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But then again, I was wrong. He did hurt me. He fucking killed me because in the blink of an eye, I realized that I was no longer struggling against him. Instead, our lips were locked, tongues battling for dominance as my hands curled into fists as I gripped his shirt.
Dex’s hands were in my hair... digging into my back... pulling me closer into him. And I was helpless to fight it.
I hated him. But I loved the feeling of him touching me more.
Vertigo hit me as I was suddenly swung towards the couch, my body crashing into the soft material. My ass bounced up and down, one leg resting on the couch with my knee bent, the other on the ground holding me stable.
“Look at me.”
My eyes shot up as Dex stood in front of me, staring down at my dishevelled state. His gaze was alight as he held mine, a rush of heat filling me as he pulled off his shirt before flinging it to the side.
I couldn’t help it, I was only human. My eyes instantly snapped down to his bare torso, my body aching as I clenched my thighs together out of desperation. I needed friction, I craved relief. I wanted...
“I said, look at me.”
Gasping, my head was snapped up as Dex’s hand grabbed my chin, maneuvering my face so I was looking at him. He leaned over me, his stomach curled which only highlighted his sharp muscles as his slender finger stroked the underside of my jaw.
“I want to see you break under me, so that I can put you back together the way I want.”
His hand dropped to my neck, pulling on the tender flesh as his fingers curled around it, using the pressure to pull me forward. I gasped, staring at him with wide eyes at his admission, my back arched as he held me by the throat. There was no pain though – just the strange sensation that I did, in fact, want him to wreck me.
“Why?” I choked out, letting out a little whimper as he applied more pressure so that the edges of my vision started to go fuzzy.
“Because I don’t like the person you’ve become. I miss the old Harlow...” he trailed off but his hand never eased up.
Little spots broke in my vision, but instead of fighting, I relaxed into his touch, my body wilting.
“The old Harlow is dead,” I breathed, closing my eyes as my air supply thinned. “They killed her.”
I heard Dex let out a rough breath, his fingers suddenly easing off my windpipe to allow a flood of oxygen to fill my lungs. I gasped, the sudden sensation of fresh air sending tingles down my body.
“No,” he growled, “she’s still there. You’re still there. When I break you, that’s who you’ll be when I fix you...”
My eyes fluttered open, our eyes locking as his words soaked in. I looked at his hard face through my thick eyelashes, a small wave of sadness hitting me.
“You can’t always fix what is broken. Sometimes it’s just too late.”
I expected a reaction but nothing came. Seconds passed before Dex finally reacted, his fingers tightening again around my throat.
“You’re wrong, Harlow,” he responded confidently, “and I’ll fucking prove it to you.”
The world is a spectacular thing. One minute the person you hate can be the one breaking you. The next, they can be on a mission to fix every broken thing about you. It’s confusing, hurtful... but also alluring and fucking addicting.
The pain is like nothing I’ve ever felt. The day to day effects of a web of lies that no one wants to see past. I’ve come to live with that – dealing with the hate and the poison that flows from those wounds. But it’s this, the sweet intoxicating danger of lust that hurts the most. Because I realize I’m slowly becoming addicted to the pain. To Dex’s pain. And no matter how much I keep saying I hate him, I can’t resist him when he commands me to bend to his will, to do as he says.
Dex pulled me forward, giving my throat one last squeeze before flipping me around and pushing me back onto the couch so my chest was flush against it. My knees dug into the soft material as my fingers clawed at the top of the couch, trying to get a grip on something physical as everything else spiralled out of control.
Behind me, Dex grabbed my knee length tartan checkered grey dress and ripped it up, leaving my body bare except for my purple bra and mismatched black panties. I clearly hadn’t been expecting this - planning to have hot, hate sex on our shared couch was definitely not on the agenda for today.
I turned to look back, to watch him but that fell short when his hand came down.
Smack!
I yelped, confused at the fact he hit me, and even more confused at the fact it didn’t hurt at all.
Oh fuck. Do I like pain? Am I a fucking masochist?
“Stay facing forward. Hands on the couch. Keep your knees apart. Do you understand?”
I nodded, swallowing as I began to shake from anticipation and uncertainty.
“Y-yeah...”
The sound of his pants and belt being pulled off had the ache between my thighs growing as I forced myself to stay put. The room went silent and my eyes darted around the limited part of the room I could see, desperate for answers.
Curiosity won out and I slowly turned my head, wanting to see what he was doing, scared shitless that he was staring at me with disgust or worse, that he had left the room.
SMACK.
I let out a cry, this time the pain making an appearance as I realized that it was his leather belt that met my flesh.
“Dex...” I stuttered out, conflicted by the emotions in my mind and the dripping arousal coating my thighs.
“I said to stay facing forward, Harlow. What else did I tell you to do?”
I bit my lip as I thought hard. “Keep my hands on the couch and knees apart,” I whispered.
“Hmm...” he agreed, and I moaned as his hand found my welted pink flesh, his soft touch making me gasp as the sting eased. “And are you going to listen?”
“Yes,” I breathed out quickly, my body trembling under his hand.
“Good girl,” he purred, and my breathing quickened as his hand started sweeping lower, finding my lace underwear. “Are you wet for me, Harlow?”
His fingers teased the edge of the lace, on the cusp of my inner thigh as he waited for my answer.
“Yes...” I answered again, desperate for him to find out for himself.
I didn’t have to wait long as his fingers grabbed the lace, pulling it back slowly. I gasped as the cool air hit my wet skin, my body falling further into the couch as my lower back curved outwards.
Dex hummed his approval, dropping to his knees and I resisted the urge to cower away as I felt his face stop inches from my heat.
“Stay still – I’m committing your smell to memory because it’s better than any food I’ve ever cooked.”
He breathed in and my mouth fell open, my body begging for his touch.
It was at this moment I realized the chaotic truth – I’d let Dex ruin my life, and I’d still say ‘same time tomorrow?’.
A strangled cry escaped my lips as Dex’s fingers found my heat, slipping inside me. I could feel my body clenching around him, clinging to him as pleasure rippled through me.
“God damn... I can’t wait any longer. I need to be inside you,” he groaned out, his fingers quickly leaving me.
Standing up behind me, his hand gently cupped my breast, sliding down the soft curve of my waist to my hip. As it found its place on my hip bone, I felt his other hand pull my panties aside again, the tip of his cock pressing into my warmth.
I sucked in a breath as Dex gripped his cock, drawing it up and down my slit pausing just outside where we both needed him to be.
“Please, Dex...” I stumbled out, my ass pushing out towards him in desperation. He growled, thrusting forward at the same time, burying himself inside of me.
We both gasped at the same time, curses of ′fuck′ slipping out simultaneously as instant ecstasy rocked us both. Dex’s hand tightened on my hip, pulling me closer into him so he was in me as deep as possible.
“Fucking hell,” he groaned, fighting to obtain some control. “I need a second...”
“No,” I moaned out in distress. “Please... I need you. I fucking need you.”
Dex’s control snapped as his other hand grabbed my free hip and I whined for a brief second as he pulled out of me. My disappointment was thankfully short lived as he ripped me back again, impaling me on his hard length.
Moans and cries spilled from my mouth, my body shaking as my hands stayed on top of the couch. I rocked back against him, our rhythm frantic as our skin slapped loudly together. Our names spilled from each other’s mouths and I guess if the neighbors didn’t know who we were before, they sure as shit did now.
