Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 88305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
But now that it happened, I don’t think I’d want it any other way.
Something changed that night.
Sebastian and I passed the point of no return and now, it’s just a huge clusterfuck.
It would’ve been different if he’d forced me. I would’ve reported him and started an uproar in our town. I would’ve gone against him and his political ties, even if it meant destroying myself in the process.
But that’s not the case.
He gave me a choice and a way out. One I could’ve taken before he fucked me on those stairs. One where I could’ve ended the chase before it even started.
But I didn’t.
I was too addicted to the thrill and like any addict, I burned for more.
For a redo.
For the next level.
I got what I asked for and more.
He didn’t hold back, didn’t take it easy, and I found myself slammed into a brutal alternate reality.
One I’ve been thinking about since it ended.
One I’ve dreamt about every time I’ve closed my eyes.
I thought he’d disappear and ignore me now that he got what he wanted, but he texted me yesterday.
Sebastian: You sure you don’t want my opinion on the sketch?
I stared at my phone for a solid five minutes, trying to figure out what the hell was he getting at. He couldn’t possibly be picking up where we left off in our conversation before he broke into my house and fucked me like I’m a whore.
His whore.
But I confirmed that’s exactly what he was doing when the second text came.
Sebastian: Heads-up. I’m your number one fan, so don’t forget about me if you become a manga artist.
My blood ran cold at how he was blatantly not addressing what happened.
How could he?
How was he able to move past it so easily?
I’m nowhere near that stage, considering how much I’ve been obsessing about it.
And Sebastian is the one I wanted to talk to the most. I couldn’t actually tell Mom or call Lucy and say, “Umm…hi. I got raped and I liked it.” Or sort of raped or whatever.
Either way, he’s the only person I could broach the subject with. And yet, he acted as if nothing happened. So I bit the bloodied bullet and replied with the same tone I used in that exchange.
Naomi: Who told you I want you as a fan?
Sebastian: Too bad you don’t get to choose who your fans are. One day, you’ll be having a signing and I’ll show up with a copy of your work and kiss you in front of all your other fans. They’ll probably cause a ruckus and I’ll tell them it’s the perks of being your number one.
Naomi: As if I’ll let you kiss me.
Sebastian: You won’t have a choice.
Naomi: I’ll ban you and ask security to escort you out.
Sebastian: That won’t stop me, baby. I’ll always find a way back in.
My heart still skips a beat whenever I think about his words.
The fact that I don’t have a choice. That he’ll always find a way back in. Was he playing a sick mind game with me? Either that or I’m really losing it.
Maybe none of what happened over the weekend is real. Maybe I watch too much violent stuff.
But I can still feel the soreness between my legs. I’ve had it for days, despite the baths and reading online tutorials about how to relieve it.
That first night, I had to literally crawl and then wash away the blood from between my legs, so that couldn’t have been a hallucination or a visceral dream.
I’ve felt the loss of what I considered my…secret.
Yes. I was a twenty-one-year-old virgin with trust issues, because I would rather have died than let a man be as physically close to me as that scum was eleven years ago.
But it was different with Sebastian.
Maybe because I had the choice, but not really. Maybe because he tore through me and took what he wanted while giving me what I needed.
Or maybe, just maybe, it’s because my busy brain didn’t get to function.
Because even if I said no, he didn’t stop. When I begged, he fucked me harder. When I cried, he took more.
The only way to end it was if I brought us back to reality.
But I didn’t.
Reality sucks.
“Hey, Nao.”
I force myself to focus on Lucy again as we pass chattering students scattering through in the cafeteria. “Yeah?”
She bites her lower lip, her teeth digging into the flesh. “I want to tell you something, but I don’t have proof.”
“Something about what?”
She casts a glance sideways, her freckles darkening with the reddening of her cheeks. “It’s about…”
“Lucy!”
I internally cringe at Brianna’s screeching voice. She snaps her fingers at my friend from her position across the room and beckons her over.
There’s nothing I want more than to go to her and break her wrist for calling my friend as if she’s her dog.