As Brad grips onto my throat, the pressure in my head swells. My body demands air, but I resist its primal desires. All I need is to snap my fingers twice—our safety signal—and Brad will release me, but I don’t want him to. He gazes down at me, his face locked in an angry glare. Like he's not fucking me, but an enemy.
I love it. Despite the new therapist I'm seeing, I've found I can't shake this dark desire that lingers within me.
My wrists bound to his headboard in Velcro cuffs, I shake on the bed as he fucks me like the god he is. A bead of sweat streams down his face and slides over the beauty mark on his cheek—the perfect complement to that magnificent face.
He releases my throat and grabs my nipples, squeezing tight. It hurts like fucking hell, but in just the right way.
He leans down and spits across my face, and I lick my lips to get what I can inside me. He spits again directly into my mouth. Then he releases one of my nipples and shoves his thumb in my mouth, grinding the saliva into my gums until I taste iron. I suck on his thumb the way I would suck on a cock.
It's been over a month since Aaron's attempted murder. Since I killed him when I pumped him full of that shit he stuck Brad with.
The police reopened the investigation into Keegan Rafferty's death. Roger’s and Brad’s statements; the letter that the police determined was a fake; and the bondage gear and drugs discovered in Aaron’s dorm room, have convinced investigators that Aaron played a major role in Keegan’s death. And even though Brad confessed his part in covering up the murder, after what Aaron did to me that night, the investigators suspect Brad was drugged and framed so that Aaron could manipulate him into helping cover up his crime. As for Roger, the DA isn’t pressing charges against him for assaulting me, as we discovered through his and Jesse’s statements that he was just as much a pawn in Aaron’s sadistic games as Brad. Roger assured me it was too dark for him to recognize me from earlier that night, and while I believe him and agree it wasn’t his fault, that knowledge can’t take away how violated that experience has left me feeling. At least I won’t have to face him again.
Since the incident, his family discovered his secret, and he’s been withdrawn from Rayden. Rumor has it his parents sent him to an anti-gay camp. The media’s passed around a lot of rumors since the discovery of the new evidence surrounding Keegan Rafferty’s death, and it’s been a PR nightmare for Alpha Theta Mu.
I tug at the cuffs as Brad grips tight onto my thighs and forces into me.
For the first few weeks after the assault, I had Brad inside me repeatedly. Taking me. Filling me with his fingers. I hoped if he could be rough enough, he could scrape off the flesh that Roger violated, but I can’t be free of that experience. It haunts me just like my brother’s face haunts me. And now Aaron’s too.
I know Jesse still feels like crap about his part in it all, and although I told him it wasn’t his fault—that he was manipulated by Aaron—our friendship is over. Not just because of what he did to me, but because of what I did to him.
Energy rushes through me in powerful waves as Brad slams into my prostate. He claws at my flesh, drawing pink marks where he scratches.
It feels so good. So right. He's everything I've ever needed in a man.
He grips my throat again and squeezes.
The hate in his expression is more severe tonight than usual. The horror of that night has only intensified how brutal he’s been with me.
His grip tightens and my body wiggles in protest. The pressure that swells in my head feels as good as it always does. It makes me think of how nice it would be if he held on just a little too long.
A selfish, dark desire fills me as I feel a wave of energy rush into my cheeks.
I ball my hands into fists to fight myself from offering the signal. He’ll be so mad if he catches on to what I’m up to, but this is what I’ve always wanted from him. He can free me. He can give me the ease I so desperately crave.
Blue and black spots dance before me.
They call to me.
Brad is just angry enough that I believe he doesn’t realize how far he’s going. I need to hold out a little longer. If this doesn’t work, he’ll be so mad, but this is the perfect opportunity. Through our other encounters, I’ve convinced him that I’ll offer the signal before things go too far. I’ve led him to believe it’s safe for him to unleash his darkness on me. And I’ve seen how much effort it requires for him to snap out of his state once I offer the signal.
This is my moment.
The spots before me, shifting through a range of colors, grow larger as I feel myself steadily losing consciousness. A rush of excitement fills me. Better than any high I’ve ever experienced. Better than even the most powerful climax with Brad.
It isn’t the promise of relief for a moment, but forever.
Break me, Brad. Save me from all the pain. Save me from this nightmare.