EroticReverie

Anastasia …Two days later 

I’m in the kitchen fixing myself dinner after my two extra hours of practice in the studio when Alisa walks in and drops her keys onto the hook inside the door and walks into the kitchen. 

Saint had spent the entire weekend here, and I’d woke up this morning to him gone. Classes and rehearsal and my extra two hours afterwards were a pain to get through. Due to the fact I was exhausted both mentally and physically. I’d spent the entire weekend trying to reason with my stalker. Spent the entire weekend fighting him and also letting him have his way with me. An entire weekend of giving into impulses that I knew I was better off denying. But couldn’t. I was even more confused about my own thoughts and desires than I was before. And ontop of dealing with my mental state, I was dealing with the fact my body had been used beyond what I would have thought I was capable of withstanding. My pussy still aches from the relentless “love making” all weekend. 

“Heard you have a boyfriend.” Alisa says as she picks a piece of romaine lettuce out of the bowl where I’ve started to make my salad. 

“I…” I start to deny it. But I’d told Ben I had a boyfriend that night. 

“It’s. New.” I say and internally grumble. Knowing the motherfucker is probably watching me right now and listening and smiling like the fucking crazy bastard that he is. He was NOT my boyfriend. But it was easier to call him my boyfriend than say “oh yeah. He’s actually my Stalker and raped me while telling me he’s just making love to me oh and guess what? Miles? Our dead teacher? He killed him. Oh, AND he pushed a girl down a flight of stairs for me. Isn’t that romantic?” I roll my eyes to myself. 

“Heard he almost made Ben piss himself” Alisa laughs and I don’t say anything , instead I just shrug. Alisa and I were roommates. Not friends. This is the most she’s talked to me in weeks. And I have no idea why she has an interest in my fucking “love” life. 

“He’s. Protective.” I say. God. Was I defending Saint? Ben was a nice enough guy, but the way he acted when I was drunk was out of line. Even if he was drunk too. I’d already told him no. But he didn’t want to take no for answer. Okay, so maybe he’s not a nice guy.  

“Hmmm, that’s hot” she says and then plucks another piece of lettuce from my bowl and I sigh. 

“Do you want me to make you a salad?” I ask. 

“No thanks” she says and plucks another piece and I grit my teeth. 

“Can you NOT put your fingers in my food?” I say and she huffs. 

“Geeze what’s crawled up YOUR ass Annie?” 

“My name is not Annie. For the last time.” I say and she silently chews. And I can hear the crunch of the lettuce. 

“Oooookay then.” She says and then walks to the fridge. 

“So when do I get to meet this big ass boyfriend of yours?” She asks

Why the hell did she need to meet him? Or even want to? And why was it pissing me off that she was interested in meeting him? 

“Don’t know.” I say and then slip the knife into the sink and then grab the kalamta olives and plate of grilled chicken I already cut up and slide it into the salad bowl ontop of the lettuce. 

“If he’s going to be in our apartment, I should be able to meet him Annie” she says. 

I spin around and glare at her. 

“What?” She asks as she pops a cherry tomato into her mouth. 

“My name is Anastasia. Not. Annie. Stop. Calling.  Me.  Annie.” I growl and imagine Saint pushing Alisa down a flight of stairs. That intrusive thought startles the fuck out of me. 

“It’s just a habit” she says and rolls her eyes as if my NAME , is up for debate. 

“Well maybe it’s one you should break. Considering it’s not my fucking name.” I say through clenched teeth. She cocks a brow. 

“Geeze okay. ANASTASIA.” She bites out with attitude and I open my mouth to say something. I don’t even know what. When a loud knock hits the door. Somehow I already know it’s him. 

“Got it!” Alisa slaps her hands together and wipes them on each other and I close my eyes and take a deep breath as she walks around the corner to the door and opens it without even asking who’s there. 

“Oh. Oh wow” I hear her say. 

“You must be the boyfriend.” She says. 

Saint doesn’t even say anything but a second later I look to him as he stands there towering in the arch of the kitchen. I swallow hard. He’s angry. At me? I don’t know. I look to my salad. Did he think I wasn’t eating enough today? Did I need to put more protein in my salad? Fuck. His glare has me on eggshells. 

“H-hi” I say. I wasn’t expecting to see him again. I was expecting him to got another few weekend before showing his face. 

“I’m Alisa, Annie’s roommate” Alisa says and my annoyance is nothing compared to the way I feel Saints vibrate off of him. 

He turns to Alisa who stands near his side and smiles holding out her hand. 

“Hi Lisa, my name is Saint.” He says and doesn’t lift his hand to hers. He just looks at it. Like he’s about to rip it off her arm. 

“Oh”Alisa laughs. “It’s actually A-Lisa. Alisa.” She says. 

Saint shrugs. And Alisa eyes him up and down as he walks over to me. I just look up at him. 

Then I suck in a breath as he lifts his hand and brings behind my head and grabs the tight bun on my head and angles my head back and brings his mouth to mine. Tension I’ve felt all day, disappears. The ache between my legs ignites into more that just soreness, but need and want. And god , fuck, what was I doing allowing myself to want him?

A soft low groan rumbles on my lips from Saints as he parts my mouth with his tongue and sweeps it inside. I mewl. 

“So you’re my girls new boy toy?” Alisa chirps as Saint nips my lips and smirks at me as I stare up at him in a daze as he retreats from my mouth. 

She either doesn’t take social clues well or is too self centered to care about anything but herself. I’m guessing the latter. Because she keeps talking and walks over and I watch as she reaches for the salad bowl. I inhale as Saints hand reaches or first and grabs it off the counter. He nods to the small table. 

“Sit.” He says and I nod and swallow. I walk over to the table and Alisa is pouting as Saint walks MY food over to me and places it in front of me. Then turns and walks back into the kitchen. I watch him open the drawer where our silverware is. Listen to the metal clink and he frowns as he searches the drawer. I know there’s plenty of forks in there. All mismatched. 

He turns his head. 

“So how did you two meet?” Alisa asks. Saint plucks a dirty fork out of the sink and turns on the faucet and grabs soap and a dishrag. What is he doing? 

“On the street.” Saint says , lying to her. But I don’t care. 

“Oh, cute.” Alisa says and then Saint rinses the fork and walks over to me and sets it down. 

I blink down at my favorite fork. The one I always choose when I eat my food. I’ll settle for another if it’s not clean. But this man just washed it, because he knows it’s the one I like best. It should be unnerving knowing he watches me THAT much. And it is. But it’s also sweet in the most fucked up way how he knows so much about me from fucking stalking me. Again, what the hell is wrong with me?

He winks at me when I look at him dumbstruck. 

He walks back to the kitchen and opens the fridge. He pulls out my salad dressing. Then grabs my favorite glass from the cabinet and fills it just so with ice.  Not too much. Just the way I like it. Then he fills it with the pitcher of water on the counter that I was letting run through the filter and bring my glass and dressing over to the table. 

“You need anything else babe?” He asks me and I just blink as he grins at me. I shake my head. 

He pulls out the other chair and sits down. Alisa walks herself around the little kitchen counter and leans against it as she keeps talking. I blush as Saint watches me. While also peering to her at our side. His eyes watching her grabby lettuce thief hands. Ready to fucking strike if she tries to steal my food again. 

“So, how serious are you two?” Alisa says. 

“Not-“ I start to speak but he wins. Beating me to it. 

“Very serious.” Saint says and Alisa hums. 

My eyes meet his and I roll mine and shut up as I let him answer her questions and I fork my first bite of food into my mouth. 

“We should double date! Oh that would be so much fun!” Alisa claps her hands together. 

“Annie we should go to the-“

“Her name is Anastasia.” Saints voice is calm, but his eyes. Are not. 

He looks to Alisa. 

“Call her that again and-“

“Saint” I squeak around a mouth full of lettuce and olive. 

He pauses and looks at me and I let my eyes widen and shake my head as I close my mouth and gulp down the half chewed food. 

His jaw ticks. 

“Don’t call her Annie. Ever again.” He says and looks to Alisa. Who looks like she’s about to piss all over the floor. Good.

“It’s…it’s just what I call her”

“Not anymore” Saint glares harder at her. “Do I make myself clear?”

Oh fuck. I lick my lips and clear them of Caesar dressing as I watch Alisa nod. 

“Yes” she says like a scolded child. 

“We won’t be double dating.” He says and Alisa frowns. 

“Why not?” She asks and Saint is growing more annoyed with her by the second. 

“Because I don’t trust you not to finger fuck my meal at the table.” He growls and I nearly choke. 

“I…what?” Alisa laughs nervously. 

“You heard me. Don’t put your fingers in peoples food.” He says and I just sit there. Favorite fork in hand and want to yell at him. Because he wasn’t HERE when she was picking in my food. She doesn’t know that he watches me. From wherever those god damn cameras are. But she’s too scared of him to even realize. 

“Oh” Alisa laughs. “Sorry Annie- Anastasia!” She corrects herself and I can tell she’s holding her breath as Saint stares daggers at her. 

“Well, um okay, n-nice meeting you” Alisa says and Saint says nothing. He’s looking at me. And nods at my salad. 

“Eat.” He says as she leaves the room without another peep and I hear her bedroom door shut. And the lock click. 

“You could have been nicer to her.” I whisper in her.

“Why would I be nice to her? I don’t like her.” He says and I roll my eyes. 

“And if she calls you that again or puts her fingers in your food or does anything I don’t like I’ll-“

“Saint!” I whisper yell. “Calm the fuck down. It’s just a salad.” 

He grumbles and looks at me. 

“It’s not about the fucking salad.” HE says and looks at me. As if someone picking from my food is grounds for him to be crazy and do something like fucking kill her for it. 

“It’s about YOU Little Ballerina” he says and leans over the table and I swallow hard as my heart races. 

“I don’t like the walks all over you. And if she does it again-“

“Stop” I say on a hard exhale. “Just stop threatening people.” I whisper yell. 

“Then they need to stop pissing me off.” He grumbles and I shake my head. 

“Eat your food, so I can take you to bed and make love to you.” He says and I almost drop my fork. 

“I’m sore” I whisper. 

“Did I ask if you were sore?” He asks and I gulp again and shake my head. 

“Fucking eat. Or I’ll show you what sore is.” He threatens and exhale shakily. 

“Hurry the fuck up. I’ve been hard all god damn day for you Little Ballerina”