Page 39 of Make Me Pretty
Going…
Going…
Fucking gone.
“Yeah,” I rasp in hatred. “That’s exactly what I want.”
He somehow manages to jut his pointy chin out through my hold on him. “And what if it’s not what I want?” He sounds vexed, but his face is resolute, like he’s finally accepting his fate.
Or maybe, I’m accepting mine.
Lukemade me this way, and it turns out, I can’t change who I am—I’ve fucking tried. And Abel…well,he’sthe reason I can no longer hide from my truths. And that isexactlywhat he wanted, the little fucking liar.
I crouch until we’re on a more even level, drawing his face closer to mine with my grip on his hair. Abel’s jaw tightens, and the uneven bone shifts under the pressure. His cheeks are hollowed and flushed. Lips spit-slick and permanently swollen. I have to rip my eyes away from the pout of his mouth, settling on gunmetal irises to search their depths for… something unknown.
Every messy, disgusting thing he makes me feel flaresup beneath my flesh, itching to be released. Gnawing on every organ, every nerve.
I fucking hate the way he looks. So… wretchedlypretty.Two things that can’t coincide,but with him…
I push myself up using my grip on Abel’s head. He sways under the pressure until I tug back, forcing him to look up at me with every ounce of bitter capture. “You act like you haven’t been pushing for this kind of reaction from me for fuckingmonths,” I sneer. “This is what you wanted.” My nails sink into his scalp.I’m touching him. His breath is on my skin.
Abel glares at me, face twisted and lips pinched into an ugly sneer.
“Your fuckingface,” I spit, bending over so my lips brush his chin, “I want to wreck it. Wreckyou.” My teeth skim over his soft skin and down his pale throat. I lean back to stare at his unblemished flesh, vividly remembering the bruises from before, when he first came to Ardent High, and those that followed for weeks after.
I want to stain Abel with some bruises of my own. Dark, ugly, purple things to match the decadent disgust living inside of him.
“So, wreck me then,” he says so calmly, meeting my stare evenly.So confident.
I’ve wanted to ruin his face since I first saw him truly unmasked, cutting and astute.Cravedto see if hurting him like I hurt would make the pain any less.
Every moment has been a painful, bitter reminder of what I’m not. What I can’t be.Who I am.Someone just as twisted, just as terrible, as Abel Silver.
I wish I felt a moment of hesitation, an inkling of panic for the pit I was about to dive into, but there’snothing.Nothing but bitter resentment pinned with acceptance.
“Open your mouth.” My fingers find the knot in my towel with ease, and I release it from where it’s tucked around my waist, watching as it falls to the floor in a heap around my feet.The dampness of the room licks over my skin like a blanket, but the heat rushing through my veins is no match.
Or...not.
Abel does as he’s told as he shifts onto his knees and parts those sinful lips of his to suck my cockhead into his mouth like he’s a man starved. My vision turns hazy. White filters in, followed by a very distinct static. I lurch forward on a grunt. “Fuck, runt. That’s it. Put your mouth around me.”
He tongues my slit, and the pressure makes me groan, thrusting as Abel shoves me down his throat. Heat envelops me. Too tight, too wet.
“Slow.” He makes a long, wet slurping sound that makes my toes curl. “Slow the fuck down,” I growl when he gets too eager, bobbing fast enough for his hair to flutter around his stretched lips. “You’re not in charge here.Not anymore.” I bring my palm against the side of his face, and I gasp. The sting rings loud, echoing throughout the locker room, and Abel pulls back with a hiss, cheek blistered with my handprint, skin a wonderful shade of pink.
My eyes dart down to the apparent bulge in the front of his jeans. My lips curve.
“Don’t fucking hit me,” he growls, his crooked teeth showing in his grit. My smirk widens as I shove my thumb between those ugly teeth until I feel a wet tongue. Suction wraps around my digit instantly, turning my smile into a heated leer.
I lift my bare foot from the floor, replacing the coldness of the concrete with the warmth of his crotch. I slide the arch over his bulge until the ball of my foot sits perfectly against his cock—and then I dig in. Hard. Harder until Abel whimpers and tries to shift away, knees cracking on the concrete. But he can’t. He’s trapped against the wall—against me.
“I’ll hit you if I want to. Don’t pretend you don’t like being smacked around a little,” I huff as I rip my thumb from hismouth just to wipe his saliva across his face. “And damn, does it feel good to finally do it.” I slap him again just to prove my point. He hisses and whimpers. Shifts around on his knees, making my foot roll over his hard, little dick.
I stroke myself once, smearing Abel’s spit along my length, hating how much I like it. Something so repulsive, so fucking…impossible.
He’s panting, trembling, staring up at me with wide, pathetic eyes. Waiting like the good boy I didn’t know he could be.
“Go on.” I nod my head, thrusting my hips toward his face. My cock bobs in the air, glans red and shining from his saliva, beckoning for more. Abel doesn’t waste a moment. His spine bows perfectly as he leans in to pull me back into his mouth with a suction strong enough to buckle my knees. All tight lips and slick tongue as he hollows his cheeks—and I lose myself to the mind-numbing pleasure of his mouth.
