Eleven

                                    

                                          

Natalia
        My unfamiliar cotton sundress tangles around my thighs as I twist in Savio's grip. He is so much stronger than me that I can't even hope to pull my hand away. I press my free hand into his chest, trying to create some distance. I might as well be pushing a stone wall. Through his thin shirt I can feel rock-hard muscles, as dangerous and subtle as the strength of a panther.
        I feel my cheeks start to heat up as his breath tickles my neck. His free hand tightens against my back at the same time I feel a slight sting in my shoulder. He bit me! To make matters worse, I can feel my nipples hardening and a rush of pleasure that makes me dizzy. The past year or so, I've had so many worries that could barely bring myself to masturbate, let alone hook up. I didn't realize it had made me so horny. The man wrapped around me feels warm and solid; I haven't had sex since I escaped my past life. I didn't even realize I could enjoy it anymore, but a single nip from this man has reminded me what mind-blowing pleasures a good lover can bring. 
I struggle one last time, my body rubbing against his, furious at the whimper of desire that rises in my throat. He's trapped me effortlessly; I can't move at all. His lips tease up my neck, forcing my head back as he sucks on my throat. Terror, anger, and longing mix nauseatingly in my stomach until I cannot distinguish them anymore. Before I even realize what I'm doing, my free hand slides down his body to his crotch, groping at the hard bulge in his pants. "Please," I moan. I have no idea if I am begging him to let me go or begging him to continue. My brain refuses to process anything but his wandering hands and his soft, firm lips exploring me so thoroughly.
Suddenly, he pushes me. Not to the ground, but away from him, sending me stumbling backwards across the grass. When he looks at me, his eyes are as cold as they were during the club audition, taking me in as if I'm a bug pinned on a table. He swipes a sleeve across his mouth, like he wants to clean the taste of me away. "What's wrong?" I murmur, wrapping my arms around my rapidly cooling body.
"Don't speak to me." His voice rumbles in his chest. "And stop cleaning my house." His eyes are so empty I'm afraid I'll fall into them and never stop. With that, he turns and walks into the house, never looking back. 
Dom bumps against the back of my knees, whining softly. I sit on the grass, stroking his back. The sunlight no longer feels warm on my back; I can feel the chilly autumn breeze cooling the sweat on my skin. I almost feel more miserable than if Savio had assaulted me relentlessly. Confusion and boredom haunt my days, and all the courage I built up to face him is waning away. Why does he want me here if he's just going to ignore me? Was that his goal in the first place: show me how undesirable I am?
I spit in the grass, pretending it's his face. Every day I tell myself I'm going to have it out and tell him exactly what I think of him, but his dark, deadly gaze seals my mouth as soon as he walks in the room. I should be grateful, getting my end of the contract without paying anything out in return, but nothing is worth this miserable game of hot and cold. I'm not an object. I want him to treat me like the woman I am. He either wants me, or he doesn't.
When I finally go inside, I find a plate of chicken salad in the fridge, but no Savio. That night, I creep up to Savio's room, wondering what he would do if I agreed to sleep in his bed, but he's not there. I sneak around the house, struggling to find all the light switches, almost getting lost in the never-ending string of empty rooms. Unless he's hiding in a closet, Savio isn't home. I thought for a moment that our encounter on the grass would help bridge the gap between us, but it appears to have burned our flimsy bridge down entirely. With a sigh, I return to my spot on the couch and fall asleep.
Sometime later in the evening, my phone starts to ring. I scramble to answer, expecting to see Savio's name on the screen. He entered his number into my phone on my first day here. Instead, it's a number I don't recognize.