Page 76 of Fallen Rook

I rode him hard. He threw his head sideways, squeezing his eyes shut as I fucked him. His face was marred with anguish and pleasure, his body was a live wire, buzzing beneath mine, cock stirring and dripping, nipples tight, toes curled.

We didn’t use protection, but I was clean—I’d never done it without a condom, not ever, not even with Matt. I got tested two months ago and hadn’t touched anyone since. If he had something, that was on my stupid ass. I’d deserve it, too.

I smashed my hips against his ass, the sound of our skin slapping, each time going deeper, harder, faster. I ravaged him blindly, with a brutality he accepted and matched. My monster met his monster in the dark, and they came out to play.

Years of cautiously controlled existence went down the drain. My meticulousness, my prized, ironclad calculating nature—all gone. Because of a twenty-six-year-old with a sick body, soft eyes, and a fragile soul.

With each of my thrusts, we sailed across the floor, the hardwood scraping my knees and burning his back. I didn’t stop. And when his whimpers of pain morphed into groans of pleasure, I knew I was hitting his prostate, and swung harder.

His inner muscles clenched around my throbbing cock as he began panting, pushing back to me, meeting me halfway. “I…ffuuucking…hate…yooou.”

“Hate me, but not enough to tell me to stop,” I taunted.

“No.” His soft eyes glittered with unshed tears. “Guess you got your fucking wish. I let you destroy me.”

The words exploded in my sternum, stealing my breath.

I was going to explode. The perfect way he took me, the flawless sensation of having him clenched around me like an iron fist… My entire existence shrank to this moment, to his body, to having him writhing and moaning under me, knowing Katya could never, ever do this to him.

Reaching for his cock between us, I grasped it in my fist.

He sobbed, but kept riding my dick, rolling his hips, meeting me thrust for thrust as he sought his release. He arched into my touch, craving the sickness I dished out to him, and loathing me all the same.

I gave his cock one stroke that ended with a squeeze to his crown. He exploded, spraying his seed all over my chest and neck. I darted my tongue to lick some of it that got on my chin, my eyes never wavering from his.

I smiled. A humorless, dejected, awful smile. “You hate me?”

He nodded, disgust dripping from his chiseled features.

“That’s all right, kid. I hate me, too.”

I unloaded so hard in his ass that I felt myself pulsing inside him.

We were both breathless when I grabbed my dick and slowly slid out of him. He winced. I stared down at his hole. It looked red and bruised, dripping with my cum. I used the tip of my finger and tucked it back inside.

Then I collapsed next to him and tumbled back to reality.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Enzo

My eyes burned, which was weird, because I wasn’t even crying.

He’d hit me.

Not only that, but he’d fucked me without lube, without a condom, and without a care in the fucking world.

And the worst part? I didn’t stop it.

I could’ve. Could’ve said the words that sat on the tip of my tongue. Could’ve punched the daylights out of him. The ability was there. Still, I’d let it happen.

I’d let it happen and now I hated both of us.

Him, for doing it.

Me, for secretly loving it.

That was the worst part, I think. It was the best fuck of my life, but none of it should’ve happened, and it made me sick that it did.