Page 47 of Shattered Hate

“It would be sexual assault and blackmail if you didn’t want to do it,” I say, cutting through the charged silence. His eyes snap to mine, and I let my gaze travel over him from head to toe. “That’s not the case here.” To cut through the tension and because, frankly, I enjoy this, I slip my hand into my sweatpants, pulling out my dick with casual confidence.

Daxton’s lips part, and his gaze fixes on me as I move my hand up and down, each stroke deliberate. My skin tingles just watching him, the way he stands there, eyes glued to me, and I think I might reach the edge just from this moment alone. But then he does the unexpected.

He drops to his fucking knees.

He doesn’t immediately collapse to his hands; instead, he descends to his knees in a controlled, almost fearful manner, his hands resting lightly on his thighs. His gaze is fixed on my hand… With a speed so slow that it’s almost painful, he moves his hands to the floor, fingers splayed against the cool hardwood, and drops his head, dark hair falling forward to conceal his face.

“Eyes on me, Daxton.” The words escape my lips in a breathless whisper. I never expected this image to be so intoxicating, but here he is, a picture of raw, wild desire.

His head lifts slowly, cheeks flushed a deep pink, just the way I like them. The green of his eyes has deepened to a midnight emerald, the black of his dilated pupils blending seamlessly. His tattoos, dark and shadowed, stretch down his arms, visiblebeneath the rolled-up sleeves of his thin cotton sweatshirt. His lip ring glints under the faint overhead light, and his fingers, decorated with heavy silver rings, tap nervously against the floor with every slight movement.

He’s a fucking masterpiece.

When he finally reaches me, his chin is almost resting on my knee. I sit up, leaning forward until my dick is mere inches from his lips. My heart hammers in my chest, and my breath hitches. His lips are so close that if he were to stick out his tongue, he’d lick my dick. The thought alone sends me into overdrive, my hand pumping my dick faster, squeezing the head tightly. A bead of pre-cum appears at the tip, glistening in the dim light, and Daxton’s breathing stutters.

“Shit.” The word is a low moan, drawn from deep within me. I force myself to slow down, to make this last. I don’t want to come yet, not like this. I want to be buried deep in his throat when I do.

Daxton’s eyes dart from my face to my dick, fixated on the drop of pre-cum as it rolls down the head. His breath hitches again, becoming erratic. He darts his tongue out, a quick, feral movement, and licks up the bead of cum. It’s so fast that if I blinked, I would have missed it.

“Fuck.” The word is an exhale, a release of pent-up tension. Daxton’s eyes flutter closed as he licks his lips, savoring the taste. His breaths are ragged, uneven, matching the wild beat of my heart. I can barely breathe, barely think; anticipation is coiling tight in my gut as I wait to feel those lips wrap around my dick.

“Daxton. Lips. Now.” The command escapes my lips in a husky groan as I squeeze the tip of my cock, drops of pre-cum glistening at the slit. Daxton doesn’t flinch, his lips parting slightly as he leans forward, mouth wrapping around the head, and sucks gently. I can feel the warm wetness of his mouth as hetakes me in. My head falls back, eyes rolling as I release my grip, and a guttural moan escapes from deep within my chest.

Daxton doesn’t hesitate. I force my head up and look down, eyes locked on him, not wanting to miss a single moment. His cheeks cave in, creating deep hollows as he sucks, the pressure building as he does it again and again. I can feel the tension building, the familiar tightening in my balls that tells me I won’t last long. Daxton pushes forward, taking more of me into his mouth, and I know he won’t be able to take all of me, but fuck, he tries. When my cock hits the back of his throat, I swear I see fucking stars, and what feels like electric jolts shooting through my body.

“Fuck, fuck,” I pant, my balls drawing up tight, and I grasp Daxton’s hair, pulling sharply. He lets out a hiss as his lips slide off my cock, eyes wide as he looks up at me from his position on the floor.

His lips are swollen, a deep, glossy red, and his eyes… his eyes are black. There isn’t a trace of green left, just pure, endless midnight.

I grab the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair, and guide him back to my cock. I need his mouth on me again. Fuck, this is too good. Better than any fucking dream. Nightmare.

His lips wrap around my cock again, and I watch him. I watch as his eyes go heavy in lust, and then they flutter closed like he’s in pure ecstasy. I watch as his hand snakes down to rub at himself through his jeans. And I watch as his eyes flicker up to me, and all I see is pure hunger. And something else… relief in the way his shoulders relax and the way his eyes open and lazily close again.

Like this is what he’s been wanting, what he’s been craving, and he’s finally, finally getting it.

Well, fuck him for wanting this. And fuck me for wanting him right back.

I stand, my spine curved and fingers tangled tightly in his hair at the nape of his neck, making sure his lips are still wrapped around my cock. I tilt his head back, catching his eyes this time. I pin them with my sharp gaze, and he keeps them open, blinking rapidly despite the watery sheen glazing his eyes.

“Let me show you how much I hate you.” My voice, rough and low, cuts through the heavy breathing and the suppressed moans vibrating in Daxton’s throat. I pull my hips back slightly, then thrust forward, filling his mouth completely. The gagging noise that escapes him fuels me, and when his hands push against my thighs, it only drives me to plunge deeper.

I look down at his eyes, swimming in unshed tears, and press against the back of his throat, holding myself there. His throat convulses around the tip, sending waves of pleasure that make my eyes roll back in my head. I look down at him again; his eyes are still on me, tears now streaming down his face. “Cry for me, Daxton,” I growl. He closes his eyes, more tears spilling over. “Fuck yes.” I groan loudly, then slam my dick into his mouth one last time as he chokes, gasping around my dick for air. My balls tighten as my stomach flips, and my whole body erupts in goose bumps. I empty myself down Daxton’s throat. He gags but swallows what he can, some of it dripping down his chin.

I release his hair, and he immediately pulls back, breathing heavily, staring down at the floor. I tuck my dick away and sit back down on my bed, my chest heaving. I stare at his tear-streaked face, his cheeks flushed red, his breath still coming in ragged gasps. His lips look swollen and bruised.

He looks fucking wrecked. And that’s when I realize, in this moment, he needs to leave. He needs to go right now. Before I do something stupid, like ask him to stay.

I stand up from my bed, crossing to the door, and quietly flip the lock. The sound is barely audible, but it snaps him out of his daze. His head jerks up abruptly, and I can see his eyes arebloodshot red. I linger by the door, the tension between us thick in the air. “Let me know if Mike likes my taste,” I taunt. His nostrils flare, and he clenches his jaw tight as he rises from the floor.

“Fuck you,” he rasps, his voice hoarse and raw, yet it brings a twisted smile to my lips. Daxton grabs the handle, his shoulder brushing against mine as he swings the door open and strides out. My mind is a flurry of conflicting emotions, screaming at me to stop him, to ask him to stay. As I watch him walk down the hallway, a sense of dread creeps over me, knotting my stomach.

I hate him. I shouldn’t feel this way. I should be relieved he’s leaving.

“Daxton,” I call after him, stepping out of my dorm room. He freezes mid-step but doesn’t turn to face me. When I remain silent, he finally glances over his shoulder, his eyes dark with anger as they lock onto mine.

I should beg him to stay. I should promise not to expose his secrets about his past life.

But I don’t.

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