I forget all about sipping my whisky as she continues to work late into the night. My full attention is harnessed by her vision of what we shared on our date this evening.
The white railing that surrounds the rooftop is barely visible, a subtle frame at the bottom of the painting. Two hands areentwined atop it, and I recognize the familiar shape of her slender fingers beneath my own.
She might’ve run from our kiss, but Abigail is clearly still thinking about the allure of our physical connection.
By the time she sets her paintbrush down for the night, I’m buzzing with a strange high—it’s definitely not from the alcohol I barely touched.
When she disappears into her tiny bedroom, I briefly consider relocating to my larger, more expensive house across town. But I’m craving to be close to her, so I choose to stay in the ramshackle property I bought just so I can watch over her.
I pass her landscapes as I walk through the entry hall and living room. There’s nearly a score more in my bedroom—a cramped space that barely fits the high-quality king-size bed. This place might be rundown, but it doesn’t mean I have to be uncomfortable.
I fall back onto the Egyptian cotton sheets and stare at my trophies: the precious paintings I’ve purchased from the tourists who bought them from her in the market. I keep her stormiest works in my bedroom. It’s the only glimpse at her inner darkness that’s evident in her otherwise lovely art depicting the natural world.
My cock is still hard from watching her toy with that damn paintbrush all night.
I should let her sleep, but I’m too selfish to hesitate. I want her, and she will meet my needs.
I pick up my phone and navigate to Eroticlit, immediately finding our months’ long private messaging thread.
GentAnon
Wake up, little dove. I have need of my pretty pet.
The tick beside her screenname remains stubbornly gray.
I give her five minutes to see that I’ve messaged her.
My gut twists into knots, and my chest heats.
GentAnon
Answer me. Your silence is rude, and rudeness will be punished.
A green tick mark. Three bouncing dots.
They disappear, then appear again.
And again.
My fingers are tight enough that my knuckles are white around the phone.
CagedBird
I’m sorry. I can’t tonight.
I taste copper on my tongue, and I realize I gnashed my teeth hard enough to cut the inside of my cheek.
I’ve been frustrated by her refusals and rejections over the last several days. Even though she clearly enjoyed our date this evening, she still ran away from me at the end.
I won’t tolerate her evasiveness. When we’re in this virtual space, sharing the darkest parts of ourselves, I don’t have to wear my charming mask.
GentAnon
You can try to run, but I will chase. I will capture you, little dove. And then you’ll be sorry that you tried to deny me.
Those fucking dots bounce on my screen again. My fist is a vise around the phone.
CagedBird
