Page 51 of Bound To Me

God fucking damnit.My heart raced with desire and I felt like passing out with how heavily I was breathing. My pussy pulsed for him, screaming with need in a way that no one else could make me feel. Why was my body so easily and readily able to betray me?

“I’m sure that must be very hard for you, then. Knowing that I’m unavailable,” I muttered with shaky breath.

I felt a wave of nausea wash over me—how the hell did those words come out of my mouth? The realization hit me like a freight train. Maybe I was stronger than I ever imagined.

Michael smiled with amusement and shook his head, stopping inches from my face. He placed his hand on my cheek, and I used every fiber of my being to resist the urge to lean into him.

“I don’t think that’s true, sweet Jackie. You’re always available for Daddy,” he breathed, staring down at my lips. “I know for a fucking fact that if I slipped my hand down your panties, my fingers would slide right into that wet pussy of yours.”

I gulped and tried to shake my head, but I couldn’t move. Why wasn’t I moving?

“Please. Please leave, Michael,” I whispered, my confidence completely gone.

He smiled wider, then took my hand and pressed it against his hard cock over his jeans. My fear turned into a mixture of desire, guilt, and hatred for myself, because I didn’t try to flinchaway. Michael was like my fucking crack—I was addicted to him. I hated him, he ruined my life, he destroyed everything good about me, and I wanted to run away. But he was right in front of me, begging for me to take a hit.

He left my hand on his cock and took his other hand to my face and pulled me in for a hard, eager kiss. Tears streamed down my face as I kissed him back and rubbed my hand up and down his shaft. He quickly pulled away, unbuttoned his jeans, and pulled his cock out. He ripped off my white button-up work shirt and then put his hand under my chin, forcing my gaze to his.

“Take your clothes off and get on your fucking knees, Jackie,” he demanded, his eyes dark and wild.

I was sobbing now. My body continued to betray me as I unzipped my pants, pulled them off, and got onto my knees. I looked down at my hands that sat atop my thighs, right above my scars from the very man that was right in front of me.

“Oh, my sweet fucking Jackie. Look at me and take my cock like a good little girl,” he exhaled, his demanding tone one that I so easily remembered and responded to.

I looked up at him and opened my mouth, waiting for him to thrust into me. My mind was now completely blank—all that I felt was the innate need to please Michael. And soon, he was fucking my face with fury, holding my hair back while I choked on his cock. My drenched pussy ached for him.

He yanked on my hair as he pulled out of my mouth, standing me up and throwing me against the bed. I landed on my stomach and Michael quickly pulled my legs apart with his knee.

“I fucking told you, Jackie. You’re always available for Daddy. Such a weak fucking slut,” he spit out before he slammed into me, furiously pounding like he hated me; I was positive that he did. I was positive that I hated myself too.

He took my hands and pulled them behind my back, holding my wrists together as he continued to pump hard and fast. I knew what was gonna happen—he was going to fuck my ass and use every hole of my body just like he always did. But then he reached around and began to rub my clit, his fingers slipping around frantically, urging me to come quickly. I screamed out with pleasure as my pussy clenched around his cock and as he laughed into my ear.

“See, baby? You still belong to me. You always will.” He pulled out of my pussy and instantly pushed himself into my ass, forcing a painful scream from my throat, but he was quick to put his hand around my mouth and quiet me. And just like he did the first night we met, he forced an orgasm as he rubbed my clit, then came inside my ass with a deep, low growl.

My mind began to race as Michael laid on top of me, catching his breath.How did I let this happen? I could have run out of the hotel room as soon as I saw him sitting there. Why didn’t I? What the fuck is wrong with me? Was Michael right? Would I always belong to him? I just betrayed Elliott in the worst fucking possible way. What was he going to think of me now? He’s going to hate me. Probably better off that way—I’m too much of a fucking mess. I warned him, but he didn’t listen. And now I just let the man I hated most in the world fuck me senseless. I’m a lost fucking cause. And now what is Michael going to do to me?Fear slowly crept up my belly again as Michael pulled out of me. I laid still on the bed, afraid to move. I was expecting a blow to the ass or for him to pull me up and take me by the throat. But he didn’t do either of those things; instead, he walked into the bathroom, and I heard water start to fill the bathtub. I looked over as he walked back into the room, eyeing me eagerly.

“Come on, sweet Jackie. Let me clean you up, baby.” His voice was soft and gentle as he held out his hand. I shakily tookit, knowing exactly what he was doing; he was going to try to win me back, to reel me in just as he had before, when he would be cruel one moment and sweet the next. But now I needed to be stronger and not let him consume me again. Except I didn’t want that—I wanted to be his. I wanted to please him all over again, to be the person he wanted.

He was right: I belonged to him. I was bound to him. And I feared that I always would be.

Then

Michael went back to ignoring me after that night. I was almost relieved; the scars on my arms were still healing, and I wasn’t sure if I could handle any more pain. I continued to watch as he came and went from his Williamsburg apartment, probably noticing me since I didn’t even try to hide it, but he never acknowledged me.

I also found out, through her Instagram, that Hana had married the cute guy from the day in Battery Park. His name was Jack. It seemed sudden—she was engaged to Michael one moment and then married to Jack the next. I wondered if that’s why Michael had called me that night. I was happy they weren’t engaged anymore, but he still wanted nothing to do with me.

But I figured out a way to get back into his life, whether he realized it or not.

I met Billie one night at a bar near her apartment. I found out that she was Hana’s ex-roommate by snooping through Instagram. I discovered the hipster bar she frequented and started hanging around there. I actually liked it a lot, and I began to make some friends since I was there often; those people also happened to be Billie’s friends. It was a perfect coincidence.

We started talking and hit it off. She was so cool, artsy, and easy to talk to. One night, she mentioned she was looking for a new roommate. I told her I had always wanted to live in the area. And just like that, we were living together.

I was living in Hana’s old room. It seemed surreal to be sleeping in the very same bed she used to. Billie told me Hana left most of her furniture because she moved out in such a rush. She seemed bitter towards Hana, and especially towards Michael. I got the whole story: their wavering love affair, the back-and-forth between Michael and Jack, the quick engagement.

Since I was much closer to Michael’s apartment now that I lived in the same neighborhood, I was able to watch him more frequently. But in late April, I couldn’t figure out where he was and grew concerned. Had he moved without me realizing it? Did something happen to him? I decided to text him when I couldn’t handle the worry anymore:Where are you? I haven’t seen you in a while.

Hours later, just as I began to believe he would never respond, my phone vibrated in my pocket as I sat at the waterfront near his house.Not that you need to know, but I’m taking care of things out of town. I don’t need you anymore, Jackie. Leave me alone.

I began to sob in public. Why did he keep stringing me along, marking my body, making me believe he loved me when all he wanted was to hurt me? I wasn’t sure if he was actually capable of love. Was he just evil? I decided that I would no longer give him my time. I would ignore him the next time he contacted me; I wouldn’t give in anymore. Maybe then he’d realize what he was missing out on. Maybe then he’d actually start to love me.

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