Unholy Obsession

Chapter 7; Sex Contract

Hannah's POV

The evening sun hit the mirror before me, causing a halo of golden light to beam above my shoulder. A smile crept up my face as I stared at my reflection. Glossy lips, curls left to shield the sides of my face and a pretty heart pendant resting on my neck. It was just the way Lance loved it. This was the look he always complimented whenever I sported it. I was certain he wouldn't think otherwise now.

I watched the door of his suburban house, my shoulders tensing. Was this a wise decision? The key in my hand pressed deep into my skin as I held tightly to it. Despite our breakup, I was still with his house key. It was customary that I returned it but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. I knew the moment I crossed that threshold, it would all be over.

The columns of his house stood strong, staring down at me as if I were some sort of irrelevant object. Their shadows cast by my side, my lungs burning as fear burned through my veins, slowing down time.

Go back.

Drop the key and go back.

I bit on my lower lip. We couldn't end this way. We could work things out like usual. It was delusional to think so, but we always worked things out. Stepping on the stairs that led to his entrance, my knees trembled with each step. I reached his door and knocked. 

Crickets chirped in the distance and the cold night air whistled by. No response came after a few seconds and I held his door knob, a wicked chill tormenting my hand. A creak cut the air and my heart hammered in my chest. Welcoming me was the usual sight of his lobby, with his awards and signed jerseys hanging on the wall. The white walls seemed to close in on me and I counted my breath, steadying myself.

I delved deeper, my ankles pulsing, blood rushing to my ear. Logically, I should accept it. I should accept the silly fact that I wasn't satisfactory in bed. To Lance, I wasn't good enough. But why? Why did I keep wanting to repair things? Why did I always put other people's happiness ahead of mine? Maybe it had to do with the fact that my strict Catholic parents always saw me as the perfect Christian daughter. The daughter who always attended church, who always read the Bible. But whenever I just wanted to do something kids my age did, they would turn on me.

No partying.

No drinking.

No dating.

And from my sweet dear mother, no having sex till I was married. Hilarious. If only she knew, she would disown me. To make them happy, I did my best to satisfy all their wants, not minding that they didn't listen to me. God was supreme. But what about my happiness? To them, none of that mattered. Abiding by the Bible blindly could get so foolish when logical thinking and emotional intelligence were thrown out the window.

My thoughts were whipped from me when a loud snap sliced the air. Eyes widened, I followed the sound, slithering through the place till I paused at the sight of two pair of heels in the corner. They were laid next to Lance's bedroom door and the soft laughter of women filled the air.

Fuck.

He had women over. I was old enough to know what was happening in the room, but unfortunately, I was foolish enough to walk towards my doom. Anxiety spiked through the roof of my mind, my fingers tingling faster the closer I got to his room. Stepping into view, my heart dropped. 

Lance was in the most unusual position I would never have imagined him in. He was hanging from the roof in chains, his ass in the air as a blonde lady licked his puckered asshole while the other stroked his erect cock. What in the gods of BDSM was happening here? His hips bucked as the blonde women explored his body, flogging him with a whip. His bottoms were red from all the beating and they were so lost in themselves that they spent over 3 minutes fooling around with him without noticing me. My heart shattered as he released his satisfaction, both of them fighting for it, their mouths getting coated in white.