Whatever was loose inside my head snaps back into place, and I fucking hate myself.
Reese is still fucking my mouth. His shadows have left my cock softening on my thigh, an empty feeling in their wake and a mess of cum on my jeans, but they’re still pinning my wrists to the wall. I can’t see anything through the blur of tears, and all I can taste and feel is him and the dread crawling back in.
I barely resist the temptation to bite his dick.
He’d fucking deserve it.
But I don’t because…yeah, fine. Okay. There’s still a part of me that wants his cum.
So I wait. I hollow my cheeks and suck. I press right underneath the head of his cock with my tongue. He grunts, and his hips jerk. He settles all the way in the back of my throat as his dick pulses inside my mouth and he forces me to swallow everything he has.
His thumb swipes across my cheek. When he steps back, his shadows go with him. I can barely make out the shape of him licking my tears off his thumb as the darkness releases me and my arms fall to my sides.
They don’t feel like mine at first. My shoulders burn as the blood rushes back in, pins and needles chasing down to my fingertips. I sag forward, catching myself at the last second before I hit the floor face-first. I shut my eyes tight, my breath coming in uneven pulls that still don’t feel quite right in my chest.
Everything feels wrong.
Like something got cracked open, and now I can’t shove it back where it belongs.
I drag in a shaky breath and immediately regret it, my ribs protesting, my lungs still not convinced they’re safe to expand all the way. The room feels colder without the shadows on me, which…is deeply fucked up considering they felt like suffocationfive minutes ago.
My hands curl into fists against the floor.
Maybe I shouldn’t have given in.
Maybe that was a mistake.
A huge, catastrophic, life-altering mistake.
Reese doesn’t speak, and I can’t look up at him. The silence is thick and heavy and too much.
“I hate you,” I say.
It comes out quieter than I expected it would. Not harsh or loud. Just…true.
Because I do. Right now, in this moment, I fucking hate him.
My vision blurs at the edges more than normal, exhaustion crashing into me all at once now that the adrenaline and arousal are gone. My body feels like it’s shutting down piece by piece, systems failing in a slow cascade.
“I really,” I add, barely audible now, “really hate you.”
I don’t know if he says anything back. I don’t know if he moves.
The floor rushes up to meet me as my arms finally give out, and this time I don’t catch myself.
I drift in and out after that, the world seeping in through the cracks in fragments. A door opening. Footsteps. The faint curl of shadows brushing somewhere too close, then gone again like they were never there.
Time doesn’t exist, just pieces of it, floating and disconnected.
When I wake again, it’s quieter and still. I blink slowly, my head pounding as I try to orient myself. The concrete floor is still beneath me, my body exactly where it gave out. Nothing’s changed.
Except…
My gaze drifts to the door. It sits ajar, just enough to let a thin line of light cut into the room.
I stare at it, my brain struggling to catch up.
Then my pulse spikes, and suddenly, I’m wide awake.
