Page 8 of Ghoul

8

Hazel

“Challenge accepted, baby.” His words rattled through my core as a painful echo. My heart raced as he hovered over me, his hot breath burning my skin with every pant to leaving his mouth. I wanted to scream, to tell him to stop, but he didn’t take advantage of me, I’d started this. He drank far more than I had. Every time politeness flowed from his lips and crept into my body, my curiosity piqued even more than the moment before.

He ran his rough fingertip over my bottom lip so gently and with compassion nanoseconds before scooping his hands underneath my body and lifting me from the mattress. His toned muscles glistened in the moonlight, his skin damp from the amount of back and forth we were giving one another. I scooted my bottom closer to him and straddled him, crying out in pain when he slammed into me, my eyes scanning the room for some type of freedom. Instead of discovering an escape, I found myself. I stared at my reflection through each thrust and told myself to wake up, that I was an idiot for orchestrating this. I could blame this man for so many failures, and even for withering my future before it had a chance to bloom. Yet I was the only one to blame for this. He hadn’t forced me to do anything; in fact, he had shown more chivalry than the two ex-boyfriends who’d claimed to love me.

I never imagined I would find any doubt of who Ghoul was because I knew with my whole being, with every bit of who I was, that he was evil, and yet, here I was, doubting myself. Tears streaked my face, and I pressed my body so tightly against his, clinging to his back with as much strength as I had within me. Closing my eyes, I buried my face against his neck. I couldn’t look at myself anymore. Maybe, if I pretended he was someone else, it would make what was happening okay.

I tried to think of celebrities, exes, hell, I even tried to picture people I didn’t like. Anyone would have been better than the man who I’d seduced. This was on me, and I had to accept it. I reminded myself that this is what I wanted. It wasn’t the fucking that bothered me; it was how gentle and caring he was. I didn’t want him to be capable of those emotions, especially toward me. Because if he showed them, it showed me he wasn’t a complete monster. It was an awful feeling to have the person who you spent so many years and effort hating to be the one to bring you into revelation. I was as soulless as I dreamed he was, perhaps more. I refused to fall further into the hurricane, spinning out of control inside my head. This wasn’t the time and definitely wasn’t the place to fall apart. When I left him, when I was by myself, that was when I would breakdown.

When you were alone, the darkness of reality closed in, and the wolves of your thoughts circled your well-being. There had never been any hope for me, I was a ticking time bomb. I admitted to myself what I had refused the entire time we’d been alone. I couldn’t fight it anymore. I would hate myself tomorrow, but tonight, I would accept what I struggled to deny. This man brought me more pleasure than I had ever experienced in my life. I hated my body for having the capability of feeling desire and greedily demanding more from him. Each time I told my brain I would stop, my hands would roam his body as he discovered mine.

My head fell backward as a moan of pleasure escaped my body along with every ounce of hope I had clung to for all these years. Maybe we deserved each other. Desolation was a lonely place, and, at this moment, I realized why it was said the miserable refused to accept loneliness. My body shook as the cyanide of realism rotted inside me, and I thrust against him harder, just wanting to forget everything, including myself.

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