Page 68 of Sadistic

His jaw had been tight, that muscle jumping the way it does when he's controlling his anger. "When?"

"Sometime last night apparently. After..." She trails off meaningfully.

"After I didn't come home."

"Mmm-hmm." Dalla scoots closer, the couch creaking under our combined weight. "Want to tell me the dirty little details from last night? Wait a second. Is that... is that beard burn on your freaking neck?"

Heat floods my face. "Dalla?—"

"Oh my God, you didnot!" Her eyes go wide. "Revna, did you fuck your future husband?"

"Can you not say it like that?"

"How should I say it? Did you make sweet love to your arranged?—"

I throw a pillow at her face. "Stop."

"Never." She's grinning now, earlier troubles temporarily forgotten. "Details. I need all the details. Was it good? Was it weird? Was it angry? Please tell me there was angry sex."

"It wasn't angry," I admit, pulling the pillow against my chest. The wine is making me loose-lipped, or maybe I just need to tell someone. "It was... unexpected."

"Unexpected how?"

I think about how to explain last night.

The whiskey warmth, the surprising vulnerability in Doran's admissions, the way he'd touched me like I was precious.

Like I was something he'd waited his whole life for.

"He was gentle," I say finally. "Careful. Like he was afraid I'd break or run. He kept asking if I was sure, if I wanted to stop. Even when we were... you know... he was watching my face, making sure I was okay."

"And did you? Run?"

"I thought about it. When I woke up this morning, for just a second, I thought about sneaking out." I close my eyes, remembering. "But then I heard him in the kitchen, and I followed the smell of coffee, and he was on the balcony looking out at the city. He looked... lonely. This man who controls everything, who has all this power, and he looked lonely."

"So you stayed."

"He was making me coffee exactly how I like it. Had my favorite creamer and everything. When I asked how he knew, he just looked at me like it was obvious. Like of course he'd know how I take my coffee." I meet her eyes. "It should creep me out, right? But instead, I just felt... seen. Known. When's the last time someone paid that much attention to what I actually want?"

"Holy shit," Dalla breathes. "Youlikehim."

"I slept with him. Of course I?—"

"No, Rev. You like him.Actuallylike him. Even with all the crazy bullshit."

The doorbell interrupts whatever protest I was forming.

We both freeze—too early for pizza, and we're not expecting anyone.

"I'll get it," I say, but Dalla's already up.

"Together," she insists. "New rule. We don't answer doors alone anymore."

It's just the pizza guy, but something's off.

He seems nervous, eyes darting around the hallway as I sign the receipt.

When I hand it back, our fingers brush and he jerks away like I've burned him.

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