Drive me Wild, Rival(BL)

Alaric

He had done it again. Running off as if he was afraid of something. 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

What the hell was it? Was it the sight of me after sex? Did he truly despise it that much? I tried so hard to figure out what was happening, racking my brain for any logical reason why he acted like this, but I couldn’t understand his reasons for always running off the absolute second he got his release.

It was becoming a pattern, a humiliating routine that left me raw in more ways than one.

I heaved a deep, exhausted sigh as I remained slumped on the cushions of the couch, unable to move.

The first time it happened, during our Maldives trip, I hadn’t questioned it. Back then, our intimacy level hadn’t reached this volatile, explosive point.

But right now, it felt entirely different. It felt like he was running away from something real, something terrifying or maybe he was running away from the very sight of me.

I let out a sharp, painful groan as I finally struggled to rise from where I knelt. My lower back throbbed with a dull, persistent ache, and my ass felt incredibly sore, reminding me of the dominance he had just forced upon me.

’’That damn beast,’’ I cursed silently, my jaw clenching as a hot wave of humiliation washed over me.

This was never going to happen again. I had to put a stop to it, to make sure there was a boundary he couldn’t cross.

The way Nico handled the aftermath made it seem like I was some shameful, dirt-cheap whore he had to hide from the world—and from himself—every single time he bolted. He always left me all alone to clean up the mess, left to deal with the cold air hitting my slick, ruined skin in an empty room.

It was degrading, and what Upsets me the most was that I had let him do it.

"Gaaah," I groaned aloud, forcing my trembling legs to steady beneath me as I limped toward my phone across the room.

It had started ringing yet again, its persistent vibration buzzing against the hard floor.

The screen was completely shattered into a spiderweb of cracked glass, entirely thanks to an aggressive Nico who couldn’t bear the sound of a distraction while he was inside me.

Fortunately, the LCD wasn’t completely dead. I could still scroll through the bleeding pixels, and the flashing name on the caller ID told me exactly who had been trying to reach me over and over again.

It was Dorothy.

I picked up the device, clearing my throat roughly. I tried to swallow down the lingering tightness in my throat, attempting to sound as pathetic and genuinely sick as possible to cover up the raspy, breathy undertones of my post-sex voice.

"Hello, Doro," I sniffled, putting on an act, pretending to shake with a sudden, debilitating fever.

"Oh my goodness! Alaric, I thought something terrible had happened to you!" Dorothy’s frantic, worried voice Sounded from the speaker. "I managed to get the specific medicine you asked for, and I am almost at your penthouse door."

I rolled my eyes at her dramatic tone, but my breath instantly hitched the moment I heard heavy, deliberate footsteps heading back toward the living room. I looked up, the phone still pressed to my ear, to see Nico walking through the archway.

He was standing there, completely put together.

Fully dressed.

At first, a naive part of my brain wondered how the hell he had managed to get ready so incredibly fast. But then, the cold, sickening truth hit me like a physical blow.

He hadn’t gotten ready. He hadn’t needed to.

Because he had never taken off his clothes in the first place. He had never unbuttoned his shirt, never shed his jacket, never exposed an inch of his upper body to me. He had only unzipped his pants, brought out his heavy, throbbing cock, and used me until he was on the verge of breaking.

With a sickening, hollow jolt in my chest, a flood of memories came rushing back. Ever since the two of us had started sleeping together, Nico had never allowed me to touch him where I wanted to. He never let my hands wander beneath his layers. It was always a strict, unyielding rule, whether he realized he was doing it or not.

It was either he was fully clothed—just like he was right now, looking untouched—or he was actively, aggressively making sure my hands didn’t go anywhere near his chest.

Was he truly that repulsed by the sight of me? Was touching me acceptable, but being touched by me something he found completely intolerable?

"Hello? Alaric? I asked if you are alright?" Dorothy’s voice barked through the phone again, snapping me out of the suffocating, dark spiral of my thoughts.

"Yes... yes, I am alright, Doro. I’m just a bit weak," I mumbled quickly, my eyes locked on Nico’s stoic face. "I will be waiting for you. The door should be unlocked."

I ended the call before she could question me further, letting my hand drop to my side.

I faced Nico fully.

For a long, agonizing moment, neither of us spoke a word. The living room was filled with nothing but a suffocating, heavy silence that felt thick enough to cut with a knife.

The contrast between us was loud and humiliating. He stood there perfectly put together, a dominant figure completely in control of his environment, while I stood there stark naked, shivering slightly from the sudden drop in temperature, covered in the slick evidence of what he had just done to me.

I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to voice the burning questions demanding to be let out of my chest. I wanted to know why he always walked away from me, why he treated our intimacy like a crime scene he needed to flee. But nothing came out of my lips.

My pride tied my tongue in knots, and all I could do was stare at him through glassy, tired eyes.

After all, this was just sex anyways.

We just kept staring at each other.

Finally, the silence became too heavy to bear, and I forced myself to break it. "So... you are, uhm, leaving?"

My voice shook terribly on the last word. It made me sound weak. It made it sound like I was desperately sad to see him go, like a lonely clingy mess begging for him to stay.

Nico’s lips twitched, a familiar, arrogant smirk slowly crossing his handsome features. "What is it, princess?" he drawled, his voice smooth and entirely unaffected. "Are you afraid that you’ll miss me when I am not here?"

He was making jokes again. Deflecting.

Pretending that everything was perfectly fine, perfectly normal between us when the reality was that it was completely falling apart beneath our feet. He was treating a deeply confusing, insulting moment like a casual locker-room tease.

"You..." I started, my fists clenching at my sides.

Why couldn’t I say it?

"I better run off now," Nico cut me off smoothly, casually checking the watch on his wrist as if he hadn’t just violently railed me into the cushions minutes prior. "I got a call while I was in the bathroom. My lead engineer wants me to come down to the garage and check out something with the car’s setup before the transport logs are finalized."

"Oh!" I emphasized the word, letting out a sharp, breathless sound that was half a laugh and half a sob.

I just stared at him, my eyes hardening into icy daggers. A call in the bathroom? The phone he had thrown across the room was the only one that had been ringing, and it was currently sitting in the corner with a shattered screen.

He was lying.

"Goodnight, Alaric. See you in Saudi Arabia," he said quietly, his tone dropping into something strangely soft for a second.

But before I could even process the shift, or ask a single follow-up question to dismantle his pathetic excuse, he turned on his heel. He rushed out the door as if he was being chased by a ghiost.

Alaric.

He almost never called me by my actual name. It was always princess, always some mocking nickname meant to keep me at arm’s length, meant to remind me of our rivalry. The fact that he had just used my real name meant only one thing: he was deeply unsettled, and he was lying through his teeth to escape as fast as his legs could carry him.

"Oh, you are so stupid, Alaric. You are so incredibly stupid," I groaned aloud, the anger draining out of me and leaving behind a hollow, aching void.

I buried my face in my hands, my fingers digging into my skin as I rubbed my throbbing forehead, trying to wipe away the phantom sensation of his lips, his breath, his touch. "You let that man dominate you over and over again, and for what? For this?"

I felt pathetic. I was a top-tier driver, a fierce competitor who feared no one on the asphalt, yet in this room, I was entirely at Nico’s mercy.

If only Harold were here right now, I thought bitterly. If only he were sitting on the adjacent armchair, tossing a sarcastic comment my way. I would have confided in him. I would have confessed everything, even though he would probably just make fun of my misery and tell me I was being an idiot for falling into such a toxic trap. At least his teasing would feel real. At least it would give me some semblance of comfort.

"Just where the hell are you, Harold?" I whispered to the empty room, a heavy, suffocating ache settling deep into my chest as I looked around the desolate penthouse. "I refuse to believe you are not real. Please... don’t tell me I’m entirely alone in this."