Page 72 of Inevitable Destruction

“I made you fucking need me.” I slow my movement to slow circles, staving off my rapidly impending release.

“Yes,” he parrots, lifting his chin to brush his lips just under my own.

“You need me. For this.” I move my thumb from his neck to the junction of his forearm which is now red, speckled with dried blood—and I think starting to bruise—and press down enough to make him whimper.

“And for this.” I rotate my hips slowly while wrapping around his leaking dick to start jerking him in rhythm with my movements.

“Yes. Need you.” His words die out as they’re replaced by heavier moans and incoherent mumbles.

“F-fuck.” My hips spasm then press flush up against Dominik’s ass as my dick pulses, spilling deep inside his tight hole.

“Fuuuck.” Dominik’s dick throbs as he covers my hand and his chest in his release. I work him through it while slowly rocking my hips, prolonging the burning need short-circuiting my brain.

My eyes lock on the head of his dick as cum continues to spurt from him so hard that some of it lands near his neck and in the hollow of his collarbone. After I wring him fucking dry, Dominik pulls away, a whine in his throat. I release his now flaccid cock, letting it smack against his cum-covered abdomen.

With a grip on his hip, I slowly pull out of him and sit back on my haunches. His leg is heavy in my hand as I push it up and to the side to give me a clear view of his hole. His rim is red and swollen—so fucking abused—but it’s the pearly white string of cum dripping out of him that has my spent cock twitching in predatory arousal all over again.

I don’t even have time to process the fact I didn’t use a condom with him or that he never once called me daddy, and I came harder than I have in my entire fucking life—without the one fucking thing I’ve always needed to achieve my release.

This boy is fucking everything up inside of me.

I swipe my fingers through my cum dripping down his crack and push them inside his inflamed hole. Dominik’s sharp inhale of breath floods my ears, and I smirk as I work my cum back inside of him, loving the way his thoroughly used hole stretches easily around me.

“Mmm. You look all used and fucking dirty,” I speak softly, almost absentmindedly, as I stare at him, unable to tear my eyes away.

Finally, Dominik shifts his legs, trying to press them together, and with a sigh, I climb off the bed, finally allowing him to move. He immediately rolls to his side and curls in on himself, pulling his legs up to his chest and wrapping his arms around my pillow on my side of the bed.

I open my mouth to berate him when I stop, the words dying on my lips.

My pillow. My side.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

With a tick in my jaw, I grab my jeans and yank them on while I watch as Dominik falls asleep almost instantly, his chest heaving with his labored breathing. His dark lashes fan across his cheekbones, somehow accentuating the sharpness of them. His bottom lip is crusted with blood, still bleeding in some spots from where I tore the skin open.

After a few moments, sure he’s asleep, I turn away from him and toward the mess we left. The needle stands out like a beacon amongst the blackest night, and I force down the lump that has suddenly formed down my throat. With my jaw locked tight as I grate my molars, I pick it up and push the small orange cap back over the needle. Then, I open the drawer in the stand to put everything inside of it, out of my fucking line of sight.

The spoon, water bottle, cotton balls, and alcohol wipes go inside of the drawer, and I’m left staring at the ripped condom I tied around his arm, my fucking zippo—Pop’s zippo—and the fucking needle sitting next to my cigarettes.

I let out a heavy breath, fucking exasperated. How did I end up here? With Dominik Reed in my bed—hell, in my fucking head—and high out of his mind from my own doing.

I pick up the condom and throw it in the trash can before flipping open the top of the pack of smokes and pulling one out. After lighting the end, I suck in a drag so fucking big, my head swims comfortably and my lungs scream from the poison I’m allowing into my body.

Immediately feeling some semblance of relief, more like myself, I drop the lighter onto the stand with a loud clank, then grab the small syringe and leave my room without a backward glance. Once I’m in the kitchen, I open a cupboard to look for a small, plastic container. When I find one with its matching lid, I place it on the counter and put the syringe inside, followed by the lid.

It’s not the best, but until I can fucking think properly about any of this, it’ll fucking do.

I yank open the cupboard door to the glasses and grab one while also shoving the small container to the back, out of the direct line of sight. Then, I move to the freezer and pull out my ice-cold bottle of Jameson. I unscrew the cap and fill my glass right fucking there with the freezer door still open and blowing cold air onto my sweaty face.

With one last drag on my cigarette, I pinch the filter between my thumb and index finger and toss it in the sink. I tap the handle to turn on the water, extinguishing it before turning back to my drink, which I take with me to the barstool, where I sit for an endless amount of time, flickering through three different emotions so fucking fast, I have whiplash.

Fury has me fisting my hands so hard, I break through the skin as I resist the overwhelming urge to rush into my room and dump an entire fucking bottle of pills down Dominik’s throat and just fucking be done.

Confusion, for, well, fucking everything that’s happened since I met him, like my inability to keep my distance and keep it strictly about his destruction. I’ve made bad decisions since he came into my life, some of which I should regret, but the regret that should be there just fucking isn’t.

And finally, the worst of all—lust, my fucking infatuation with his pretty-boy face and that sinful body made specifically to ruin me and my plans. I never once expected to react to Dominik the way I did, and for some reason, I can’t find the ability to say no to myself. He’s always fucking there, whether he shows up or I seek him out.

And when he’s near me, I want nothing more than his mouth on me, his skin against mine—cold and soft and so fucking wrong.

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