Page 37 of Play By The Rules

“Do you care?”

“Not particularly.” I grab the wine from her hand, tipping it so the liquid flows down my throat. It’s too sweet for anything I’d normally enjoy, but knowing she’s had her lips wrapped around the same spot mine are—well, that makes for a much more enjoyable experience.

We sit in silence for a while, passing the bottle back and forth between one another. It’s nice. Familiar. Like the night of her sixteenth birthday when we did the same thing, but in her childhood bedroom.

“My mum’s a cunt.” Her words come out in a whisper, so fucking quiet I’m not sure they’re even meant for me. “She hit me, again. Before we came. And why I’m telling you any of this, I don’t know. Because we all know you could care less about anything that hurts me. But I’m drunk, and high and you’re here.”

She’s so fucking wrong, it’s laughable. Though I don’t say anything. It’s better for her to think that, to think that I don’t care. It’s easier that way.

“I just want to forget.”

“Yeah?” I ask, twisting my head to face her. She looks so fucking sad it causes an ache to fill my chest that I don’t want to deal with. “I’ve got an idea.”

“What?”

“How far are you willing to go to forget, Casper? To trade one shitty moment, for another?”

She eyes me curiously. Her eyes are glazed but alert enough I don’t worry I’m taking advantage. And even if I was, I doubt I’d care.

I stand, my hands fiddling with the buckle of my belt. Her eyes widen, but she stays quiet. Holding her stare, I slip the belt free, letting it drop to the floor. My trousers go next, falling to my ankles.

She licks her full bottom lip, while a flush spreads over her cheeks.

“What are you doing?”

“Making you forget,” I tell her, slipping my thumbs into my boxers and sliding them down. Without giving her a moment to say no or walk away, I fist her hair, pulling her face to my aching dick. “Open your mouth, Fallon.”

Her lips purse, and she shakes her head. My free hand moves to her jaw, cupping it. “I said fucking open.”

I squeeze her cheeks, hard, until she gasps; the opening lets me thrust to the back of her throat. Holding her there, I watch as her face turns beet red before slowly morphing into a purple shade at the lack of oxygen.

Fucking beautiful.

Pulling back, I thrust again and again. My dick punishes her throat for a long minute. The moment her eyes haze over in lust, she sucks in her cheeks, pulling me into her. When her tongue slides around the tip of me, I barely suppress a shudder. With every new thrust, she gags, struggling to keep up.

“That’s it, baby,” I hiss when she deepthroats me, keeping her eyes on mine. They fill with tears while drool spills around her mouth, coating me. I pull her flush again, cutting off her oxygen once more. “Fuck yes, fucking choke on me like a good girl.”

She panics, trying to pull away, but I press her into my pelvis harder. Her nails scratch my thighs as her lungs struggle to pull in new breaths. I do this two times more, my dick pulsing inside her mouth when it reaches new heights, and her eyes flutter close.

One more suck and I’m gone. With a groan, I explode into her mouth. She gags, but like the good girl she is, she swallows me down.

Every last fucking drop.

When I finally let her pull away, she slumps to the floor. Her eyes spill over with tears, running down her flushed cheeks. I quickly pull my trousers back up, not bothering to clean myself. Walking around knowing my cum is staining my pants mixed with Fallon’s drool will be fucking euphoric.

Taking the last of the wine, I down the dregs before tossing the bottle in the bin.

I’m not a monster, after all.

When I step out the door, I turn to face her once more. “Thanks.”

I don’t know how long I stay on the bathroom floor, my head against the cold tiles. My throat aches while my lungs burn. My body is spent, and I barely did anything. The act in itself should have been humiliating. I should be angry. Angry at him for taking that from me, forcing me.

So why am I not?

A smile spreads across my face when I finally stand, turning towards the mirror. My make-up is smeared under my eyes and my lipstick smudged across my face, but I don’t care. I told him I wanted to forget, and he gave me that.

Even if only for a short while.

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