London, 8 Kensington Palace Gardens


She felt sick. As if her little dream bubble just popped. Or somebody had just emptied a bucket of cold water on her. It was as a wake up call. Her previous passion seemed to be long forgotten. This wasn't what she wished. To be a slave to his desires. Rushing to him when he urged for relief. How could she fall under his charm so easily. What charm?! Sweat drops froze in the back of her neck. Goosebumps over her skin, disgust.

His beastly touch made her heart tear, nauseous. His aggressive jaw on her body. His firm grip on her thighs. She felt trapped, used. It didn't feel right, she didn't desire this. Her body stiffened under Harry's fingers, equal to spiders crawling on her legs. He was dominating her, overpowering, crushing her to little clouds of dust. The forceful grip squeezing hard, leaving blue spots. As meat, flesh, frozen in the cooler, ready to be cooked.

Her mouth went dry, her hands clenched. Her quick breathing as in a panic attack. Harry didn't seem to notice Amber's distress. The repugnance in her eyes nor the tenacious movements to break free. She tried to shake him off, turning her back to him. No man as him should even dare to touch her. She risked her leg out the bed, her bare foot aiming for the safe floor. Her naked body struggling to uncouple from this beast's heat.

She pushed one last time, and managed to break free. As a bird eager for freedom she jumped off the bed. Leaving the man in empty, damp sheets. Harry grabbed her wrists, looking at her with dumbfounded eyes. His mouth was hanging open, and a surprised glance written all over his face. She shook it off, without even acknowledging his astonishment she just wanted to leave this place. She hated his guts, aura, dominance. Him.

She threw her dress over her body, and strapped her heels as fast as she could. Harry didn't say a word. He seemed overthrown. This had never happened to him. Why was she running? Never a woman had fled from his bed. He silently watched as she changed. The dress fitted perfectly on her sculpted body. The toned muscles of her back, strong and strained. He could see her spine moving for a swift moment as she clipped her bra on. He couldn't believe this beautiful creature didn't want him. Amber was it? He never really bothered to remember names. He had to ask her next time, if there was going to be a next time.

To Amber everything was a blur. To her relief he didn't speak. The silent filled the room as a thick plethora. She grabbed her purse. Even the small metallic sound of her keys in her bag made her uncomfortable. She found her cellphone and quickly typed in a number to call a cab. However, she had no idea where she was and still had ask for the address. She couldn't bothered. Stay calm and act as if nothing happened. She turned around. But there he was, laying on the black modern four poster bed. Only a burgundy sheet covering his legs. She lost her eyes on his torso, abs, tattoos. He seemed to have noticed the gaze and smirked. It was enough to bring her back to her senses. With a cool voice she asked:

"- What's your address?"

It broke the heavy silence lingering in the room. He seemed surprise to hear the sound of her voice.
"- 8 Kensington Palace Gardens, but don't bother to call a cab, my chauffeur can bring you home if you wish.", he answered with a low, slight cringe voice. He was mad or confused, she couldn't tell, but she also didn't give a damn about him.

Amber couldn't believe what she just heard. She was at Kensington right now, the poshest place in London. Eleanor wasn't lying when she said these men were wealthy. She hadn't noticed when he first brought her in. She was too focused on him. She shivered only thinking of her previous state of mind. or maybe it was because she wouldn't have to pay the ride home. She tried not to smile or show him her gratitude.

"- Fine", she answered nonchalantly, "thank you.", she added with a harsh tone.

Harry didn't seem to care and just answered that Ronald would be waiting for her downstairs on the hall. Amber hurried down the wooden stairs. Perfectly waxed, the floor was covered in beige and burgundy carpets. He really loved that color, didn't he. Burgundy. She chuckled. As she waited for the driver she admired the crystal chandeliers. The light flowing in the beautiful room, brimming with elegance.

She had a long, turmoil, evening. Gave a perfect performance on stage. She had to be Odile tomorrow again. Feel her black feathers growing wings in her back. Making her tip of her fingers shiver. Then her thoughts drifted to Harry. Her emotions went from wild to disgust recalling the events. Slowly her eyelids closed and she fell asleep on the stairs.

Notes

Hi guys,

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