Miss Angelina [2024 Rewrite]

[6] - Demesne

I'd pressed the keys into Elliot's hands and allowed him behind the wheel of my car, knowing I'd swallowed back several more drinks that he had; his movements were far more controlled than my own. While he drove, I couldn't help but stare at him, longing to kiss him and be kissed in return. I wasn't accustomed to showing affection, but I craved it intensely, especially in such moments. I was tempted to ask him to pull over and give in to my feelings right there on the car hood. Instead, I knelt on the seat and kissed his neck while he kept one hand on the wheel, his other hand exploring my body.

I didn't give much thought to showing him around the house. He parked outside and admired the place for a few moments before I took his hand and led him inside. Then, as though a habit, I pulled him up the stairs, stripping pieces of his clothing along the way. As he kissed my neck, I tried to consider where I was leading him; desperate to to avoid certain rooms. My bedroom especially was a sanctuary, a refuge from the pervasive death and sex that tainted many other parts of the house. I allowed no one to enter without explicit reasoning and permission.

I must have seemed lost because he began guiding me to a room. Overwhelmed with emotions, I allowed this to happen, failing to grasp the significance of my compliance. Elliot manoeuvred us into the same room I had occupied the night before. As he pushed me onto the bed, I noticed that Diana had freshened the room with new curtains, sheets, and updated furnishings. She must have done this while we were out this evening—she often busied herself with decorating and cleaning.

What caught me off guard was the knife I could see hidden in the bed frame to the left of the pillow. I must have left it there last night, but it was strange that Diana had missed it. I would have to ensure my eyes weren't drawn back to the blade throughout the night.

My attention returned to Elliot. He stood above me, wearing only his boxer shorts, his eyes drinking in every inch of my body. Luckily for me, I relished prying eyes, but the lack of touch from a potential sex partner was insufferable. I reached out my hand to him and smiled when he took it without hesitation. Pulling myself up from the bed, I leaned my head against his chest. I had missed holding someone so warm and alive. I stood still for a moment, breathing softly and listening to the sound of his heartbeat.

I pulled away from him and sauntered to the foot of the bed. Naturally, he followed, likely yearning for more than just kissing by this point. Slowly, I began to unzip my dress, savouring the moment as he stood silently before me. I was accustomed to having men hang on my every word, but Elliot was different—untrained and impatient. His body language betrayed his desire, and I relished the thought of making him plead.

As I undressed, my focus wavered, and my gaze drifted to the unlit fireplace. It served as a stark reminder that my passion for tonight's endeavour had waned. Elliot's restless movements soon blocked my view, rekindling my desire for him.

Frustration surged when, instead of a pleading man, I faced one in control. He grabbed my arm and turned me around, unzipping the rest of my dress with aggressive determination. His desperation left me no time to comply, and with a few rough pulls, he tore the remaining material, ripping the dress from me.