Repressed (Wattys 2014 Winner)

Chapter 17

“Why are you wet Milania?” He asked me again, as he began to trace the contours of my body.  He teased me in that sexy mother fucking voice of his.

I felt myself shudder, I wasn’t wet because of him. I was wet because I was thinking about Alex’s and my encounter in the elevator, “If I am wet it’s definitely not for you, Adrian Raphael.” Adrian pulled me so that now I was facing him, “Do not think of Alex, under this roof. You can’t do that.”

“Well then, make me.” I challenged and again, my face was up against the wall, Adrian kept on stroking me, I tried fighting him, but it was of no use, he was way too strong for me, and he had also kept a firm lock on my wrists, I could feel my body building, no, no! I cannot burst for him! Not for this monster! Adrian, realized this as he heard my breath hitch, and he noticed the subtle arch in my back too, he began stoking harder and faster, teasing me again and again. But just before I was about to climax he pulled away, leaving me breathless and throaty, “Adrian? What the fuck?” I could feel the rush fade as quickly as it had come, it left me feeling dazed and disoriented.

“You deserved that.” He said coldly, “Especially, because of the slaps I have been getting from you.”
“You want to torture me? Fine…” I began to pull off the t-shirt and the pants till I was standing stark naked in front of me, “Here I am, take your revenge, because for you revenge is a dish best served with my body.” I grabbed his hands and put them around my waist.

Adrian looked and pulled away, “Milania, I can’t…”

“You can’t…what? I am here, exposed, unclothed, why won’t you touch me now? You were so eager to bring me to my knees just a few seconds ago…” I snarled. I covered my chest with my right hand.

“Milania, I want you, but not in this manner, this is…this is sick.” Adrian replied, he picked up the discarded t-shirt and slipped it over head.

I laughed, “’Sick?’ Says who? You? Ha-ha had this been some other time…” But Adrian cut me off, he was annoyed, “But this isn’t ‘some other time,’ this is now. And I don’t want you like this.” He pointed at my body.

“Like what?” I asked him.

“Like some common cheap whore.”

Even though there was a wall behind me, I took a tiny step back, what he said was a slap in the face even though he hadn’t used his hand to inflict the pain. I could feel my heart rip apart again. Tears began to brim in my eyes, “A w-w-whore?” I stuttered, I was choking.

“Milla, I can get whores and sluts from any place and anywhere, but this, with you…it different. I can’t be stupid around you, I need to be smart otherwise I will scare you the way I did before. I don’t want to do that this time around…” He trailed off and ran his hand through his hair, “Look I gotta’ go, get dressed, I’ll come in the evening and I will take you out for dinner, capito? But remember Milania, you still have a decision to make, it’s the days with Alex and the nights with me or it’s nothing at all. Think well, Milla.” And with that Adrian was gone.

***

The day passed in a daze, most of the hours I was crying myself to the point of passing out. When I was extremely bored I was watch the TV. I couldn’t go out, Adrian had a security code for the main door, which only he knew, and hence the feeling of imprisonment grew even stronger than what it already was.

I heard the door click open, Adrian walked in, hair dishevelled and with bags underneath his eyes, “Hey, you ready for dinner?” He exhaled heavily.

“Are you okay?” I asked him with concern, “I don’t think you are in the right frame of body to go anywhere today.” I got up from the couch, walked to the kitchen and poured him a glass of cold water, I handed it to him, he smiled at me, but I didn’t return it. I only did that out of consideration. Not because I cared for him.

“Sono stanco da morire, Milania.” He said with a sad smile, he was dead tired and I knew he wasn’t lying, his face showing the day’s exertions. I nodded, “I’ll make dinner.”

“No. I’ll order take-out or something. What do you want to eat?” Adrian flatly refused. I gritted my teeth in annoyance, I shook my head and went back to the kitchen. I pulled out potatoes, carrots and a fresh steak of beef from the refrigerator. During the day, l had managed to go through the kitchen supplies and I got to know what was where.

I tore up some aluminium, baking sheet and heated up a casserole, I wrapped the potatoes in the foil and put them in the over to bake. Adrian, who had been sitting in the hall now entered the kitchen and sighed with irritation, “I thought I told you ‘no?’ Why are you cooking when someone else can do it?”

“Adrian, I have hands,” I said holding them in front of him, “And while I have them, might as well use them.” Adrian grabbed my hands and brought them up to his cheeks. He softly kissed my palms and I shivered. “Adrian…don’t.” I pulled away and began to season the beef, I put it in the pan and bent down to check on the potatoes, I felt Adrian slide his hand over my back. I straightened myself, “No.”

“Why?” He whispered, pulling my back, to his chest, he kissed my neck, and softly bit it, despite my resolve to fight him with every inch of life I had, I moaned. I felt him reach for the stove buttons, he turned off the flame. He turned me around, “Milania, look at me.” I looked down, “No.” I pushed him away and turned on the stove again. I flipped the steaks and seasoned it once more before I put it on two porcelain plates. I took out the potatoes, mashed it up and put that on our plates too, “Go take a seat, Adrian, I’ll come to you.”

He immediately left, I seasoned the carrots and placed them carefully on our plates. I grabbed forks and knives and headed out. He had already changed, he was now bare chested, and he was wearing drawstring Hollister sweatpants. He sensed me coming and looked at me over his shoulder, “That smells, amazing.”

“Thank you.” I said as I put his plate in front of him and took my seat. He took a long breath, smelling the food in front of him, “Gosh! It’s been quite a while since I’ve had home-cooked food.”

I stared at him in astonishment, “Then how do you survive?”

“Fast food,” He said and took a bite of his steaming hot beef. I frowned, fast food? But he was fit. How was that even remotely possible if he lived on fast food?

“I work out.” He smirked at me, answering my unspoken question, I looked down at my plate and chewed a carrot. Adrian said nothing and neither did I.

“Where did you learn to cook?” Adrian asked suddenly. I slightly smiled, “TLC, Nigella Lawson, Gordon, Marco Pierre, people like them and their cookbooks.” I put some black pepper sauce on my potatoes and ate them, I moaned softly, he was right, I had managed to cook something amazing today. My cooking never turned out this well, but it did and so the feeling of elation slowly sunk into me.

“Well, you did a damn good job of it.” He said and smiled as he continued to eat. The silence that we had crept in again.

After we finished, none of us moved, after what felt like eternity, I grabbed Adrian’s plate as well as mine and headed into the kitchen.

I began to wash the dishes and did not realize when Adrian had come in, I felt his hands behind my neck, fingers gently tracing circles, I shrugged, “Don’t.”

“Please, baby.” He whispered in my ear. He reached out and turned off the tap.  He kissed my neck, breathing me in, he bit me softly. I bit my lip to stifle a moan, “Don’t fight me.” He softly said into my ear. I crossed my arms over my chest, “Let me go, Adrian. I told you… don’t put your hands on me!” Adrian grunted, he pulled me by my waist and put me on the cool marble slab, “Lie down.” He said.

“No.” I crossed my hands over my chest again.

He exhaled sharply and then pushed me down.