Chapter 13 Aston #3
I go utterly still, my eyes springing back open just as hot warmth shoots inside me. I’m not even sure if he’s made it even an inch inside me. I feel it streaming down the inside of my thighs. Pooling at my balls.
He didn’t even fuck me.
He didn’t even fuck me.
I’m dimly aware of him pulling back and using my hot, tingling flesh to wipe the cum off his cock. Using me as his own personal rag.
“There,” he says flatly. And before I know what’s happening, he reaches around me to shove his cum-soaked fingers in my mouth. Deep enough to hit the back of my throat and make me gag. “Happy now?”
I sputter when he releases me, all while trying to catch every drop he’s so generously given me.
“Enjoy it, because it's the last taste you'll ever get of me."
Blinking heavily, I barely register his words as I use my boneless arms to push up off the mattress. Nearly stumbling to the floor when I find my feet. A quick glance down shows my cock is red-raw, shaft glistening with sticky pre-cum. The hue matches my sneakers.
Behind me, I feel wetness dribbling out of my sore yet barely used hole.
“Now, get dressed and get the fuck out of my sight.”
“What, no snuggle?” I mumble, running my fingers through my hair.
Fuckkkk, is this what blue balls feels like?
I can safely say I’m not a fan.
A hand whips out, gripping me by the jaw, wrenching me around to face him.
I stumble forward, my chest bumping against his. He’s still dressed, while I’m over here, in nothing but my flimsy angel wings and red high-tops, skin flushed and bruised, covered in sweat and cum.
Cum that isn’t mine.
Black, murderous eyes glare down at me, and I gulp before I can stop it. My tender throat screaming in protest.
Chills break out across my neck as a prickle of awareness scrapes along the back of my mind the longer I stare into those vacant orbs. Flashes of images flicker over my vision, but like always, that night is mostly shrouded in black.
Maybe I messed him up more than I thought. Something twinges in my gut at the thought. My eye twitching with a pulse of pain.
But before I can dwell on it, Vale blinks, and whatever weirdness was there a second ago is gone, and I’m being shoved away like I’m nothing more than a useless, discarded rag doll.
He grabs the white, wrinkled sheet from the ground, balls it up, and throws it at my chest. Without a word, he stomps toward the door, only pausing when a muffled moan sounds from the bed.
His hand clenches around the doorknob, and he hangs his head before glancing over his shoulder. I follow his gaze to where little Seth struggles to move. His eyes are cracked to slits, head drooping like it weighs a thousand pounds.
“Mmrr,” he says. Moans, really.
“Great,” Vale mutters.
I cast another glance toward the door, my brows knitting when I catch the tick in Vale’s jaw as he scrubs his hands over his hair. His gaze is trained on the ground, but he suddenly seems miles away, lost in thought.
I take that as my sign to go. I didn’t quite get what I wanted…but I got something? No use pressing my luck.
Patience, little grasshopper.
I’m also just…well, confused.
Something feels…off.
Quickly, quietly, I wrap the sheet around my waist, knotting it against my hip bone where it starts to sag. Running a hand through my hair, I adjust my crown, wincing when my fingers catch on a knot.
Without another word, I easily side-step a mute Vale and throw open the door. Leaving whatever that was—that…feeling, that…churning sensation—behind.
This must be what being drunk feels like. Buzzed. That’s all this is, I tell myself.
And if I’m feeling a little more…used than usual…
By the one person I never expected to treat me that way…
Well, then, so be it.
He’s drunk too, a voice reminds me. You also drugged his boyfriend, sooo…
And I breathe a little easier, nodding to myself.
He’ll come around.
Plus, it’s not like that wasn’t hot as fuck. The fact I’m still half hard proves as much. And there’s also the whole Seth of it all. Like come on. Vale cheated right in front of him. Barely conscious or not. There’s no way their relationship will survive this.
So, yeah, it’s definitely the booze making me feel all weird and spacey.
Loud, heavy rap music bowls me over when I emerge from the bedroom, intermingling with the raucous noises of the party still going on strong below.
A couple people lingering by the stairs turn their wide eyes my way when they notice me strutting toward them, gazes dropping to my bare chest. I smirk and give them a wink. They’re lucky the sheet is bunched enough around my waist it hides my lingering arousal.
They all but throw themselves out of the way, allowing me to pass by.
More stares greet me as I make my descent, weaving through the bodies loitering along the stairs and down the hall. An open bottle of rum just sitting unattended on an end table grabs my attention, so I grab it, bringing the lip to my mouth.
Not like there’s any point stoppin’ now.
Music is blasting from the surround-sound speakers, tickling my ear drums. With each resounding thud of the bass, I’m surprised the foundation doesn’t collapse.
Some people laugh when they notice me. Some sneer. Some look horrified by the sheer sight of me.
My skin tingles. Chest feels all warm. Cheeks hurt from sucking in a smile.
I can feel their eyes boring holes into my exposed skin, tracing the bites and bruises that no doubt litter my back, my neck, my arms as I pass them.
My grin turns rogue at the thought, at the images I have in my head.
Did they hear us? Did they hear the way I begged him?
Can they see the wet spots in the sheet from Vale’s cum leaking down my legs?
He might not have fucked me, but he sure did make a pretty mess of me.
Just as I reach outside, I hand the near-empty bottle to some greasy dude smoking a joint.
With a wink, I say, “Thanks for having me.”
Leaving him gaping after me, I skip down the steps, throw my arms out, grin up at the moon, and howl.