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Chapter 18
Mikel
Later that night, Mikel tossed and turned in a fitful sleep. Vicious flashbacks assaulted him: his father’s accusatory eyes as he convulsed on the ground at his feet, foam dripping from his mouth. His mother’s lifeless hanging body, her face tinged with blue from the lack of oxygen. The sounds of grunts coming from the closed door, laced with cries and whimpers. The paralyzing fear that turned the blood in his veins to ice. A gut-twisting knowing that if he found the strength to open the door, his life would be forever changed. The look on her face as her innocence was stolen.
“Mikel, baby, wake up. It’s just a dream.” Remy’s angelic voice broke through the nightmare, bringing him back to life.
He blinked open his eyes, the room still dark. His mind was spinning as he turned to focus on her soft arms wrapping tightly around him. Where am I?
Right. Dancing at The Shipwreck, and then they’d come back here to his room and fucked his worries away. He’d lost himself, driven his demons back to the shadows of his mind while inside his Dove.
“Shhhh. You’re safe. I’m here,” she soothed.
He relaxed into her arms, resting his head against her damp T-shirt-clad chest. Reaching out, he found the source of the wetness was coming from his own eyes. He was crying. He never cried.
Boys don’t cry, only sissies do.
Are you a sissy?
You like dick?
His father’s words rang in his mind.
An all-encompassing need to prove he was a man, that he was strong, possessed him. Grasping at anything to shake this feeling from him, he kissed Remy, lifting the shirt to expose her bare stomach.
“I need you.” The words grated from his throat, raw and revealing far too much.
She kissed him back, her hands pulling him closer in her sweet silent consent. Climbing on top of her, he spread her thighs apart. His chest ached. Shame and guilt crawled up his spine, slithering around his rib cage, and squeezed. “I need you. Make me feel better, Remy.” Take the pain away.
She kissed him harder, infusing her brightness into him. He drank in her goodness, seeking the relief she always brought. The urges inside him raged. Everything was splintering and cracking, brutally shredding him to pieces.
You’re nothing.
You’re a failure.
You should kill yourself and put us all out of our misery.
You weren’t good enough.
You failed her.
You’re weak.
Selfish.
Fuckup.
Pussy.
Obliterating pain coursed through him until he buried himself deep inside her. Instant bliss. He thrust, chasing the ecstasy, the high, like a violent sickness holding him captive.
His ears rang as the pressure built with his impending orgasm. He gripped her thigh with one hand and fisted her hair with another as he slammed into her. He came with an unstoppable force, his vision shattering. White-hot light pierced the darkness. But it was only temporary.
“Wait.”
His heart raced in his chest, his euphoria cut short. Remy was looking up at him with wide eyes. What have I done? He pulled out of her, his semen dripping down her thigh. Fuck! In his emotional state, he hadn’t thought to use a condom.
“Remy, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking straight.” Worry tightened his chest. He’d been so selfish, seeking pleasure to pull him out of the dark pit his memories always thrust him into.
