Page 63 of The Boy I Loved
I shook my head again, but it was no use. He continued driving his fingers inside of me, hitting that sweet spot that brought me closer and closer with each movement. His hard cock pushed against my clit at the same time, making my head spin.
“Give yourself to me,” he demanded, his voice rough and pained, like it was taking everything in him not to take me right now. His grip tightened around my throat, cutting off my oxygen.
Panic speared through my chest, blossoming until my entire body began to spasm and struggle against him.
“The faster you come, the sooner you get to breathe,” he said. “I’d focus on that rather than getting free, because only one of those things are realistic.”
I slumped against him, white spots dancing at the edges of my vision. It wouldn’t take much to get off. I’d been fighting it this entire time, hoping he’d simply give up and move on to the next, but now I realized that wasn’t the case. I focused on moving my body against his, on his hand between my legs, my mind whirling, going right back to that treehouse—back to the party in one of Rodney’s bedrooms.
Dominic was aggressive, but there was also so much passion there. The way his mouth moved against mine, the way his body pinned me into the mattress, and his sexy groans when he lost control. I still hated him for this, but it was hard letting go. My body trembled violently, electrical sparks shooting through my core. Finally, I gave in.
Mason let out a choked sound, but he didn’t relent, pumping his fingers through my release until we were both drenched in it. I bit back every moan, rolling my lip between my teeth to stop them from filtering through the air.
“You did good,” he praised through heavy breathing. “But next time, you’ll be the one making me cum.” He pulled his hand from my throbbing center, bringing it to his lips and sucking my juices off. His eyes never left mine, something heated in his gaze as he watched me.
With trembling legs, I rose. He didn’t stop me, so I figured I was free to go. My stomach twisted with disgust over what had just happened, guilt filtering through my mind. I made my way to Lauren and Stacy, sinking down into the chair I’d vacated earlier.
I didn’t look at them, didn’t even speak to them. I couldn’t. I wanted to curl up into a ball and cry the rest of the day away. This was only day one of training, and from the sounds of it, it only got worse from here on out.
A lone tear splatted over my cheekbone, but I swiped it away with a flick of my hand. I couldn’t be weak here. I’d do it quietly when no one was watching.
Stacy had endured unimaginable torture and brutality, and yet, the world went on without her. Mrs. Felps didn’t give a single shit about what happened to her, even told us we couldn’t speak of it any longer. I didn’t think much of it then, but that was before I knew what she’d actually gone through. Would the world simply do that with me and Lauren, too? We were nothing other than insignificant people, forced out of the minds of those who hadbetterthings to do—like work a dead-end job and take care of their families.
We simply didn’t matter, and that was the hardest pill to swallow.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
DOMINIC
Sleep didn’t come easilylast night. All I could think about was Hazel, forced into that disgusting cell. She was probably cold, hungry, and lonely. I was too much of a coward to see her, so I’d intentionally steered clear. But that wasn’t an option today. Clay wanted me to help with their training after lunch. It was intentional—he wanted her to see me. He wanted her to hate me and acknowledge how much of a monster I truly was.
After showering, I threw on the usual black T-shirt and jeans we normally wore and headed for the elevator, tuning out the stupid music as I descended.
When it opened, I made my way down the hall, not bothering to look at any of the girls in the cafeteria as they ate. I didn’t want to risk seeing her again, even though it was inevitable eventually.
Vincent and Tristan were in the room when I arrived, both going over the names on the list. There was one other dipshit here too, but I couldn’t remember his name for shit.
Tristan glanced up when he spotted me, a smile curling around the edges of his mouth. “Hey. We were just talking about what we should have the girls do today.”
“Blowjobs are out of the question.” Vincent rolled his eyes. “Apparently Mason had them doing that this morning.”
My knees buckled; agony laced with anger as it crawled up my spine. Mason wouldn’t pass up an opportunity like that. He would have been the one shoving his cock down her throat, and he would have degraded her while doing it—just like Tristan. My fingers curled into the palms of my hands as I made my way toward them.
“We could just teach them,” I suggested, attempting to keep the rage from seeping into my tone. “Verbally.”
Tristan snorted and shook his head. “Where the hell is the fun in that? This isn’t Sex-Ed.”
Right. It was only fun if the girls were getting fucked against their will and bawling their eyes out by the end of it. I’d almost forgotten. Even my thoughts were sarcastic, which told me I probably shouldn’t even be doing this.
Vincent huffed a laugh, agreeing with him, which didn’t surprise me in the slightest.
“Whatever. It was just an idea. We don’t want to wear them down too badly. Most of them just got fucked right before lunch.”
“He has a point,” no-named guy said. “First blowjobs, then sex, and now … what?”
Vincent snapped his gaze over to the newbie, rolling his pierced lip between his teeth. “Who the fuck are you again?” he demanded.
Newbie shifted uncomfortably under the weight of everyone’s gaze, stuffing his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “Azrael,” he answered. “We’ve met before.”
