“So what? This is some kind of sick lesson you’re trying to teach me?” she asked breathlessly. Her pussy clenched around my fingers, milking them, wanting more than I was giving. I pumped faster, hooking my index finger inside of her. “You think making me…come is going to make everything better?” she asked bitterly, a stammer in her words.
“Who said I wanted to make anything better?” I asked, running my nose along her neck and biting down on her earlobe, inhaling her vanilla scent. “Maybe I just want to be the one to ruin you,” I said, against her skin. With one last thrust of my fingers her pussy clamped down, and she cried out into the night with my suspenders twisted around her hands. I didn’t know if she was trying to pull me closer or push me away. Her wetness dripping down my fingers as she rode out her climax. Her head fell forward against my shoulder. “I can’t keep you,” I whispered into her hair, echoing the voice inside my head, reminding me of the same thing over and over again since the day I brought Dre back to Mirna’s.
“I’m not yours to keep,” Dre spat bitterly between heavy breaths. Her words may have been harsh, but she didn’t move her head from my shoulder.
“No,” I said, pulling my hands out from her shorts and licking her taste from my fingers. Finally, lowering my gun. “But this pussy is all mine.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
DRE
I was just coming down from my orgasm when it occurred to me that we weren’t alone. The sound of grass rustling and whispers floated over the air from somewhere nearby. I lifted my head from Preppy’s shoulder. “Stay here,” he ordered in a whisper. With his finger on the trigger, he turned around, stepping over roots and headstones before disappearing behind the mausoleum.
The sounds of angry shouts burst from where Preppy had just gone and before I could think about what I was doing, I was running in that direction until I came upon Preppy, the barrel of his gun against someone else’s head. Someone with his chin on his chest and a needle hanging from his arm. The girl who invited me into the house was standing next to him, crying for Preppy not to shoot him.
“He owe you money or something?” the girl asked, her words slurring together, her steps faltering. She grabbed onto a headstone for support. There was no real concern in her voice. “What did Eric dooo to you?”
That’s when I knew what I’d seen in the house was real. It was Eric.
“How?” I asked, taking a step back and tripping over a root. Falling onto my ass. Preppy and the girl turned to me, and Preppy took a step toward me. “No, no,” I said, standing up on my own. Just then, Eric lifted his head and his glazed over eyes met mine.
“Hey Dre,” he said. “I knew you’d come back.” Preppy took a step back to him and smacked him in the head with the barrel of his gun, sending him back into unconsciousness. The girl started screaming, but it was as if I couldn’t hear her over the blood rushing in my ears. Over the questions. Preppy had lied to me. He hadn’t killed Eric.
Preppy made a move toward me, but the girl jumped on his back with a high-pitched screech. I left him to fight her off as I took off through the cemetery answering my own question as I ran.
Conner.
Conner was dead.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
PREPPY
I’m in so much fucking trouble.
Dre knew it was Conner I killed and not Eric. She probably hated me even more now, as if she needed more reasons to. Yet none of that mattered because regardless of how she felt, regardless of how I should’ve felt, the pure primal need to shove my cock deep inside her frail body was like nothing I’d ever experienced before in my entire fucking life.
Yup, so much fucking trouble.
After what had happened in the cemetery I was sure of one thing.
I didn’t just want to fuck her. I wanted to ruin her.
By the time I shook off the spider-junkie, Dre was gone. I searched everywhere before finally finding her in the first place I should have looked. In Mirna’s backyard. That’s where I found her lying in the grass, scribbling furiously away in a notebook.
I took a moment to admire her. I was glad I stopped her from shooting up but for a reason I couldn’t begin to explain I was fucking FURIOUS that she even wanted to. She’d just gotten over the most severe part of her withdrawals, the shakes fading to slight tremors. Her bruises had faded from angry purples, blacks, to pale yellows, but after I found her at that house I realized how rough of shape she was still in.
Too rough.
God damn it. She was fucking perfect. Flaws and all.
She’d gained weight, enough for her ass and tits to become all curvy and touchable. I should just fuck her and get it over with, but I still needed her help more than I needed a quick fuck.
I adjusted myself, trying to shift my dick so it wouldn’t be so painful, but it was pointless as it strained against my unyielding zipper. Getting my cock to go down now would be like talking a lion out of his dinner, when he already had the lamb in his mouth.
Dre had the same constant sad look about her as she stared up into the cloudless sky. I felt downright feral and was overcome with a need to possess her, OWN her—even if only temporarily.
Even if it was just for tonight.
My throbbing cock agreed.
I watched her profile as she bit down on the end of her pen, deep in thought. She might have been fragile in body and spirit, but her mouth…her mouth was an entirely different story. Cocky, snarky. Maybe it was the contrast between that bold attitude and her weakness that had me imagining all the things that mouth could do if she were on her knees looking up at me.
She paused her pen and was staring up at the stars. With her back to me she sat up on her knees, her t-shirt rode up on her, exposing her concave stomach and a flash of white cotton panties, the outline of her pussy lips clearly visible through the thin fabric. I palmed my aching cock through my pants and mentally reminded myself that it wasn’t a good idea to come in my pants like some fucking kid.
I couldn’t stay away anymore. Whether she hated me or not… There was no staying away. Not anymore.
Dre didn’t see me coming as I stepped out of the wooded backyard and into the light.
She wouldn’t see me until it was too late.
I shouldn’t fuck her.
I knew I shouldn’t.
But I’m going to anyway…
I came up behind her and peered over her shoulder as she’s yet again scribbling away in the notebook. That’s when I realized she was crying. Her shoulders were shaking and the ink on the page is smeared with her tears…and her blood. A small razor blade in her hand as small droplets of red fell from her wrist and onto the pages of her letter to someone named, Mellie.
My blood was full on boiling, anger taking over running operation Preppy where lust had just left off when I read the next sentence.
Mellie, I’m so sorry. I can’t go on like this. I won’t. I think I’m ready for it to all be over. This time for good….
After everything, she still wanted to die?