A Desperate Lie

“ oh…. Mr Ethan….go in deep!” I said, as my voice was like a ragged, breathless whisper. My eyes, which had been closed, snapped open and locked on his. The fake pleasure on my face was a mask I had worn for years, but the look in my eyes now was something else entirely.

 It was a mix of triumph, desperation, and a raw, hungry animalism that I didn't recognize in myself. He fingered me so deep while I stroked so fast, my hand was like a frantic blur against his cock. The rhythm was primal, a silent language of pure, unbridled need. The world outside the small restroom had ceased to exist. There was only us. Only this.

His face was a mask of pure pleasure, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead. He panted, his ragged breaths hot against my face. "What's your name, beautiful?” he asked, his voice a low growl.

 My lips clicked together for a moment, a second of pure, silent panic. My real name, the name of the girl who died on a rainy night fourteen years ago, was a sacred thing. It was not for him. It was not for Malcovich.

I responded so fast, a lie I had practiced a thousand times. The name was a key, a lock, a way to keep my real self safe. "Norah…. Handsome “ I said, my voice husky and low. 

That's the name I want you to believe... that's the name I gave him. I watched as a small, triumphant smile spread across his face, and a sick wave of satisfaction washed over me. He had taken the bait. My deception was complete.

Immediately Ethan grabbed my ass, his fingers digging into my skin. He pulled me so close to his, our bodies pressing together in a way that left no room for air, no room for thought. His mouth brushed at my ear as he said "I want to fuck you right here, Norah.” His voice was a promise, a threat, a demand.

 It was a mirror of his father's cold, calculating words on that dark night. The memory, a sharp, bitter knife, sliced through my haze of fake lust. A flash of pure, unadulterated hatred shot through me. This wasn't about pleasure. This wasn't even about revenge anymore. It was about survival.

Without waiting for my answer he thrusted so quickly, a sudden, powerful force that took my breath away. A loud, shocked gasp escaped my lips, a mix of genuine pain and a raw, untamed pleasure that made my head spin. “God…. Ethan….fuck me “ I said, the words were like a desperate prayer. I grabbed his shoulder and digged my fingers in his chest as I moaned. The sound was not a performance. It was a cry from the deepest part of me, a part of me that had been buried alive for years.

Yes this wasn't part of the mission but it was still it. The initial plan had been a slow, calculated seduction, a long, drawn out game of cat and mouse. This… this was a train wreck. But it was still a part of it because I'm on to make the Malcovichs pay, whatever it will take, I don't mind. I had to let him in. I had to let him touch me, to feel me, to possess me. Because in the end, I would be the one to take everything from him. This was a sacrifice, a necessary evil, a lie I had to live to get my vengeance.

Ethan groaned as he thrust faster, his hips were like a powerful, frantic motion. The sounds of skin colliding was making it sound so pleasurable as I moaned, biting his shirt. The sound was not of a woman in love, but of a beast in a cage. He moaned so loud as he dug his fingers in my ass as he thrust so fast. The pain, the pleasure, the hatred, it was all a frantic, beautiful, and terrifying mix.

"I'm cumming baby…” he said, his voice a guttural roar, while his breath ragged. The words were a victory for him, a confirmation of his power over me. But for me, they were a sign that my mission was working. He was mine now. He was in my hands. The end was in sight.

I felt the pleasure building inside me, a wild, uncontrollable force that I had no power over. My body, a traitor, was responding to his. The world began to spin, the lights in the restroom blurring into a kaleidoscope of colors.

 My breath caught in my throat, a scream of pleasure and pain trapped inside. I said, almost like it just came out from my mouth because I was about to shut out an orgasm, “ I'm cumming too Ethan…. Arrrrrh” and that was it, hot liquid came rushing out as I dropped my head on Ethan's chest breathing heavily.

The world slowly came back into focus. The sounds of our ragged breathing, the distant music of the gala, the cold porcelain beneath me. My body was still trembling, a ghost of the frantic energy that had just consumed us. Ethan dropped his head on mine as we both held ourselves like lovers.

 His arms, that were so strong and possessive just moments ago, were now gentle, comforting. He held me close, his chest a warm, safe place to rest my head. It was a terrifying intimacy, a false moment of peace that made the hatred in my heart burn even hotter.

I heard his heart beating against my ear, a slow, steady rhythm that was a stark contrast to the frantic beat of my own. He was quiet, just holding me, and for a moment, I almost forgot why I was here. I almost forgot who he was, who his father was. But then he pulled away from the hug, looking at me as if I was his one time lost love. His gray eyes, so much like his father's, were now soft, vulnerable. The look was a dagger to my heart. 

Come on Ethan quit the stare, we weren't lovers, I thought, the anger felt like a cold, hard knot in my stomach. I was a weapon. I was not a lover.

But Ethan said immediately, his voice low and serious, "come with me Norah.”