Page 44 of Unhinged Love

“You know what?” Reaching down, I take hold of my dick through my swim shorts. I’m thickening, twitching a little more with every flutter in her throat. “I’m feeling a little stressed. I need you to help me relax.”

Her face was flushed, but now the color drains from it, which only adds fuel to the fire. “You know what always relaxes me?” Taking a step back, I look down at myself—stiffer by the second, looking for something warm and wet. “And you did so good the last time. Get on your knees.”

“I don’t want to,” she whispers, folding her arms and trembling.

“Remind me when I asked whether you want to or not. Get on your fucking knees, or everybody is gonna have a lot to say about your photo shoot when we go back to school tomorrow.”

“You’re disgusting,” she spits out, teeth bared. “What was that all about yesterday, trying to be friends? Why do that if you’re going to treat me this way today?”

You ruined it first. I almost have to bite off my tongue to keep from throwing that in her face. She can’t know how she offended me. I can’t act like some whiny little bitch.

She hisses in what sounds like pain when I use my free hand to take her by the back of the neck and force her down until she gets on her knees with a grunt. “That’s right. Show me your attitude,” I mutter, reaching into my shorts to pull my dick free. “Give me more of a reason to fuck your face.”

The thought of that brings me the closest thing to peace I have felt in days, and it’s what makes me run my swollen head over her mouth once I’m out of my shorts. She can try all she wants to turn away, but it’s no use.

All it takes is a little extra pressure on her neck to remind her how pointless it is to fight. She finally opens her mouth and as soon as her lips are parted, I shove my way inside.

I don’t know what’s better: the warmth all around me or her miserable groan when I hit the back of her throat. Maybe it’s a blend of both. My eyes close slowly as I adjust to the sensation, buried deep. “Fuck, that’s good,” I whisper, and her disgusted grunt makes me smile to myself before I pull back a few inches, then drive myself forward again with no warning. She finds my thighs with both hands and slaps at them, but that’s easy to ignore, especially when it feels so damn good to use her.

“I’m glad I found something you’re good for,” I mutter before hunger takes over. I’m not interested in taking it slow, drawing out the experience. Fuck that.

Her choked whimper is music to my ears. I want more of it. That’s what makes me take her head in my hands and hold it still so I can pummel her with deep, hard strokes that make her gag and groan pitifully. When I look down and find her face going red, eyes watering, it’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. Her misery is exquisite. And I want more. So much more.

“This is what you were looking for?” My hips move fast, invading her again and again, and now her fingers curl into claws, which she drags over my legs like that’s going to do anything to stop me. If her high-pitched whimpers don’t do it, why would a few scratches?

“Take it,” I grunt between ragged breaths. “This is what you wanted. Walking around here. Making sure you’re noticed. This is what you get.”

I drive deep, staying buried, with her nose pressed against the base of my cock. Now she’s shrieking with her mouth full, almost slicing me open with those nails, but I savor the feeling of being completely wrapped in heat and in charge of whether she breathes or passes out.

Finally, I take mercy, pulling my hips back, letting her breathe through her nose again. “I’m not finished,” I mutter when her body starts to relax. Is it saliva that’s dripping onto myballs or is it her tears? Both, I hope. Nobody rejects me when I’m trying to be nice. I won’t make that mistake again.

And then she does it. She looks up at me; her glasses crooked, her eyes swimming with tears, and the sight takes the tension that was already building and makes it explode all at once.

“Here it comes!” I manage to gasp before slamming deep again and filling her throat while she gags on me. “Swallow it. Swallow every fucking drop or you’ll lick it off the floor,” I warn, while waves of bliss roll through me. The satisfaction is unreal, so intense it makes my knees shake.

When I’m finished, balls drained, I pull out with a regretful sigh. “I’m sorry that’s over,” I tell her as I back away so I can gaze down at her tearful face, still red. Her chin is coated with spit, eyes watery.

She gets up right away and turns toward the sink, taking off her glasses to rinse her face and her mouth. “So is that it?” she asks after spitting out a mouthful of water.

“Is what it?” Still, there’s defiance in her voice. What do I have to do to break that defiance?

She turns her head, meeting my gaze, her reddened eyes narrowed. “Is that the price of living in this house while our parents are gone?”

“You know what? I like the sound of that.” I wait just long enough to watch her face fall when she realizes she gave me an idea, then leave the kitchen, whistling softly. I started this day in a shit mood, but suddenly, things have improved.

EIGHTEEN

Elliana

If anything,having to go to school means knowing I won’t have to risk running into Carter out of nowhere the way I could easily do at home. Like yesterday.

The memory is still brutally fresh and sitting at the front of my mind on the way to school this morning. Carter hasn’t said a word as he drives—if anything, I’m sort of surprised he’s driving me at all. I figured he would leave without me, knowing no one could stop him. He wouldn’t be getting any phone calls from Paul, and it’s not like I can ask him to come back from Thailand to drive me the way I did the first time.

All I can do is sit with my backpack on my lap, arms wrapped around it, like it could possibly protect me. Especially once Carter is determined to do something.

Like choking me with his dick. Like fucking my face. It didn’t matter that I was struggling and ready to black out because I couldn’t breathe. It didn’t matter that I was crying and gagging. It was almost like that only made things worse.

My gaze drifts to the world passing on the other side of the passenger window. I can’t help but wonder as we roll by so many people of all ages whether any of them carry around the same shameful secrets I do. How many of them are struggling, too?

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