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He leans close to my ear, his hard length pressing against my ass. “You want dis? You want you high?”
“Y-yes.”
“Yes, what?”
I swallow the bile rising in my throat. The voices are too loud. The memories taking over. I need them to stop. Anything to make them stop. I clench my eyes shut, refusing to look at Damien's door. “Yes, I want you, Dorian.”
“I'm not you sweet Damien.” He growls the words. “I no be gentle. But you will come foa me.”
He slams inside of me.
I cry out, biting my bottom lip to muffle the sound. I’m not ready, but he doesn’t stop. Unrelenting, he twists his hand around my hair and holds me still as he thrusts deep inside me at a punishing pace.
“Open you eyes,” he growls. “I want you to know who’s fucking you. Whose dick is buried deep inside you dirty pussy.” He grabs my hips, thrusting even harder.
I force the tears not to fall as I focus on Damien’s door. It’s not him. Not the man I love. Still, my traitorous body climbs higher.
His hand traces around my hips and grabs my clit. He circles his index finger as he thrusts even faster. I jerk, arching my back from the sensations. A moan escapes my lips, betraying my heart.
“Das it, honey girl. When you come, you call my name.” He grunts behind me, rotating his hips with each rough thrust.
I cry out, no longer able to hold back as my vision clouds. As I moan his name, his body goes rigid, shaking twice behind me as he comes undone.
As soon as he’s done, he pulls out and zips up his pants.
“Knew you wen one dirty whore.” He spits the words as he tosses me the bag from his pocket.
It lands on the floor beside my shorts.
A new wave of tears falls as I lean down to pick it up. My stomach turns. As his seed drips down my bare thigh, I glance at the end of the hallway, toward Damien’s door.
My silent tears turn into heaving sobs. With each gasp for air, the bile in my stomach rises higher.
Rushing into my room, I make it to the toilet right as I throw up.
Chapter Four
The shower turned cold an hour ago. Still, I cannot move. As my tears mix with the frigid stream, the gravity of what I did sinks in.
I cheated.
On Damien.
My chest aches, a pain emanating deep inside my ribcage.
I’m a horrible person. A dirty whore.
The darkness creeps in, dulling the ice-cold pricks from the shower. I clench my head, screaming as the memories blur with reality. I was forced to do it. I didn't have a choice.
I need to forget. I need the pain to go away.
Eventually, I dry off and stare at the small bag sitting on the sink counter. My hands shake as I grab it, clutching the tiny bag like it's my lifeline, the only thing that can save me.
A loud banging on the door startles me. I jump, dropping the precious package.
“Be ready to leave in fifteen,” a gruff voice barks from the other side. Kane.
Shoe shopping. It must be morning. Another night with no sleep.
