Isabela Part 4

The man I once fell madly in love with looks confused as I roughly snatch the microphone from his hand. My heart is racing like a runaway Porsche, making me feel nauseous. I have no idea what I'm doing or why I'm holding this cold, golden object, but the idea flashes through my mind like lightning, clarifying my thoughts and dancing playfully:
"Wow, I'm so glad I found my owner!" I say, trying to make my voice sound less shaky and nervous. I turn to Nate and slowly caress his cheek, ignoring how my skin always burns, itches, and boils when it touches his. I pull the microphone away, watching him widen his eyes. He seems startled, yet there's still a teasing glint in his expression. I dig my nails into the soft skin of my nightmare in human form and whisper, "You’ll pay for this," before stepping back and bringing the microphone closer to my mouth. "But I’m not just a dog for one owner; tonight, I’m putting on a performance to see if a new owner will choose me. I’m going to show just how obedient I can be, in every sense, especially the dirtiest!"
I shove the microphone into Nate's chest with such force that he stumbles back. His gaze locks onto mine as if we were shackled together. His eyes are stormy, threatening me without a word.
They chant the warning: "Don’t you dare."
But mine scream back: "Stop me."
I turn towards the white booth, the curved one lit by LED lights where the DJ stands in the right corner of the dark wooden stage.
"Play something sexy!" I shout to the chubby guy with pale skin and narrow eyes, who quickly starts blasting “Anaconda” by Luísa Sonza.
I let my braids fall loose, running my fingers through my hair to shake it free. Without wasting a second, I start to move my body. I drink from the well of courage, feasting on anger like a starving beast. I lower myself, rolling my hips slowly until I hit the floor, hearing the crowd around me scream and whistle, going wild as I kneel. I slide my hands obscenely across my breasts, not caring to lift my dress a little and flash my underwear while I sensually sway. I thrust my hips up, then lower them slowly. I bite my lips like a vixen, putting in the effort to sound seductive, even letting out a moan as I bring a finger to my lips.
I barely notice the eyes around me, but in the few I can focus on, I see desire floating. I smile and wink at Cris, who watches me wide-eyed and slack-jawed from the VIP section near the stage.
An intense heat rushes to my head. I startle as I feel a hard tug on my hair at the nape of my neck, which hurts like hell. Nate yanks me up by my hair, and I know it’s him, not just by the scent but because he’s the only bastard jealous and bold enough to do that. My eyes blaze with fury as he releases my hair, only to grip my forearm roughly and tightly.
"Play another damn song!" he growls at the DJ, his face flushed with rage, his chiseled jaw clenching. Then he pulls me out through a side exit I didn’t even know existed. I try to dig my heels into the ground, words of command for him to let me go almost spilling from my lips, but I’m so shocked by his reaction that I can’t. "So now you're a bitch, huh, Isabela?"
Nate is genuinely furious as he slams me against a wall of red bricks, plastered with various white graffiti. I don’t even know where we are in the university; I got so lost in the moment that I didn’t notice we’d moved away from the Bosque. A feeling claws at my head, like sharp talons: fear. His eyes look wild and furious. He breathes so heavily that he seems like a beast, almost breathing fire through his nostrils. I shrink back slightly, still feeling the sting from the way he grabbed my hair. But I’m too bold to cower.
Does he still not get it?
Things scare me, hurt me, but I’ve learned to react, no matter the cost, because I’m a survivor. I am who I am because I’ve become even worse than those who hurt me.
"Well, your sister called me a whore so much that I became one," I retort, but his fist explodes against the wall next to my head.
The noise of his hand hitting the wall is deafening. It echoes in my mind, amplifying, screaming warnings that Nate is not joking around. Even though I know this violent outburst is to prevent Nate from using his fists, like I used to, I’m still furious.
How can he be so mad, feeling hurt? Nate just humiliated me in front of the entire university! He even dragged me by my hair like a caveman.
"I’m going to make it clear as hell that you’re banned from any party here," he warns, staring at me intensely.
My chest aches, pounding hard as the animosity between us wounds me. Nate is truly angry. And I’m scared; that feeling crawls and tingles over my skin, but I’m too poisonous to contain myself:
"I’m single, babe. I just acted like the bitch you insist I am." I shrug. "And if I can’t go to the Bosque, I’ll find other parties. I can always find a place to drink, hunt for someone to fuck, or dance while flashing my underwear to whoever I feel like."
He steps back a little, moving in his usual nervous dance. Nate bites his lower lip so hard that I swear I can see a drop of blood trickling. Something pierces my heart, a sudden pain at seeing him hurt. He told me, when he barged into my room, that he takes it out on things, but the way he’s punching everything and wrecking his hand makes me think otherwise.
Suddenly, Nate lunges at me like a firecracker, pinning his body against mine against the wall, rubbing his hard cock against my stomach. He presses me against the wall, breathing intensely, his hot breath, smelling of vodka and cigarettes, washes over my face and ignites sensations all over my body.
The magnetic aura radiating from him sets me ablaze, making me feel like I’m burning, like my skin is being tossed into a fire. I can almost smell the smoke from the explosion of our bodies pressed together. Our gazes lock, transfixed on each other. I try to look away from the magnetism in his bright eyes, but I’m lost in their intensity, in the mix of rage and desire swirling within them.