Page 38 of Lust

When she opens the door, I’m ready for her.

She looks shocked to find me standing on her doorstep. She’s wearing a white nightdress which is ever so slightly see through and hints of her curves show through.

“You are a fucking disgusting bitch,” I slur, “and I hate you to the very depths of my soul.”

20

DICK SIZE ISN’T REALLY THE PROBLEM

ROWENA

Felix sways slightly before falling over in a heap in my doorway.

“Charming.” As I stare down at the man who’s made my life a living hell, my first instinct is to kick his sorry ass out of the way of my door to shut it and if he happens to fall off the edge of the balcony so be it. If it wasn’t for the fact that he is the only thing between me getting out of here and being stuck here for all of eternity, I probably would have. Because eternity would have to be shared with him.

“Fuck me!” I grab his arm and drag him into my room before anyone sees. I’ve never been one to put myself in a dangerous position, but being who I am, danger follows me whether I want it or not. Being alone with a man whose last words to me were how much he hates me, makes this one of the worst positions I can be in. The stench of Dragonfire Whiskey is rolling off him in waves. Why is it these tiny-dicked men have to get raving drunk before they get up the courage to spew their vitriol? Not that he is small-dicked. His dick was actually on the large size.

“That’s not the point,” I murmur to myself as I shut the door behind him and ponder his unconscious body. He’s got tiny-dick energy, and that’s my point.

Either way, dick size isn’t really the problem here. The problem is how to get him the fuck out of my apartment before he kills me.

I nudge him with my foot to make sure he really is unconscious, and then, when he doesn’t rouse, I kick him hard enough to leave a bruise on his side. It brings me more satisfaction than I care to admit.

I’ve spent my life living in a world where people think they are better than me, purely because of who I am. In pretty much every circumstance, I’ve been the subject of, at best, other people’s fun at my expense and, at worst, danger. A man killed me because he didn’t like the fact he couldn’t pigeonhole me into what he wanted me to be. Felix hasn’t hurt me physically yet, but he’s barely any better. He’s done everything he can to bring me down. Once upon a time I would have let him, but now I’m the one in the position of power. From the second my lips touched his dick, he was at my mercy and not the other way around. And here we are again, where his safety and wellbeing is in my hands. Glorious.

I sit on the bed while I try to make a plan. Obviously, I can’t let him wake up here, but at the same time, I don’t want to be carrying him up to his room. Not where the likes of Anthura might catch us. If Anthura thinks for one minute Felix has been in my room, I wouldn’t put it past her to get Felix disqualified. And if Felix gets disqualified, then I do too. Thanks to my magnificent blow job skills, we’re now in the top ten. We only have to get through the next two trials, and I can move down to the next circle, no longer tethered to him. The next circle is Gluttony, so the only thing I’ll need to be eating is food and not Felix’s scrawny dick…

Okay, not so scrawny.I hate how I keep coming back to it.

I’ve never given a blow job that wasn’t forced on me in my entire life. Men wanting the power over me, or viewing me as a novelty, made dragging me into club toilets or dark alleys a more commonplace event than I want to remember. The simple act of going to a bar was never simple. I’ve never known the touch of a man to be anything other than brutal. Yesterday was the first time I’ve given a blow job where there was no one gripping my hair, pulling me forward and backward until I gag on their cum and they could throw me to the ground like a piece of trash.

I stare at him for a good few minutes while I reflect on my miserable life, and so far, pretty crummy death. I thought once I had a real body, one that I felt comfortable in and wasn’t a result of surgeries, I’d be happy, but it turns out a real vagina and breasts don’t take away the bullshit.

Bullshit from the likes of Felix Barclay.

He looks like a fucking angel, even in the weird position I’ve dragged him into on the floor. Years ago, I might have dreamed about ending up with someone like him. Rich, great looking, powerful. Years ago, I was naïve. I head to the closet and grab a scarf.

If I can’t throw him out, I can at least make myself safe. I haul him to a sitting position by the side of my bed. His head falls onto my shoulder as I wrap the scarf tightly around his wrists and bind him to the bed post. When I’m done, I step back and check out my work. I don’t know if it’s going to hold him. I can see at least three ways he can escape, then press a pillow to my face while I sleep. It’s no consolation that it takes a lot to kill someone in Hell. I can feel pain and I’m partial to breathing. I pick up my Portal and, after throwing a robe over my nightdress, I head out through the back door. I don’t want to be around when he wakes up and discovers where he is. If he’s still tied to the bed in the morning, I’ll ask Juliette and Quinn to help me untie him. He can’t fight all of us at once. As it is, I’m already going to impede on them. I head next door to Juliette’s room first. There’s a red ribbon tied around the door handle. From those nights when we shared a room, Juliette told me that she’d tie a ribbon on the door handle if she… in her words - was fucking someone’s brains out. I guess old habits die hard. I call the platform and head up to Quinn’s room, hoping like hell that she’s not decided to invite Remy back with her. There’s no answer. Her date must be going almost as well as Juliette’s.

I cup my hands to my face and let out a string of quiet expletives. I have nowhere else to go. I could sleep on one of the love seats in the lounge or even lay along one of the benches in the restaurant, but there I’ll be exposed to questions. Plus, eff it, why should I give Felix more power over me? It’s time I pull up my big girl panties and deal with him once and for all.

When I get back to my room, I find he’s slumped over so his head is now on the floor. His arms are still tied to the bedpost behind him, though they are crossed in what looks like a painful position.

“Damn!”

I untie his hands and pull them in front of him before putting him in the recovery position. I’ll be damned if let him into my bed with me, but at the same time I don’t want to wake up to him choking on his own vomit. I use the scarf to bind his legs instead of his hands. It won’t stop him from being able to strangle me, but if he tries to run after me, he’ll fall on his face.

The bottom of my nightdress drapes over his face as I step over him and get into bed. I lay there, listening to him breathing, full of nerves in case the deep breaths stop and I’ll somehow be held accountable for him dying on my bedroom floor. When I’m sure he’s both breathing and still unconscious, I let myself relax. He’s going to be like a bear with his balls in a trap in the morning, but I can’t deal with it tonight. After the day I’ve had, sleep is the only thing that’s going to prepare me for the onslaught I know I’ll face when I wake up.

“Rowena.”

At first I think I’m dreaming, but when I hear my name being called again, my eyes shoot open. I move to the edge of the bed and peek over. Felix is pretty much where I’ve left him, but the hand under his head has moved slightly.

“Rowena.”

Shit!“What?” I hiss back. When he doesn’t answer, I dare to look more closely. He’s still asleep. He’s calling for me in his sleep? My nerves begin to pick up as I wonder if he’s dreaming of punching my lights out when he speaks again.

“That’s good. Just there. Hmmm.”

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