CHOKEHOLD

ALINA’S POV

“I want to touch you,” he whispered, breath hot against my ear. “I want to feel you, Al. I want to put my hands around your neck… choke and taste every bit of you. Pin you down as I fuck you…. Over and over again.”

Each word sent a hot, throbbing sensations down my core.

He positioned himself between my legs. His green eyes holding mine—raw, possessive—as he gathered my juices with the tip of his cock, rubbing my entrance teasingly. “This will remind you who you belong to. This will be all you feel as you scream my name until it's just the ghost of your voice left.”

My head fell back, a moan ripping out of my throat. Legs trembling, pussy twitching in anticipation. “Then do it,” I breathed. “Pleas—”

The feel of thick, veiny dick sliding into me was instant. Shutting me up. “I've missed you so much,” he said, “Missed how your insides grip me.”

I opened my mouth to tell him how much I missed him too. How much I dreamt about this, about his cock in me, but the way he filled me inch by inch left me speechless, breathless. All I could manage was another moan.

“Say my name baby,” he groaned, his thrust picking up pace. “Say you'll never leave again. Say you're mine and mine alone.”

Tears burned at the back of my eyes as I stared up at my kitchen ceiling, hands gripping the edge of the counter as he pounded mercilessly. My lips parted, but no words came out. All I could do was listen to the sound of skin slapping skin, the smell of sex surrounding me.

He reached for my right nipple, squeezing. I winced. “Say it, Al. You'll never leave again.”

His pumping was angrier now. Harder. Faster.

“I won’t,” I cried, my orgasm building up.

“Won't what?” He grabbed my other nipple and twisted it. “Say it, Al!”

“Fuck, Roman,” I hissed. My insides clenched as my climax approached. “I won't leave. I'll never leave. I'll… ahhhh…”

My eyes rolled, entire body convulsing. My nails digging into his skin, his back—enough to draw blood—as I came undone.

“Good girl.”

And just like that my eyes snapped open.

Ears ringing. Chest hammering, sweat slick on skin. My sense of proportion taking a moment to return as I blinked. Brain slowly registering where I was, what I was doing and above all, what just happened.

Instantly, I shot up. Springing on my bed like I had been burned, sheets flying off to reveal what was underneath. My wet shorts, and an even wetter bed sheet underneath my ass. Solidifying a fact I was already aware of.

Orgasm.

Again. The third time this week. The third wet dream, and it hadn’t reached the weekend yet. What is wrong with me? What is going on?

“Oh God,” I breathed deeply, falling back on the sheets. Heart still racing. “Worse part is I can still feel it. Him.”

His hands over my skin, thighs... spreading them apart like butter. His thick thighs settling in there, that hot fleshy meat teasing at my entrance. Working on me, gradually, intentionally, until finally! He plunges right in. “Ohhh,” my head fell back, moaning but quickly releasing what I was doing. “Oh God, Alina. Stop it!”

Get a grip, will you?

“I really need to stop this. Whatever this is!” I cried out, totally throwing off my covers now. “Shouldn’t encourage it, touching myself and what not”  

Not like I hadn’t done it a few times already but still. Get over it and move on! That’s what normal people do. They face their problems and move on.

I can do that, can’t i?

I can. So here we go;

I had sex with my ex.

And now, I have wet dreams about him. Almost every night.

There. “Wasn’t so bad admitting,” I muttered, feeling strangely… indifferent? I didn’t exactly feel any type of way despite facing my truth.

Or should I speak to someone about this? Definitely no.

What about to Cleo, my best friend?  Maybe half of it, watered down with sarcasm and an extra glass of wine. Just as I’ve been doing for the past three weeks now. Ever since that night… but then maybe some truths are better left unsaid. Doesn’t hurt anyone… except me.

“Ugh… this is messed up. So messed up” I sunk to the floors, dragging my messy hair between my fingers. “You know what’s worse? Like the worse thing about this whole… situation?” I paused, “I don’t hate it.”

I don’t hate that I’ve been going to bed and somehow waking up all tangled in sweat-damp sheets, and a chest rising too fast.

 All because of him.

 His voice in my ears, my mind, senses, everything! All low and rough like the way his hands grabbed and pounded senselessly into my depths.

I didn’t hate it. But God, I wanted to hate it! So bad, had more than enough reasons to if we’re counting. But apparently my subconscious didn’t get the memo.

“Ugh… I’m so sick, who has such thoughts about a man almost destroyed their life?” I groaned, the ridiculousness of my own thoughts getting to me. “Enough. Enough of all this, I’ve got bigger problems than wet dreams.”

I’ve got things to worry about.

Like the fact that as at 10:30am, which was in fact less than three hours from now judging by the clock on the wall; I had to stand in front of one of the most influential businesses in the city and sell them a vision only I could give.

“Stand up, Alina. You’ve got no time for a damn dick!” With that, I yanked the curtains open and headed for the shower. “Time to wash him off. Stains and all.” I mumbled, “Hopefully it will be the end of this”

‘You wish’ the heavens literally said back to me, but a girl can dream, right?

About an hour and half later, I was out.

“Seriously, you need to get laid,” Cleo said. The 10^th time this month maybe.

“You’re back on this again?” I groaned, shutting my car door. “I thought we were over this.”

“Clearly, we weren’t. Look at you!” she shot back, circling of the car. “You’re literally crying out from sexual deprivation.”

 I just rolled my eyes, facing the glass tower in front of us- Tulip Hotels. Oxygen’s choice of presentation suite. And by that, I mean the damn near heavenly experience luxury lounge everyone whispered about.

The very establishment I was to make a proposition to, hence the presentation.

“You’re not getting out of this, Lina. No matter what.” Cleo stated, “How can a 25-year-old vehemently refuse to be with a man after one horrible night with a measly excuse of-

“I have sex!” I cut her off, exasperated.

“When? In your dreams?” she fired, a teasing smirk on her blood red lips. “You know that doesn’t count, right? Or do you think your ‘sexy dream man’ is going to somehow metamorphose in the middle night and jus-”

 “Ugh, you’re hopeless!” I pushed her off, rolling my eyes for the hundredth time. Her chuckles chasing after me and echoing around us. “You didn’t even let finish; it was about to get good!”

“Whatever Cleo,” I retorted, “I have a presentation to catch. Maybe you don’t” With that, I pushed past the revolving doors of the hotel. My mind drowning out Cleo’s chuckles and welcoming thoughts about Oxygen. They were pretty much a big deal. The number one in the city’s nightlife.

When you really want to have a good time, Oxygen was that place. And today, due to them considering a full expansion for their women. An entire wing designated to them, their power, their allure… they needed me. A creative consultant.

That’s my pitch. My shot.

Prepared weeks for it. Should’ve been nervous, rehearsing lines and everything… instead, I started my day by entertaining ridiculous thoughts about a man I’d sworn to delete from my life. And now getting ‘harassed’ by my best friend over my sexual life.

Of course, i have sex.

Had one barely a month ago, the very reason my dreams won’t quit!

But of course, Cleo didn’t know about that. Not yet.

Could already envision her scolding. I messed up-I knew that, didn’t exactly need to hear it from someone else.

So here I was, keeping this big soul- eating secret. Pretending to be all good. Wet dreamer at night, confident, smart woman by day.

“What a lovely combination, Alina. You go girl,” I muttered sarcastically, the elevator drifting close.

Not before Cleo’s slipped in though. “We’re not done with our conversation, dreamer.” She whispered, standing next to me. “After this whole project thingy, I’m getting you a man. A real man.”

I almost choked on that last word. Her innocently smiling eyes meeting my dumbfounded ones. “I don’t even know what to say to you.” I shook my head, looking forward with a lopsided smile cause really, she might be right.

Maybe that’s what I needed. To be free of that night.

Of Him.

**********

About 20 minutes later we were seated at the 6^th floor of the building. Together with other consultation firms hoping to land this contract with Oxygen.

“Boldline Creatives?” a woman called, dressed in a neat blue suit. I raised my hand to signify, “You’re up,” she said and the doors closed behind her.

“This is it,” I said to Cleo, grabbing our stuff as we rose to the door. “Yup. let’s go get them, dreamer!”

“You’re really not going to drop this dream thing, are you?” I hissed hotly. But in response, she smirked. “Never,”

“Never? Cleo you-

But she pushed the door open then. The chill air from the presentation room hitting me in the face before I could even make a statement or pull myself together. But maybe that was the problem.

The root of the entire problem, cause as I scoffed at Cleo’s retreating figure. Huffing and keeping my cool, I didn’t have enough preparation for what was inside that room. Or rather ‘who’ was inside that room.

Didn’t have enough time to react. Come up with a quick plan or at least stop myself from standing frozen like some chicken dumped in a freezer. Right in the middle of the entire room. Right in the middle of the freaking presentation room!

“Err, miss Monroe?”

“Miss?” I could hear them calling. Could hear my name, but it all sounded far away. So distant and totally not as earth shattering as what my eyes were fixed upon. The figure at the head of the table my eyes were fixed upon.

And as he raised his head to stare in my direction, those familiar green eyes landing on me… I knew it was all over.

Completely and totally over, cause what was he doing here?!