Page 6 of Possess Me! (I Want You To)

Yes, he’d do.

Tonight wasn’t so boring after all.

Maybe the dingy hotel bathroom wasn’t the best place to jerk off, but I was horny, distressed, and more than a little tipsy, so I figured it worked just fine. It had been nearly two weeks since I’d had a moment alone like this, and the turmoil brewing inside me only amped up my need for release. My fingers blurred along my body, scratching along sensitive skin, pinching my nipples till I gasped.

I hoped if I was rough enough I could convince my body that someone else was touching me.

I was certainly drunk enough to believe the lie. To believe that I wasn’t alone. That I wasn’t lonely or sad. To believe that self-loathing wasn’t festering like disease under the surface of my skin.

The fog of my breath concealed my blurry reflection in the mirror as I braced my body against the counter. Cheek to the glass, the difference in temperature made my overheated skin burn. The unpleasant sensation was a welcome diversion—I’d accept anything that would help me forget what I’d done, and who it would hurt.

As I touched myself I missed the happy person I used to be. I missed the way I turned my petals toward the sun and opened myself up to rays of possibility. Now I was withered, and even in the privacy of my own mind, I knew I wasn’t worth the sunshine.

“C’mon Luca—” I groaned, frustrated when I couldn’t stop the poisonous thoughts that welled up inside me. Pinching my nipples harder didn’t distract my mind. It only hurt, and not in the way I craved. This wasn’t working. Even the promise of an orgasm wasn’t enough. I softened my touch, my thumb tickling across the puffy, pink abused flesh of my nipple in apology. My skin was hot to the touch, oversensitized. Somehow the gentle pressure only made me feel worse.

Disappointment tasted like battery acid on my tongue as I glared blearily at my reflection, a vicious hate bubbling up inside my chest.

Why couldn’t I stop thinking? Why couldn’t I— “Just—”

Just what?

Fuck.

Just shut up.

Shut your goddamn brain up for two fucking seconds you worthless piece of—

Touch yourself.

A voice echoed in the back of my head and I responded without thinking, desperate for anything other than the desolation of my own thoughts. This was pitiful and I was running out of time. Violet could come back any minute, and I wouldn’t be alone again till I got home to California without her. Annoyed, I abandoned the abuse of my chest, and instead let my palm rest warm and sweaty against my racing heart. There. Fuck. Yes. Finally something that didn’t make me want to peel off my own skin.

Stroke, the voice whispered, commanding, dominating, detached.

Figuring my nipples deserved a do-over, I followed the command, whimpering quietly as I thumbed hard over the already abused flesh and winced.

Softer.

Softer?

Softer.

Softer was good. Amazing actually. My cock twitched to life as I rubbed a soothing circular motion over my nipple. It pebbled beneath my touch, a jolt of pleasure causing a quiet exhale to burst from my lips.

More.

Feeling emboldened, my fingers slipped gently along my breastbone moving upward, thumb dipping into the hollow at the base of my throat. I wasn’t the most sensitive there but my nerve endings were alight with pent up energy and I was sure just a few strokes of my cock would have me spilling against the cheap laminate counter.

Maybe for once it wouldn’t be hard to get off.

I just needed to distract myself long enough to do it.

Fuck, and now I was in my own head again.

Harder.

Right. Yes. Touching.

Focus on the touching.

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