Page 45 of Bitter Lies

His lidded eyes brighten, and he smiles as I wriggle over him like the dirty whore he wants me to be and pull his belt from the loops with a naughty smile. He bucks into me with a groan, and for a second, I’m stuck in my past, frozen as the sounds of his harsh grunts ring in my ear.

And all I see is the same ugly expression he had on his face as he reared into me and ignored my pained pleas.

Everything hurts. It hurts. Stop.

But he doesn’t hear her, and she closes her eyes.

“Hey, we doing this or what?” he asks, breaking me from my reverie.

Focusing on his ugly fucking face, I smile wide and lean into him, whispering against his lips, “Do you like it rough?”

“Oh, fuck yeah, baby,” he moans, arching into me again.

Ignoring the icy waves of disgust battering at my soul, I pull the belt from the last of the loops and grab his wrist before wrapping the leather around it tightly.

“What are you doing?” he mutters, and I smile.

“Let me tie your hands, baby, and then I’ll give you the ride of your life.”

“Oh, fuck yeah,” he says again, whistling under his breath.

Fucking idiot.

Wrapping his other hand in the belt, I pull it tight and string it through the bars of the headboard, securing it as best I can. It won’t hold for long, but I don’t need much time because I’m trembling with so much rage it won’t be hard to cause damage.

He pulls on the belt experimentally, looking at me through lidded eyes, and I smile wickedly, wrenching his pants below his ass.

“Yeah, baby, you ready to ride my dick?”

“Oh, I’m ready, alright,” I purr, standing and staring with disgust at his erection before raising my stiletto-clad foot and slamming it down on his junk.

He screams and arches away, but I just follow, smashing him with the pointy-edged toe with a savage smile, my heart racing so rapidly I’m panting.

“What the fuck are you doing? Crazy bitch!” His eyes are wide and wary as he pulls on the bed frame violently.

His legs swing wildly, the entire bed shaking under his vehemence, and I tsk, muttering, “What’s the matter? Doesn’t it feel good?”

“No, you crazy bitch!”

“No?” I ask, cocking my head to the side. “Well, too fucking bad because it feels good to me.”

Slamming him with the heels once again, I drop from the bed and stroll away, stopping at the door as he swears behind me. My pulse is beating in my veins at a rapid tempo, and there’s a darkness lingering in my soul that tells me if I don’t leave now, I may not be able to stop.

And it’s a scary fucking notion.

“Was it good for you, baby?” I ask before exiting and closing the door behind me.

Heading straight for the stairs, I avoid everyone as I race away, my entire body trembling with exhilaration even as disgust roils through me rapidly.

Unfortunately, this doesn’t help with the feeling I have that I’m crawling out of my skin, and mindlessly I walk home, ditching the wig in a garbage can, before pulling out the contacts and tossing them away as I grab the heels off my feet.

No clearer for the brisk walk, grimly I approach our house lit up like a fucking Christmas tree as every light shines and bass music pumps loudly from the open windows.

Once through the door, I head straight to my room, itching everywhere as agony bleeds through my veins.

I catch Griffin’s eyes as I pass to the hallway where he’s standing and talking to some bitch, and mindlessly my eyes pass over them both as I keep going, unable to see past the darkness lurking at the corners of my vision.

Clearly, there’s a fucking beast hiding behind my lies, and I’m terrified of what that means. Am I more fucked than I thought? Truly crazy?

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