Hailey’s a bad drug. The kind of high that fucks me up so bad I’m tripping. Paranoia, cold sweats, tremors... I’m not far from crumbling under the mayhem. She leaves me teetering on the edge of sanity, threatening to shatter my psyche.
It’s like my mind’s not mine anymore. The correct thoughts are there, but they hold zero leverage over my actions.
And the irony?
Once the dizzying rush disappears, once she’s not within my reach, I crave another hit like a drowning man craves air.
???
When I wake up bright and early, Hailey’s not in the same position she fell asleep in. Instead of sprawling over my chest with her lips almost kissing the crook of my neck,myface is inher hair, arms tightly around her, her feet between my thighs... a big spoon to her small.
She was calm all night. I dreaded a panic attack, like the one I witnessed in her room, but nothing happened. Not a hint of a nightmare. Not one whimper.
She feels safe with me...
Silly girl. I’m worse than her nightmares. I’m a plague infesting her life and using her vulnerability. I’m a monster in her closet. One she can’t run away from.
One she doesn’t know exists.
My pulse accelerates as I let myself feel every inch of her soft warmth against my skin. I feel trapped even thoughshe’s inmyarms. I can move away. I’m physically capable. Nothing’s holding me here, but I don’t move.
Of course I don’t. I spread my fingers over her belly, molding her further into me.
Bad fucking drug.
The outline of her ass pressing into my groin amplifies my raging hard-on. My imagination runs wild as I picture brushing her hair away to uncover her neck. My teeth grazing the soft flesh, the hem of her tee rolling up over her ass. My hand covering her mouth and muffling her moans so she doesn’t wake the whole fucking floor. My cock springing free from my boxers and thrusting inside her in this exact position. My other hand moving her leg back, opening her up to give me easy access to play her clit.
Fuck, I want her under me, face down, my arms flush with hers, holding her still, caged.
I inhale, filling my lungs with her scent, barely stopping myself grinding into her. In the next breath I jerk away, almost leaping out of bed.
My skin tingles where her warmth was pressed against me, replaced by an unpleasant chill. Balling my fists, I enter the bathroom, putting some much-needed distance between us.
I turn the shower, stripping off my boxers, my cock like a metal pole as scorching hot water patters my tense muscles.
I was mellow a moment ago. Now, it feels like Hailey has a lasso snared around my middle and she’s roping me in inch by inch. I fight it but this girl has supernatural strength.
Eyes closed, I brace against the off-white tiles, and wrap my fingers around my shaft. For one fleeting second, I stay still, reconsidering... and then I pump hard. Angry, almost painful strokes. The orgasm builds at the base of my spine faster than ever before. When I’m about to blow, I stop.
Punishment for the weakness Hailey ignites.
This is detox.
I start again, determined to rewire my brain with slow, measured precision as I fist my cock, jerking up and down while twisting my wrist around the head.
The pure ecstasy painting Hailey’s face last night comes back to taunt me and I almost fucking lose it.
I yank my hand away, my cock twitching, throbbing, so close to a release I won’t indulge in.
Punishment for veering off course.
Steam clouds the bathroom, hanging thickly in the air. I barely see the tiles right in front of my face. Hot water pools at my feet, every inch of my skin burning from the temperature and burning forher.
I fist my cock again, fucking my hand like I want to fuck Hailey’s pussy, ass, mouth. Every jerk of my hips almost sends me over, but I grit my teeth, stop, and repeat the torture, imaginingshe’s the one driving me this feral. Thatshe’s the one denying me sweet release.
Punishment for craving another hit.
From the top. Five, ten, fifteen denied orgasms. My body’s exhausted, my balls so full they’re painful, my cock so swollen every touch drives me insane. I don’t know how long I’m at it. The pads of my fingers are water-wrinkled when I grasp the base again, squeezing hard as I stroke faster and faster, shaking harder the closer I get.
