Lust Behind The Mansion Walls

Aria “When pain pushes you to the edge, sometimes the only way out is into the arms of a stranger.” I’d just had enough of my father's bullshit. I thought he had finally changed but apparently change is one of his greatest enemies. Cheating on my mother with her sister? This was cruel of him. Seeing my mother in pain was the same as twisting a knife in my stomach and that was what I was feeling tonight. My chest tightened, my stomach churned, and the room suddenly felt too small. Rage and disbelief tangled inside me, and I knew if I stayed one second longer, I’d explode. I turned on my heel before they could see the tears threatening to spill. I needed to get out—out of the house, out of the mess, out of my own head. London was alive tonight, and I needed its chaos to drown my fury. I changed quickly into something that screamed rebellion: a fitted black dress that hugged my curves, heels that clicked like defiance, and lipstick the colour of sin. The girl in the mirror didn’t look broken—she looked dangerous. My phone buzzed—Nick: “Where are you?” Me: "I don't know and don't come looking for me,” I replied, putting the phone back in my pocket and switching it off. I just wanted to be alone and disconnect from the chaos going on in my head for a while even if it meant not having my best friend with me. Maybe I should just drink till I forget my own name. Good idea, I thought. I headed straight to a bar downtown. The bar I found was alive with neon and noise, a perfect place to disappear. Perfect. This is where I belong. I moved to the bartender, signalling him to take my orders. “What can I get you?” He asked. “Anything to make me forget who I am tonight?” I replied, my tone high as the music was loud. “I know exactly what you need,” he replied, mixing the drink right in front of me. “Here.” He leaned towards me whispering, “Just make sure you have a man to remind you who you are by morning.” I put up a smile as I sipped the drink. He was right. I need a man. I took my drink, walking slowly to the rhythm of the music and dancing. I walked out of the club as I was already suffocating in the room—I wanted to get some fresh air, think and maybe go back home to my misery. Just when I was about to give up, a luxurious car pulled right in front of me. It was a McLaren—only owned by crazy rich people. A guy alighted from the car. He had an athletic build, tall, piercing almond-shaped grey eyes and a symmetrical face. He wore a tux, and I could see the ink peeking from beneath his shirt. He was hot—something untamed flickered in his eyes, like he could ruin me and I’d beg him to. But tonight, I wanted trouble. Another lady alighted, yelling at him. She wore a red shimmering gown that hugged her skin. She was blond with blue eyes, but that was not where my attention was. I was focused on the hot boy in a tux walking towards me. Before I could catch my breath, he gently pulled his hands on my waist drawing me closer to him. He whispered, “You look like trouble,” his lips curling into a half-smile. “But I could use a little trouble tonight.” “I’m not—” Before I could fire back, his hand slid to the small of my back, pulling me closer. "My ex is watching, let's give her a show.” And then his mouth was on mine—hot, daring, and reckless enough to make me forget my name. His voice was deep and commanding. My heart began beating fast, and I could feel his warm breath against my skin. It was as if time itself was on hold—sounds faded and visions blurred. All I could think of was his masculine hands on my body. The other lady did not seem to take it anymore so she forcefully pulled him away from me. “You son of a b***h,” she yelled. “How can you kiss her right in front of me?” “Because she tastes better than you,” he replied coldly, dragging me to his car like he owned me. I was supposed to be terrified of the stranger taking me to his car, but this was the drama I wanted to help me escape my reality. “Get in,” he commanded with his deep voice. I obeyed, and he shut the door. He got into the car and drove like he, too, was getting away from something. “Where do you get off?” He asked after a long period of silence. “Wherever your wheel takes me,” I replied, my tone low. He let out a subtle smirk, increasing his speed limit, he drove freely like he was racing the wind. That night, the kiss, the ride—it was the freest I’ve ever been. I wished time were infinite—I’d make that moment forever. He finally stopped at a fancy cabin near a lake. It was quiet and distant from the world. The only thing I heard was crickets and birds. He opened the door, and I walked in. Some relics that depicted sophistication were on the wall. The furniture was finely carved from woods that showed nothing but wealth. He stepped in, took off his tux and all I could see was how fine he was built. His tattoos, his hair, everything. I was prepared to let him take every piece of my anger and turn it into something wild. “Come here,” his voice was low, steady, but there was something in it that left no room for hesitation. My feet moved before my mind could catch up, closing the distance between us. His fingers found the edge of my dress, slow and deliberate, as if unwrapping something he’d been waiting for. Our lips stayed tangled in a kiss that grew deeper, more urgent, tasting of need and unspoken words. When his mouth trailed down my neck, over my collarbone, and lower, every brush of his lips felt like he was memorising me, piece by piece, and my breath hitched with every movement. “f**k, you taste good,” he said softly while he lifted me gently, placing me on his bed. I lay down there like I was waiting to be sacrificed. My body was already heated up and my thighs clenched—waiting for him to devour me. “Ever done this before?” He whispered as he traced his hands around my body, down to my thighs, delivering me the best feeling ever. “Just—Just f**k me,” I whispered, my breath was fast. I wanted him inside me already. He settled between my thighs, his body warm and commanding as he guided himself into me, slow and deliberate, each movement sending a rush of heat through my veins. “God…” The word slipped from me like a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Each movement was slow but deliberate, as if he were memorising me. My heartbeat stuttered when his fingers tightened around my waist, his warmth sinking into my skin. When his low moan brushed my ear, something inside me unravelled—a mix of need and surrender, and I found myself wishing he’d never stop. “Yeah— don't stop,” I moaned softly, holding him tightly. He continued faster and faster till he pulled out immediately and came. My fast breath was slowly calming, and my mind was fading into nothingness. The next thing I knew, I dozed off opening my eyes the next morning. “s**t!” I yelled as I checked my phone. It was nine in the morning with twenty voice mails from my mother and best friend. I jolted up, threw on my dress and headed out— no time for anything else. “Hey,” he called out as I was about to open the door. I didn't stop. Whatever he wanted to say doesn't matter—I’m never seeing him again. Back home, my mother was in the living room with Nick pacing to and fro. “Mum,” I called out softly. “You are going to be in big trouble, young lady,” she yelled. “I’m sorry, mum, I was—” “Zip it,” she cuts in. “I don't have time for explanations. “Pack your bags, we’re moving. I’m getting married again.” The world tilted. Who? Why now? And why did I feel like this was the beginning of the end?