Page 20 of The Catalyst

"God-fucking-dammit!" he yells as he grips tight onto my hip with one hand and my neck with the other. "Fucking hell. Your pussy is way better than your mouth. No wonder Nigel is so stuck on you. He's hypnotized by this magical cunt."

Fucking bastard.

He pulls out and thrusts back into me, extending the agony, but my body loves every second of the torment. My hips rock and meet him thrust for thrust, begging for more of the delicious pain and pleasure cocktail he delivers.

I moan from how good it feels and sob from the anguish.

I doubt there is a woman on Earth that would be able to have sex with this beast without being in horrible pain, but I can't say I hate this. Actually, I fucking love it—the depravity, the ecstasy, the sex-induced psychosis—and that fucking scares me.

He's delving into the darkest parts of my soul and I don't want to be faced with that. I'm not ready to see that part of me and have to look at myself in the mirror every day after. For that single reason alone, Oliver Doyle is scary and too fucking dangerous for me to be around.

CHAPTER 9

BETH

Irace my mother's car away from that shop as quickly as I can with dried blood on my face and stuck to both my pussy and my ass. What I did was really fucking stupid and even though it was arguably the best sex I've ever had in my life, it's clear by looking at me that something happened. I doubt anyone would assume that I just walked the thin line between pleasure and death and shook hands with the devil for over an hour.

They would probably think I was mugged.

I can't let my mother see me like this. She'll want to file a police report and I can't let her do that. I hate to admit it, but I wanted everything he did to me. He may have forced me to confront that truth, but it doesn't change that I wanted him to fuck me.

I definitely should've gone with the psychopath at the party instead of Nigel. I doubt he would've latched onto me like the annoying O'Reilly boy has. Isn't one of the defining factors of psychopaths that they don't feel emotion?

I pull the car into Judy's driveway and thank the Lord I don't believe in that the garage door is open. The last thing I need is my mother seeing her car over here.

I haven't even gotten the work done to it that I needed to.

The door leading from the house into the garage opens and Judy steps out as I climb out of the car. Her eyes go wide as I take a deep breath.

"Please, tell me no one is here," I beg as I lean against the side of the car. My legs nearly give out on me and she races over.

"Oh, my god! Beth, what the hell happened to you?" she asks as she throws my arm around her shoulder.

"This is nothing. You should see the blood under my skirt. That is horrific," I joke drily.

"Oh shit. Were you raped?" she asks as she helps me into the house.

"God, no. Trust me. If I was, I would be at the police station right now." She helps me down the hall and to her bathroom.

"What happened, Bee? You better tell me why you're covered in blood." She assists me in sitting on the toilet and the way I groan probably looks like I need a hospital.

I'm not used to pain in my ass at all. Even after Nigel took my ass for the first time it didn't hurt. It was sore, but that was it.

I give her a stiff, nervous smile before saying, "I…I had sex…with Oliver."

Her face goes pale as she presses her hand to her chest as if to clutch her nonexistent pearls. "Oliver? For the love of god, please tell me you're not talking about Oliver Doyle. I told you to stay away from him. He's crazy! No wonder you're covered in blood and bruises."

No wonder indeed.

"I didn't plan to have sex with him. It just happened!" I explain the whole circumstance to her and the entire time, I can see the judgment on her face.

"Bu-but, how could you do that to Nigel?!" She's exasperated, throwing her hands in the air to accentuate her point.

"He's not my boyfriend. I don't even like him. He's the one that won't take the hint that I have no interest in pursuing a relationship with him. The only thing I am interested in is drama-free sex and, honestly, I got that from Oliver. Trust me. I'm not going there again and I highly doubt he wants to either. Nigel is clingy as fuck."

She tilts her head in disbelief before crossing her arms over her chest. "Try telling him that."

"Look. I can't go home looking like this. My mom will call the cops. I need your help here. I was supposed to get my mom's tires and oil changed on her car. I don't know what to do."

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