Preordained #ProjectNigeria

61- Teaser

Nwanyieze's POV~

"What are you doing? Won't you get dressed?"

I don't reply. I just stare at myself in the mirror, studying my own reflection, turning my face this way and that to see my angles. The girl in the mirror watches me through half-closed eyes topped with metallic blue eyeshadow, sharply winged eyeliner and long lash extensions. Her red-lacquered lips show no hint of a smile.

"Beautiful," he says behind me as he comes to stand close to me. His voice is smooth and deep, reminding me of black coffee, the type that leaves dregs at the bottom of the cup after the liquid has been drained.

I still say nothing when he wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me closer so my backside rests against his thighs. Dressed in a charcoal-grey three piece suit, he looks dashing. His single diamond stud catches my eye, glinting under the bright lights from the massive chandelier above.

He brings his face closer to the side of my neck, and inhales deeply. The movement of the air around my sensitive skin causes the hairs at my nape to stand up.

"Oh, little miss silence has missed my touch, hasn't she?" He questions, planting a kiss on my skin. His free hand rises to play with my curls, curls that I have had the opportunity to surrender to the most exclusive natural hair stylists in the country.

I struggle against him to show disapproval, my eyes on his reflection. But he doesn't budge.

"That feels delicious, my little queen. Carry on, and I might take this suit off...and we both know you won't beg me to stop."

I gasp. The way he talks to me, it shocks me but awakens something deep inside me. I can't explain it, but I know it's not right.

I've been sucked into his madness, and each day it's more difficult to resist.

"I have a present for you."

"Another diamond bracelet?" I finally speak. My voice shows him that I am not the least bit excited. "Or maybe a new phone? Peruvian hair?"

"Something better."

I make a small sound, a dismissal. It seems to annoy him, because his arm tightens around my waist, grinding me against him. I roll my hips and hear him hiss through his teeth, watch the lust darken his light brown eyes and his jaw muscles clench and unclench.

"You were saying?" I remind him. Sometimes I enjoy the power I have over him; when I can't make him think straight; when my actions and inactions render him speechless even with the endless words he is holding in; when I watch him try to make me feel better, knowing that he will fail.

He always fails. And it pleases me immensely.

He produces a glittery piece of jewellery and proceeds to fasten it around my neck.

"A diamond choker. Nice."

My lack of gratitude does not go unnoticed. He looks like he wants to say something, but thinks the better of it. Disengaging myself, I leave him there at the full length mirror and saunter away in my six-inch red bottom heels.

"Stop," he commands.

I turn back to face him, my legs apart, hands on my hips, face giving nothing away. His eyes are suddenly sad, and I can tell he has a lot to say but doesn't know how to express it. He looks at me from head to toe, drinking in the image, a manifestation of his fantasies...so close and yet so far...

"Red lace doesn't do you justice, Queen."

I raise a brow at him, smirk, and say, "I know, and it's not just red lace."

A/N: I am working on the next chapter! This one is for the low-key Saheed fans. Can someone gist us what is going on here? Don't come for me abeg! *runs into bush*

Update: the first comment says it all; I am in big trouble *laughs in shock*