Obsession of a Man

SILENTLY, Arianna walked down the driveway from the gate towards the old rest house that seemed to tower in the darkness. It was night and only moonlight served as the guide to see her way. The surroundings are all quiet save from the noise coming from the crickets. It was a bit cold, but she could endure it, especially as nervousness and stress made her sweat in her walk from her house to here.

The noise of the crickets was not enough to drown the loud thumping of her heart. It caused her chest to painfully constrict, as if the organ in its incessant thumping was pushing against her ribs, wanting to escape. She could understand its predicament. She was trying not to think of the hell she was expecting to endure in the next hour. She had read about this, had heard the women talk about it. They gave her all sorts of advice, only to be silenced by one of them as she turned paler and paler. Before she'd left they told her to look at them. They were happy. They could feed their family. They were surviving. It would only be one night. She would get through it, and could move on with her life.

She could move on with her life. Her brother would be home. Her mother would not have to worry further. They would all be okay.

Her dress was red, a symbol of the blood that would flow if her task would be successful tonight. Her hands visibly trembled at the thought. She reached the bottom of the three marble steps and stopped for a moment. She lifted her face to look up at the house... in the window there where she felt like someone was peeking out, a pair of unknown eyes watching her progress. But it was very dark up there that she could barely see if there was even a curtain. She couldn't see if anyone was there, but she felt a presence. Her body shivered.

Arianna was sure there was someone there. A man. The one who was waiting for her.

She looked back down at the house, at the porch that seemed ominous. Then she closed her eyes and for a moment resisted the dizziness that was ready to engulf her. She couldn't get confused or scared. She couldn't afford to be a coward. She was beyond that. She had surrendered to the fact that there was no other choice. There is no other way. Just this.

She had to save his brother. This is the only way.

Hands clasping her stomach, Arianna finally moved. She climbed the stairs and went to the large and heavy double doors. She grabbed one of the brass handles and pushed it back after a squeeze. She didn't know what to expect, but when the door opened effortlessly, she knew it was the moment when she had reached the point where there was no backing down whether she changed her mind or not. There was no turning back. There was no running.

She took the first step into the house.

And screamed when strong hands pulled her into the darkness.

ENRIQUE WATCHED the woman walk from the gate toward the house. There was no hesitant step there, just sure steps, a confident sway of the hips that seemed so natural, so full of grace. He laughed softly at the description he thought of. Full of grace... yeah. So in contrast with the bloody red scrap of thin material that was her excuse for a dress.

He has to admire the woman for not wearing any cover in the cold of the night so she could taunt all that beauty. And she was beautiful... what he could see of her, at least. She had fair skin, and in contrast with the redness of the dress, she floated across the darkness. Brad did promise she was going to be a beauty. Her long hair, looking full and soft, cascaded down her breasts and her back in soft curls.

He felt heat sting his flesh when he saw in his mind his hand fingers twisting strands of her hair on the pillows as he claimed her warm body.

Enrique was surprised at himself. Then he quizzically looked at the glass of liquor he was holding. Lusting over a call girl... he had never lusted over a call girl this hard.

He'd never lusted over a call girl. Period.

So it must be the brandy.

He looked back down at the approaching woman again and felt satisfaction welling up in his chest. Well and good, for the first time in weeks, he'd felt a stirring in his loins that didn't involve Helena. After the bitch dumped him for someone richer, Enrique had been living in a swirl of shock. He couldn't believe money was the only reason why she loved him and it was also the reason why she left him. He couldn't believe that in their eight-month long relationship, she was able to hid from him that part of her. He couldn't believe that the woman he had thought to dedicate his future to was a big fake.

He couldn't believe that he, Enrique Quiroz, had been fooled but a woman. Blindsided by a fucking bitch. Didn't he swear he wouldn't be like his father?

Enrique's chest filled with bitterness and anger as he continued to watch the woman. She stopped at the bottom of the stairs. His eyes narrowed when he saw her jerk a little, as if she was reluctant. Even scared. He smiled slightly. Cynically.

Go on, run away. Be scared. It's not going to be easy for you tonight...

But she didn't run.

Instead, she looked up - and stared straight into his eyes as if she knew exactly where he was.

It wasn't only that direct stare, or the perfect beauty of her face, but the vulnerability there was like a spear that pierced his heart.

He felt it like an emotional assault that he barely managed to catch the recoild of his body. As if she dealt a physical blow to his solar plexus.

It's a trick of the light, he reasoned.

Or he was not drunk enough.

When he recovered from the shock, the woman was no longer looking up at him in the window. He sighed deeply, then wondered why he did. Then he finally drained the remaining brandy from the glass, suddenly impatient.

He was in a hurry to get downstairs. To get to her.

To take her.

And conquer her.

Another fucking daughter of Eve.

Get this over with, with gnashing teeth he commanded himself. Get this over with. Get over that... that look on her face that seem to say she was about to cry. Bitches don't really cry, they crack a laugh so pure and evil, the sound would make any self-respecting asshole cry. Get over her. Get over Helena's fucking shadow. Get over them bitches. This is for you, Helena. This is for you, mother!

He reached for the door as it opened, and the moonlight from outside exposed the shape of the woman's body at the gap. She looked so sexy. His hand reached out and he pulled her inside.

He heard a small scream. He'd shocked her. But she caught it before it got full-blown. Good. That spurred on the awakened devil in him. He pushed the door shut with one hand behind her and then pulled her towards his hard body.

He brought his hand and his fingers combed through the softness of her hair. As soon as his brain registered that it was softer than he'd imagined, he touched her chin with his other hand, then rubbed her jaw with his thumb.

It was all just a second. He couldn't wait anymore.

And he lifted her lips to his for a hot, wet kiss.

IN the assault, Arianna's brain did not even have the chance to numb itself, as she'd hoped. She was pulled inside the house, completely engulfed in the danger of uncertainty. She felt pain as his body pushed against her and her back was pinned to the back of the door he had shut noisily behind her. He was a big man, that was what she thought as his fingers grasped at her hair, then his teeth nipped at her jaw, which made her gasp.

He next assaulted her mouth, and licked her lips with a careless, wet kiss.

Arianna closed her eyes as the smell of alcohol assailed her nose. Hands went down and slid between them and cupped her breasts, and she stifled another scream. He squeezed, but not as hard as she first thought. As if he was sizing them, testing their softness, and grunted as if he was satisfied. Then one hand went down to grab a thigh to lift around his lower torso. He kissed her again at the same time and it caught her gasp as a bulging hardness, as hard as a rock, pushed at the apex of her thighs.

Naked... he... was naked under the material that her hand was grasping now, which was a silk robe. She recoiled in horror as what was about to happen to her truly struck.

My god, my god, don't be like this. Don't. Don't. No one knew where she was now. No one except Madame Venus, the one who'd sent her here. Her mother would die in despair if she knew what her only daughter was going through right now. She's sick. No. She can't find out. We still need her. She has to live.

It meant no one was going to rescue her.

She forced the cry down. She pushed the fear where it couldn't overcome her reasoning and courage. She knew she couldn't make any move that showed revulsion. She didn't know much else, but she at least knew that. I cannot refuse. I can't push him away. If she had the strength to do so. Tommy will go to jail. He can't be there. I can't let him suffer for doing something to help Mama!

I have to survive him. I have to get out of here in one piece.

The man raised his head and she was shocked to hear the bark. "Kiss me, damn it! Kiss me back! You're like a brick, whore. Kiss me! "

She stared at him, her mouth gaping. It was still too dark to see his face, thank goodness. She really did not want to see him again or recognize him anywhere. Nor did she want him to remember her. So she quickly looked down.

Then she remembered what he wanted and she winced. Kiss. She didn't know how to kiss. She hadn't even been this close to the man, that his whole body felt plastered all over her. She hadn't been with any man. What was she going to do?

She remembered what Madame Venus told her to do.

"Just be beautiful. You show flesh. Put color on your face. As he see how beautiful you are, he knew what to do, " that's what Aling Venus told her. "You don't have to work hard. Just lie down there and bear it and it will all be over. "

But there wasn't even time for bed. He was trying to do her right here behind the door!

"Damn it!"

She managed not to jump this time, but she was getting scared. What was he going to say not? What did he want?

But he sighed, stepped back and swayed a little. Her hands reached to steady her automatically, and he seemed to stop, looked down on her face quizzically. She could see a straight nose and a shadow of arched eyebrows, and strong jaws. Before she could remember not to look too closely because she was, he was pulling her into the dark interior of the house. The moonlight penetrated thin curtains in this part of the living room, and it was a spacious place.

With a gigantic sofa.

And then he was facing her again, and this time she could see intent eyes as he looked down her clothes. She shuddered as she looked up at his hooded eyes. She couldn't help it. There was tension there that made her want to run. Then he moved. For a drunk man, he was fast, and she heard the tearing of cloth. She would have screamed again but he'd claimed her lips again, his hands trying to take her dress off her upper body in almost frantic movements. Her dress fell off, as it was made to get off easily. One of the women gave it to her. In the next instant, the cups of her bra were above her breasts. She was lifted off her feet and was unceremoniously dropped on the sofa. Her breath left her chest. Bra off. Dress off. She was only in her panties.

She was getting numbed. Her hands were fists, crossing over her breasts. Inside her head was a litany of prayers to a god who seemed to have forgotten her, but she was praying still. When her father died, her grandmother was crying so hard, saying that god had forsaken them. But even when her hear was breaking, she felt it wasn't true at all. God wasn't the driver who'd gotten drunk and ran over her father on the freeway. It wasn't him who'd killed her father.

She closed her eyes and instructed herself that she would not open them again until this was over.

And she waited.

And waited.

Her skin remained exposed in the cold draft of the evening air. She remained laying there, and she heard the gasp of the man who was about to take her.

Arianna almost fainted of fear. What did she do? What did she need to do? She opened her eyes, and the man just stared at her. He was just staring down at her.

She stared back. It was lighter now in there. She could see his face. A handsome face, one that was very familiar to her.

My god.

It was Señorito Enrique!

WHEN Arianna accepted the offer to be gifted to a rich man in exchange for Tommy not to get jailed for stealing money from Madame Venus, she did not know to whom she would be given for the night. All Madame had said was a wealthy man wanted a young, beautiful woman to be given to his friend for the night, and there was no one young that could be sent, nor anyone who did not look and act like a sex worker.

"You have to help me. These are people I don't want to disappoint. He wanted me to send someone new, someone who's not worked before. Virtually a virgin! He is alright, as far as I know. I will not send you if it's not safe."

Tommy was already picked up by the police and in prison. She could barely think. If she goes home tonight without Tommy, her mother would ask and she would not stop until she finds out. And she would find out. Arianna wasn't a good liar. She couldn't imagine how it would affect her weak heart if she knew her youngest son would be sleeping inside a cell, and could possibly end up there and away from them for a long time.

There was no way she could let this happen.

So she just said 'yes.'

But even on hindsight, she could not think the man would be the only child of Don Sylverio Quirroz, the wealthy landowner who owned the plot of land where their rickety house was standing. The house itself was a property of the Guerreros. He heart throbbed even more - this house was Enrique's rest house. She had spotted Senyor Enrique several times as she grew up here, but always at the distance. She was sure he didn't even notice him, much less remember. He must not remember her after tonight.

"My God... you're so beautiful," she heard him say again. His eyes were on her, and she could only think it was lust on his face as he inspected with feverish eyes the shape of her body.

But she couldn't help it. His robe was on the floor now and he was naked. She couldn't stop her eyes from roaming at his body, hard and masculine, and everything good shape. Senyor Enrique was a very handsome man, and many women in the villa wanted him. No young woman her age wasn't daydreaming about him. And she thought herself she had never seen a man as good-looking as him. She felt confused at the pains he felt at the thought. She liked him. His father was a good man, and had been good to them even after her father died and she and her brother were too young to work in the hacienda. Her mother as sick and had always been careful in doing to heavy work, even in the house. He provided that plot for them so they could at least grow their food to eat and to sell. And when there were health drives, he made sure they were informed.

The same, they said, was the son, although he was remote and would barely stay here when he visits. But on the few times she had seen him, he didn't seem to be very friendly. Not aloof, but not talkative either to people that surrounded him. She was in a party helping with the catering during that time and was able to observe him from a distance. He was one of those people you simply couldn't take your eyes away from, and she remembered being reprimanded for staring. She made sure to serve in other parts of the grounds to avoid getting starstruck again.

And as she'd said, she had never seen any man as handsome as he was. Tall, fair, masculine body and a beautiful face for a man.

Now, standing there stark naked as he was, there was no moment ever she had imagined the man would be the first man ever to sleep with her. He was standing in such an angle that his manhood was in the shadows, but she could see enough of its shape to know he was very aroused. Her eyes were staring at that spot, her face hot, mesmerized. And when she caught herself, she frantically looked up at his face.

Their eyes met. And her cheeks grew hotter. His face looked satisfied. How could she do such a thing? Never, in all the twenty-two years of her life, had Arianna seen the naked body of a man.

"I'm glad you liked what you see."

She tried to speak, but what came out was a timid squeak, as he'd bent down by then and, drunk as he was, scrambled to lift her from the sofa.

"This is better done in bed, don't you think?"

No, her mind replied even as her hands gripped at his shoulder for fear of falling.

But it's too late.

It's been too late since she'd entered that door.

She had let herself fall on the edge of the unknown since then...