a debt that wasn’t even mine. No, that was never enough for Elias.
He was always there demanding more, pushing, intruding.
And I was fucking sick of it.
“Well?” I said when I was standing not even two inches away from him.
“Well what?” he said, his voice surprisingly calm given the expression on his face and that tick in his jaw.
“You don’t have anything to say?” I asked.
“No, Kayla, I don’t have anything to say,” he said.
“Why not?” I asked, suddenly not feeling as powerful as I had just moments ago.
“Because you’re lying,” he responded, sounding smug, sure, even though his eyes burned with rage.
“No I’m not,” I lied. “You want to check? I bet you can still smell him on me.”
