Not now.
Not for this.
I don’t prep her. Don’t warn her. This isn’t for her. This isn’t about pleasure. This is my goodbye to the boy she buried years ago. To the girl I used to love. And to the woman who made me fall in love again only to kill me once more.
There will be nothing left after this. Not of me, not of her.
I thrust into her. Rough. Sudden. She gasps, a small sound of protest, then settles. She thinks it’s a morning fuck.
“Dominic…” she breathes, a sleepy tease. “You’re eager today, aren’t you?”
“Shhh…” I murmur against her shoulder.
My lips brush her skin. It’s a goodbye kiss.
I wrap her hair around my hand, the motion familiar and routine, something I’ve done hundreds of times before.
But this is the last.
I move, hard and unforgiving, chasing my own release. Because she doesn’t matter. Not anymore. All I want is to feel her one last time before I have to let her go for good.
She moans beneath me, soft and dazed. She still thinks I’m hers but she’s wrong.
I finish fast and she doesn’t finish at all. I spill my release across her back, coating her in it — it’s not a claim, like it used to be. It’s a mark of shame.
And when I pull away, I feel the monster opening its jaws again. Ready to rip another piece out of her soul.
Before she can say a word, I’m already zipping up my jeans.
She shifts, confused, blinking the sleep from her eyes. I don’t wait for questions, and throw the first clothes I find straight into her lap.
“If you don’t want to walk out of this room naked, put those on.” My voice is dead, ice-cold.
Her eyes go wide, confusion turning into fear.
“What?” she whispers, the sound broken and small. Not because of what I said — but because ofhowI said it. Because she hears what’s underneath. The change.
I grab her arm hard and yank her up off the bed.
She gasps and cries out, startled, stumbling back.
I lean in close, my breath fanning her lips.
“I said get fucking dressed,” I growl, “unless you want me to parade you through this entire fucking place naked and drenched in my cum.”
She starts shaking. Tears spring to her eyes, and I welcome each one. Let her feel this. Let her see what she’s broken loose.
But she finally listens to me.
Good. Her body belongs to me. Only I can see it.
She pulls the t-shirt over her head with unsteady hands, not saying another word.
Fuck, that’s my t-shirt! Doesn’t matter. Doesn’t fucking matter.
The second it’s on, I grab her arm again and drag her forward. Fast. Brutal. She stumbles behind me, sobbing.
“What are you doing, Dominic?” she chokes out.
