Page 44 of Lust
I swallowed the lump in my throat.
No.
That would never happen. I wouldn’t let it. Sara was the strongest person I knew. The only person strong enough to survive the monster to live inside me.
Unsure how to proceed, I waited for an indication of what else she needed. The deafening silence only stretched between us. With my knees drawn, I sat next to her on the bed, incapable of providing a single consolation after what I had done.
Hours went by like this, with my back pressed against the headboard while Sara refused to open her eyes.
“Do you want something to eat, Angel?”
Such a ridiculously stupid question. No, she didn’t want to fucking eat. She wanted me to leave, not wanting me to be the first thing she saw after opening her eyes. But there was no one else here. Even if I were the man she hated, I couldn’t leave her alone in this state without knowing how she might react.
Her breathing evened out at long last, and she fell asleep. Upon realizing she was stuck with me, Sara distanced herself from me by escaping into her subconscious.
I brushed the hair back from her forehead, staring intently at a face that seemed shattered. It was never supposed to happen this way between us. Now that it had, I couldn’t take away the pain of what I did, nor could I erase the memory of her tight cunt squeezing my cock.
No longer could I live without the feel of her around me. Only one truth remained in our lives—Sara was mine, whether she liked it or not.
* * *
Istirred in the dark, moonlit room. At some point, I had shifted to lie next to Sara, cradling her in my arms. The gentle rise and fall of her chest indicated she was still fast asleep. I had no concept of how much time had elapsed, but the sound of a scream interrupted my slumber.
An entity emerged from the dark shadows with hints of a clipped wing dragging behind him. Immediately, I knew it was that demon who had taunted me for years. There was no escaping him because there was no escaping your own self.
For the rest of the night, he replayed Sara’s screams from earlier and made me listen to them even as I put a pillow over my ears to drown out the sounds. I told myself that the atrocious screams were a figment of my imagination. A nightmare. All the same, I saw his wicked smile because we both knew the truth.
The fallen angel had bested the good angel. I had failed Michael by letting Asmodeus win.
Inever wanted to wake again. I could suspend the truth with my eyes tightly shut, but the soreness between my thighs wouldn’t let me live the lie. Once I opened my eyes, I had to face the reality of what had happened.
At some point, a warm embrace cocooned me. Marred with shock and trauma, I let myself believe that Tobias was comforting me.
Why had he arrived so late? What had kept him for so long?
The thought of him finding out about what happened made my heart lurch, especially after he had professed his love for me. But I had to come clean because, surely, he’d notice if I was no longer a virgin. What if his perception changed after finding out the truth? What if he no longer viewed me as a woman he desired and pitied me instead?
I didn’t want anyone treating me like a porcelain doll. The preconceived rejection shut down my brain, and I continued to keep my eyes shut to deny what had happened.
Later, the realization dawned on me that it wasn’t Tobias at all but Tristan holding me through the night.
Stunned with the fear of rousing the monster from earlier, I didn’t make a single sound. I prayed to God for his touch to vanish, waiting for him to fall asleep so I could make my escape. But he never did.
Instead, sleep took me under, and images of a carnal beast flashed in the minds of my slumber, promising this was only the beginning of my nightmares.
* * *
When I woke next, the pulsating pain and the cruelly bright sunlight against my closed lids rushed back memories from last night. Bewildered, I leaped out of bed and frantically searched my surroundings.
No sound, nor was there anyone else in sight. Tristan’s room was bare with minimal furnishing—a modern, white bed with two matching nightstands. Everything had been tidied up as if the appalling act from a mere twelve hours ago never took place.
Did he do this?
With soft feet, I walked toward the sliding doors to the veranda, but it was locked from the outside.
Odd.
Desperate to leave, I checked the bedroom door next and rattled the doorknob. Also locked.
