The heat between my legs increased, my hips moving, finding the rhythm needed to guide me toward the promise of pleasure.
His grip on my hand tightened, and he guided my finger lower, letting it prod against my entrance. My back arched, and I closed my eyes for a second, my mind relaxing as every muscle in my body tensed.
“Jesus, you look fucking beautiful right now.”
I pressed harder, drawing circles faster, my arousal coating my hand as the need for release grew stronger.
“Make yourself come, baby. Take your own pleasure.”
It started at the back of my neck, slowly trickling down my spine and settling in my core.
“There you go. Make it feel good.” He let go of my hand, and I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. I was almost there, two breaths away from erupting.
“Ink, I need you.”
“No. This is all you, baby.”
I shook my head, opening my eyes. “Please. I need you to fall with me.”
With hooded eyes and dark irises, there was no mistaking his desire. His need. But he was so determined to make this all about me, he would put his own desires aside so I could get through this. But I needed him to need me. I needed him to want me, to make me feel less broken.
I sat up and reached for him, pulling him down to me. As I settled back, he nestled his hips between my legs, his hard shaft pressing against my sex. Our lips collided, and I could feel his need flow from his kiss, his hunger exposed by the way his tongue lapped against mine.
The heat that spread from his body to mine felt exquisite, skin against skin. It was better than I ever could have imagined.
He placed his forehead against mine, taking rapid breaths, and reached down between us. “I need you to be sure.”
I laced my fingers at the back of his neck. “I’m sure.”
He eased forward, slow and unrushed, guiding his cock to my entrance, and I held my breath.
“Keep your eyes on mine,” he urged, and I did. I didn’t look away.
He pushed deeper into me, his hips flexing, his jaw clenched, trying to restrain himself from losing control. The moment he thrust all the way inside me, I closed my eyes for a single moment, the connection severed. My mind snatched me away, pulling me back—so far back, to the white room. To the pain. The humiliation. The godawful grunts of savages, my body torn to shreds.
There was so much blood, the crimson settling into the grout of the tiles beneath me.
The blood, it’s everywhere. Mine. It’s my blood. My tears.
Laughs. Animalistic sounds. Demons screaming. My body filled to the brim, torn from the inside with filthy cocks and evil intentions.
I can hear the screams. The screams of terror. They’re mine. My screams ripping through vertebrae, breaking my spine in half.
I can’t move. The iron hooks pierced through my back makes it impossible to move.
It burns, and I’ll soon be nothing but ash.
More laughter. More lustful grunts and malignant moans. It’s infecting. Killing me.
Let me die.
Let me die.
Let me die.
God, please.
“Neon.”