Page 20 of Vile Boys

Anger coils around my heart, suffocating its happiness until my smile is replaced by a grimace. I grasp the faucet and turn up the heat, burning my skin with the scalding water. But the pain is nothing compared to the hatred I feel.

I’ve never felt anything like it before.

It’s not just because of the way he touched me, but that he actually made me want it.

I can still feel him down there, between my legs, circling around, almost making me combust. And then he stopped.

Leaving me wanting to finish the job right here, right now.

I grumble in frustration and turn the faucet to the other side, icing my back. The hot-to-cold change causes me to hiss, but I have to do something to get rid of this feeling, this need to both strangle a person and have their hands all over me.

God.

He called himself a god.

Who even does that?

And why did it arouse me?

I grab the soap and start scrubbing it into my body to rid myself of his marks, but no matter how hard I brush the soap into my skin, I can’t get rid of the marks he left on my mind.

Fuck him.

I rarely swear, but he makes me want to curse at the top of my lungs.

Because after all this, all this hot and cold water, this soap, all this time, I can still feel the pleasure I felt when his fingers were on me as though it’s still happening.

I turn off the faucet and step out to dry myself off, then put on a long-sleeved nightgown I brought with me.

I have to do something about this. Make it stop so I can focus on more important things.

Grumbling, I march to my window and close the curtains, then throw myself onto my bed and cover my face with my pillow, screaming into the void. I’m going insane.

Insane with anger.

Insane with a lust I don’t want.

Insane with the idea of bringing my own fingers down my body until I can feel the thrumming of my heart right down there between my legs.

Caleb

When I turnto look again, there she is, lying in her bed like a porcelain doll.

Her curtains are closed, but a small sliver remains open. Enough for me to peek through. She’s wearing a long-sleeved black nightgown, but her neck and legs are still exposed.

Her hands start to touch her breasts, and I’m completely mesmerized. My lips slowly part as she squeezes and tightens her own nipples right through the fabric.

I’m rarely affected by women, yet …

I instantly harden.

Her hand slips down her nightgown, all the way between her legs, and when she rubs herself, I suck in a breath.

She’s touching herself right in front of me, and she doesn’t even realize she’s being watched.

A slow, decrepit smirk spreads on my lips as my tongue darts out to wet them while my pants get tighter and tighter from the growing bulge. I don’t know why it gets me going, but it does, and I can’t get enough.

She keeps going, rubbing herself right through the fabric of her nightgown, and fuck me, I want nothing more than to open this window and crawl in to help her out.

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