Siren's Call

"Don’t you ever dare to think you can escape me, Dalia. You’re mine to love, mine to hate, mine to protect, and mine to destroy. You belong to me, you’ve always been." His words were nothing but a mere whisper as the man who clutched onto me once again savored my lips as if he’d been famished his whole life for this very moment. His tongue danced with mine in a game neither of us understood. Were they fighting for love or fueled by hate?

One of his hands secured me in my position, as if he was scared I’d escape. And his other hand took its sweet time caressing and teasing my skin as it traveled to its destination. His lips never left mine, even as my lungs burned for air and I wriggled my body to make him stop. But he didn't. It was as if he was intent on making it my last kiss, determined to make it worth it. The moment he found my burning core, he cupped it, squeezing it until I withered in pain.

I bit onto my bottom lip, sinking my teeth so deep that drops of blood dripped from it as I tried to hold in the loud, throaty moan daring to escape my lips. There was just a thin wall keeping us apart from the horde of media who were standing outside eagerly waiting to get their hands on something that would tear us to shreds. If there's something better than a scandal, it's a celebrity scandal. And an affair of a newbie actress with Hollywood's heartthrob is definitely news worth telling. It could ruin his career and my life, yet it didn't matter to him. All he wanted in this moment was to claim the woman he's loved all his life and who destroyed his love within a minute.

"Do you know, Dalia, what you mean to me? I love you so damn much that I could write your name all over my life. Yet I hate you just as much that I'd burn down everything I am to wipe you from existence," he breathed against my lips, finally allowing me to breathe. I took a lungful of air, only to have my breath catch in my throat as his fingers ruthlessly slid into my folds.

"Altair, stop! It... it hurts," I barely managed to speak the words when another of his fingers slid into my burning core, stretching me to a point I'd never experienced before. But my pleas had no effect on him; his three fingers continued to torture me, sliding to the depths of my womanhood and then pulling back, only to fill me to the brim once again. The sensation of his fingers sliding against the sensitive walls of my core set my skin ablaze, yet I couldn't get enough. I've always hated when a man touched me, but why does my body betray me when it comes to him?

What makes him so special? Is it the love he once had for me? Or is it the fact that he's become my only salvation in this godforsaken world? But does it even matter? It's a tale of love, hate, and revenge. Whether love wins or hate does, it doesn't matter, because all I want is my revenge.