2-2
700 Words
~ Seraphina ~
The darkness of my bedroom pressed in on me.
Sleep was an impossible dream, haunted by the seductive power of Alessandro. Two to one, I whispered to myself.
I remembered his face, his erection, and the connection between his anger and his desires. I got him. I really do.
But the win felt hollow. I needed more. I needed to beat him on aggregate, to make him crack, to make him feel the raw, insistent need that churned within me, a need I refused to acknowledge.
I threw off the covers and I walked towards his room.
The door was slightly ajar. I pushed it open.
He was standing in the center of the vast room, wearing only a low-slung towel that barely covered his hips. Water slicked his skin, clinging to the hard planes of his chest and the defined lines of his abs.
I walked in and sank onto the plush sofa by the window. I deliberately spread my legs, letting the silk nightgown part reveal a hint of my thighs.
His eyes, dark and sharp, instantly locked onto mine.
He walked towards me. His gaze never left mine.
As he approached, I watched, mesmerized, as his towel-clad form filled my vision. And then, he dropped the towel. His c**k, already thick and hardening, sprang free.
What! He's always ready for s*x? I wondered. He stood over me, his shadow falling over my face.
"Are you ready to break the contract, Seraphina?" he asked.
A smile touched my lips. He was falling again. "Over my dead body!" I countered.
My body was screaming, begging for him, but my mind was locked in battle. I had him. He was ready to cave.
I stood up, planning my exit, ready to deliver my new score. "3-1," I would whisper, leaving him to writhe in his desire.
But when I reached for the door, it was locked. My fingers fumbled with the handle, frustration flaring. "Open it," I demanded, my voice sharper than I intended.
He merely smiled. "I want you to see something." He turned, his voice rising slightly. "Maze!"
My blood ran cold. No. He wouldn't. The door to his private bathroom opened. And there she was. Mazikeen. Naked. Her body was a vision of sculpted perfection, every curve defined, every muscle taut.
She moved with a fluid grace that was almost liquid. Her hips swayed deliberately as she walked towards him.
My throat tightened. At that spot, I realized I wanted him. I didn't just want him, I wanted him to be mine alone.
She reached him, and her dark eyes briefly flicked to me. Then she knelt, slowly, sensually, at his feet.
"Let me show you what you're missing, Seraphina," Alessandro said as he threw his head back.
Mazikeen's hand, long and elegant, reached out, her fingers closing around him, from his knee, up his thigh, and was going upwards.
I watched, horrified, as her hand traveled up his thighs, her grip firm, possessive. My gaze was fixed on her hand, then on him. I looked away, my vision blurring, my stomach churning. I couldn't breathe.
"Stop!" I barked.
Alessandro watched me, his smile broadening. "You can't give me what I need, Seraphina," he purred, his gaze dropping to Mazikeen's hand, then back to my face. "I can get it elsewhere."
"Just stop!" I shouted again, my voice cracking, tears pricking at my eyes. I didn't want to admit it. He was taking the game too far. The sight was a knife twisting in my gut. It was pure torture. He knew it.
"Leave, Maze," he commanded.
Mazikeen rose, gave me one last, knowing look, and walked out.
He walked towards me and stopped inches away, his breath hot on my face. "Two-two, mi vida," he whispered, followed by a soft, mocking laugh. "Next time, don't play with fire unless you're ready to burn."
My chest heaved. I couldn't take it anymore. The jealousy, the humiliation, the raging desire I refused to admit.
I stormed out of the room, leaving him standing there.
I wanted to make it 3-1, but now it's 2-2. Plus, I couldn't hide my jealousy. “f**k!”
- Writer
