“Why?” he challenges, his tone just as low. “You only cry to be filled when I’m around to remind you how empty you are. That’s why you run and hide the second I look away.”
I bite my lip, battling with what to say. Because he’s right. We both know I don’twantto want him, and for reasons I can’t quite figure out yet, that pisses him off.
“You’re right,” I say, settling on the truth. I chew on my next words for a beat before deciding to just spit them out. I’ve already lost all mydignity. There’s little remaining to strip me of, anyway.
My voice dips into a whisper, sounding vulnerable when I say, “But maybe I like it when you chase me. Maybe I like to see how badly I affect you to remind myself I’m not alone in feeling this way.”
His hips slow while his eyes pick apart my expression, a seriousness smoothing over his features. Except it’s a mask on the verge of shattering, and his lust and ecstasy shine through the cracks as boldly as sunlight.
After several long seconds, a deep, amusedharrumphemits from the base of his throat. Then, he’s fucking the Fleshlight harder, and when my stomach dips, this time, it’s with disappointment. Rejection. Humiliation—again.
It’s hot and slimy, making my skin fucking crawl as he drops his gaze to the toy, poised so close above my center, his tightening balls slapping against me.
I gather vitriol on my tongue, but it only makes it as far as the tip before I'm swallowing it back down in surprise.
With a muttered curse, he grabs my legs and forces them together before pushing my knees back toward my face, locking the Fleshlight in place between my thighs.
Then, he sets a rough but steady pace, pounding into the silicone with a ferocity I've experienced only twice before. Yet, my body recalls the feeling as if I've known it my entire life.
“Dread,please!” I whine, a tear bubbling to the edge of my eyelashes as my bottom lip trembles.
With each thrust, it's becoming harder to stifle them. It hasn't been long since everything changed between us, since we went from pure hatred to a milder contempt. But this feels like it did before—cruel—and I've almost forgotten how badly it hurts.
“Fuck, you take it so fucking good,” he groans, ignoring me once again.
Growling, I try to launch my foot into his face, but he easily stops me without a single stutter in his pace. He leans his weight more onto the backs of my thighs, ensuring the Fleshlight stays firmly in place as he fucks it.
In fact, he only slams into it harder, jolting my entire body up the bed inch by inch until he's forced to quickly grab my hips and roughly drag me back toward him, resuming his position and pace.
All the while, I try to wiggle and kick out of his bruising hold, onlyto fail miserably.
He acts as if I don't exist except for when filthy words pour out of his mouth, as if he's actually fucking me.
“Oh, fuuuck,” he groans, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. The veins cording his neck down to his hands protrude, only making him so much more devastating to look at.
I've never been so turned on and so fucking humiliated at the same time. In my entire miserable existence, I think this takes the fucking cake as far as torment goes.
“I hate you!” I shout, but he only moans over my words, like I'm screaming at him from behind soundproof glass and he can't hear a thing at all.
As usual, he doesn't have any filter over the sounds pouring from his throat, vocalizing his pleasure through toe-curling grunts, moans, and whispered curses.
A low whine leaks out of me, growing exhausted from fighting him. Finally, I deflate, and my chin trembles harder.
I hate him so, so much.
Yet, I've never needed him inside me more.
Craving someone who thrives on your misery is a feeling worse than pure agony.
Especially because you can't help but invite it in when it comes back for more.
I cover my eyes with the heels of my palms, my entire body shaking with the effects of him slamming into me.
A sob bubbles up my throat, and I only just swallow it back down when I feel Dread lean his chest against the backs of my legs, spreading my calves enough to make room for his head.
Then, he grabs my wrists, pulling them away from my face. I shake my head and resist with all my might, but he easily overpowers me, wrenching them away before pinning them above my head with one hand.
He says nothing as he continues to fuck the Fleshlight. Instead, he leans down farther and catches a stray tear on the tip of his tongue before gliding it up my cheek.
