My Bitch

SILAS PETERSON

I gleamed, realizing I had Zane finally, right where I wanted him. Elio had brought up the idea of a contract marriage, something to blow the media away and make me look… well, not  homophobic.

I turned my head in Zane’s direction. He was all tensed up, his body drawn taut, muscles tight, fists clenched, and teeth fucking gritted. Oh, he was so fucking pissed.

“Here is your new home. I’ll be leaving with Elio. Sort out all terms. While you will sort out your shit with Silas, there is no loophole, you signed the contract, man. Might as well keep living the truth.”

“Bullshit. You aren’t leaving me here with this… this… fuck, no,” he growled again, but his manager did well to ignore his anger, shoving his ass out of the car as Elio sped off.

“It’s just us now… wifey.”

“Don’t fucking call me that,” Zane snapped, shoving my hand off him. He’d always been the controlled one, always wagged his fucking tongue whenever he saw me. I didn’t like this progress at all… he had convinced himself that I broke his heart, left him to ruin, but he had no fucking idea how every minute away from him had been hell for me. He had no idea how rabid I’d grown from being apart from him.

His phone rang on cue, and he yanked it out angrily, his expression cooling immediately. He had the fucking audacity to glance at me like I was some petty thing beneath him before moving a few steps away, probably not knowing the layout of the compound.

I listened to him talk, on with a particular Miles. I saw the dipshit smile and him fucking blush a little… that did it.

I stormed after him, ripping the phone off his ear without proper thinking.

“There is a fucking clause. You are married to me, and much as I fucking hate you, I will not be embarrassed by the likes of you. Get it fucking straight.”

“I’m not your bloody pet. This marriage is just a fucking contract and all for show anyway. I hate you. I cannot stand you. I’ll make appearances when needed, but whoever I fuck or suck in my free time is none of your fucking business,” Zane deadpanned, already heading towards the door to my duplex.

I felt every bit of possessiveness tug at my senses. I watched him hover by the door before dialing in my keycode. He huffed in disbelief, and a little part of me felt… satisfied, pleased. He remembered my code even when it had been years.

I had kept the same code every goddamn house I moved into, hoping one day he might stumble on me.

“I’ll be given my villa, it was stated in the contract, but I need to know which room is mine, so in case I have to sleep here in an emergency, and—”

I grabbed him by the collar, pressing my body against his. I slammed my lips on his, locking us in a kiss. I slid my tongue past his lips, tasting every inch of his mouth, every bit of his breath, every drop of saliva I could fucking take.

He shoved his palms against my chest, but I didn’t budge. I wasn’t working out for nothing. I only shoved him harder against the wall, kissing him harsher. My cock had grown hard to full mast now. I didn’t give a shit that he knew. I’d always been hard for him, only him.

He bit into my lip so hard that metallic taste exploded, blood dripping down my lips. He’d taken that chance to break me off again, a look of disgust etched on his face. I raised my head to laugh in his fucking face at his hypocrisy.

He swung, striking me across the face in a stinging slap. I let out a deep chuckle.

“You’ve always loved to play hard. Cut to the fucking case, Zandoll… we both know you’d want to play pretend all you can, but you want me. You’ve always been mine. Always loved how I forced you to your knees and shoved my cock balls deep into your throat…”

“Stop it,” Zane retorted, a murderous glint passing in my direction as he cut into my words, but I wasn’t done yet… no.

“Why? Getting little flashbacks, are we? You always loved blowing me, made you cum hands-free, always begged to be fucked hard, enjoyed your ass milking my cock, you enjoyed riding me… tell me, wife, had anyone played with that tight ass of yours ever since I left you? Do you play with it yourself, stick things up your ass wishing damn well it was my huge fucking cock, making you senselessly—”

Another stinging slap settled on my cheek, fucking harder than the first one. Zane stood there, tears clouding his gaze now. As much as he hated those words, they were all true.

“You fucking asshole. You are not it, you weren’t then, you aren’t now. Sure, I liked you. I made the mistake of letting my dick think in place of my head, but we both knew we were younger. It’s never going to happen. I do not love you anymore… Silas. You left, and all I have left for you now is hate.”

I felt something… wasn’t sure what the emotion was, but I didn’t like it one bit. It felt ugly, like my heart squeezing in my chest.

Zane had no idea how much his words and actions affected me, how bad I had it… and how possessive I was of him. He hated me? Yes, I wanted all of his hate, all his anger, all his emotions, all of it. They were mine alone. No one else’s.

“Hate me all you want, Zandoll. I left for a reason. I’m back now, aren’t I? And I’m paying you, yeah?” I asked, crowding against him. He refused to move, to flinch, but I could see the hurt on his face.

“Good. If you will take my money, then stay in line and act like my bitch that you are. I’m paying for your every living, breathing minute. That yapping of yours, fucking tone it down. I got you here because I needed to use you. I do not love you either. What, you think I came back for a happy ever after? You should be smarter than that.”

Zane flinched at my words, his lips pressed together, taking every insult I hurled at him, trying his best not to react. But that is what he gets for fucking with me.

“So go on… third room to your right, wife. Get a shower, wash off the filth clinging desperately to you, get dressed in one of those clothes. Our first public outing is tonight. I have a standard to keep. We wouldn’t want my partner reeking of poverty now, would we?” I asked, cocking my head to the side.

Zane stormed away and disappeared down the corridor. The angry slam of the door followed, and I felt my shoulders drop, a frown settling on my face.

I missed him so damn much.

Zane Hart was mine, but if I had to hold him by his neck and force him to accept me, this new version of me, not the weak, pathetic, foolish younger version he had fallen for, then I would.

He was mine alone.

And it was about time he started to let that fucking sink in.

There’s no escaping me.

After all, whatever Silas Peterson wants, Silas Peterson gets.