CHAPTER 4: EACH OTHER'S MEAL

Once we 're done in the pizza parlor, Camille was the one eating our leftovers and even asked for a take out. While me? I'm in my silent war with my own mind, debating whether or not I should go and continue with this stupid deal with a demonic man or just take a walk.

"So, where are we going first?" she said then munched another bite. I hope she won't get sick because of over eating

"The real estate agent said Sunday. So… not that." I said then released a deep breath.

She looked at me then raised a brow. "Then?" She ask while looking at me like I know the answer where we're going next.

"We're going to him straight away." I answered and took a deep breath that made her smile.

"Ooooh, devil man huh," she teased me, stretching the words that made me rolled my eyes at her.

"Camille, shut up," I grumbled, already wishing I hadn't opened my mouth and tell her everything. But of course she wouldn't let up... she wouldn't until I was feeling red from embarrassment.

"He said Las Espanya," I said while scrolling through my phone. "Never heard of it." I said then shrugged my shoulders.

Her eyes grew wide. "Wait! that Las Espanya? The place makes you pay just for breathing within a foot of the door! You certain you want to do this?" I wasn't. No longer.

"Perhaps we should—"

"No way. He's paying. Let him waste that wallet. You already caught a big fish and now you're going to let it go? No way. We're going." She happily declared. God, this girl has no brakes.

Later, I checked the G****e Maps just to find that it was literally on the opposite side of the road. A little walk and we were standing in front of an old path.

I was about to move towards the entrance when my phone rang.

> "Inform the guard that Mr. Windham is waiting for you. Otherwise, be prepared to pay two thousand pesos, just to enter."

Two thousand?! This establishment sure catered to individuals who did not have to look at the bank balance. Which I'm not.

"Hello ma'am, how may we assist you today?" the guard saluted with a practiced smile.

"Uh, Mr. Windham asked me to visit. I'm with—

I looked back to see if Camille were coming in. She was already there. How?

The guard gestured and handed me a gold plate with Roman numerals, as if part of an exclusive secret society. My phone buzzed once more.

> "Go upstairs. Look for the door with a sign reading 'VVIP'. Then enter."

With each step up the marbled staircase, my heart pounded like a war drum. When I reached the door, I paused to take a deep breath.

"I still have a choice." I whispered.

>Just open the door, young lady.

My phone buzzed for his text. I just rolled my eyes then pushed the door open.

Inside was a table setup too elaborate for a spontaneous lunch like a proposal, a trick, or something else sinister. It all shone. The silverware, velvet seats, flowers as carefully set.

"What did you take so long?" his voice floated above me.

I slowly turned and saw him standing behind me, hands in the pocket. "W-what do you want?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" he walked closer. "You vanished. No reason. No farewell."

And now he's talking as if he hadn't vanished before me.

"There was something urgent."

"Are you scared of me?" he asked. Maybe he noticed that I'm shaking right now as I step back.

"N-no."

"Still afraid of me after what happened between the two of us?" he asked as if we've known each other a long time.

He moved into my personal bubble. His eyes were black and devouring.

"After you moan my name? Spread your legs? Beg for my hands?" he added.

Fuck why do he have to mention that again? I'm so disgusted about what happened.

"Shut up. I—I have my own reasons." I muttered. That thing that he'll never get because he's wealthy enough and didn't have to care about money.

"Yeah? How personal? Like maybe someone else was paying more than I did?"

"Enough," I said, my voice on the verge of shaking but not wavering.

"But isn't it true?"

"N-no." My voice was low but stinging.

He gave a low, mocking laugh before drawing out a chair. "Sit. Eat. I don't want to spoil my appetite for a woman play-acting at being noble."

I walk through the door with my head held high. There's something that broke inside me. It's not like I did this before for him to say these words to me. But he'll never understand my reason. We're in a different world.

"I'm sorry that's how you perceive women. Whoever did that to you, maybe you deserved it. Some monsters are born. Some are created. You? You nurtured it." I said in a firm voice, controlling myself to slap him again.

He stood in front of the door and didn't let me go. "Monster, huh?"

I feel like my knees are getting weak as he moved deliberately like a predator, pushing me back. "You're scared of me."

"I'm n-not," I breathed, looking down.

"But you missed me."

"I didn't."

"You want this."

My heart leaped. No. Yes. God, I resented the way his voice sounded like a key fit into a locked door within me, one I had vowed never to unlock again.

"I want to go. P-please." I exclaimed, near breathlessness, but it got out.

He locked the door.

"Then resist," he growled with his voice low that is taunting and threatening. "If you can. But if not, then sit your pretty butt down and eat the damn food."

Before I could even draw another breath, his lips crashed against mine. This kiss was intense like he's feeding his hunger, the type that took the air from my lungs and left ember in its wake.

I should have pushed him away. But I drew him in instead, like my body had been waiting for this moment, yearning in his warmth only he could deliver. I dropped my bag and wrapped my arms around his neck.

The clang of plates and cutlery filled the room as I used one arm to sweep everything off the table.

Shit, I feel the burn. His mouth moved like every second he didn't have me was something I owe him. His kiss was full of obsession. The kind of hunger that drives people to do despicable things.

His fingers explored me, tracing the line of my throat, the curve of my waist, pinching my hips as if he owned every inch. I gasped in his mouth when he inserted his fingers inside me.

"Fuck!" I yelled as he thrusts it in and out, up and down inside my body, in my folds. My body was in a flame. Every nerve was alight like a thousand little matches, burning with his touch.

I hate how much I craved this. I hate how much I craved him.

"Don't get calm honey," he grunted like he's really desperate. "Your moan is driving me crazy." He admitted.

I smirked. I let my blazer slip to the ground.

"You want this?" I breathed, lips against his ear. "Then let's do it."

Meanwhile, something from him was like hungry of me. He pinned me against the table like a hungry man. His hands were desperate yanking, unfastening, discovering, and exploring from the top to my filds and clit. In heat, I helped him unbotton his shirt.

We went at each other like we were desperate and unstoppable. Each kiss tasted like desire. Obdession and passion. Each caresses, a prize. It wasn't love. It wasn't even lust. It was more that that.

His forehead against mine as he breathed with his husky voice while panting.. "I hate that I need you," he whispered.

"Then hate me afterward," I whispered in his ears with a smirk. "But for now, make me forget." And he did with his lips. With his hands. With each part of his body that touched me like it had been anticipating this. I want his body, his warmth, everything of him.

We didn't just kisseed. we're doing more than that. Mking each other feed the hunger and to be each other's meal.

God, this feels heaven.