20
My vision is distorted. My head is pounding like I've downed three bottles of liquor in succession.
There's gaps in my memories. Between the alcohol, pills, and weed, I disassociated again, falling prey to my own swirling past.
The last thing I remember is Kieran fucking me, and I let him.
Again. He unleashes something within me.
Pain? Self-loathing? Hatred? The same sadness I see in myself, I see in him.
I want to cipher his secrets. I smack my lips together a few times.
My mouth is dry like sawdust. My entire body is sore.
He took what he wanted and left no doubt. My eyes flutter open. They struggle adjusting to the bright light above the bed.
“Nightshade. It's time to live out the fantasies you crave,” a gruff voice rolls through my ears. I blink a few times until my vision regains focus. Kieran's massive body is bolted on top of me.
“There she is,” he cocks his head to the side. His green eyes are icy and cold. His curls are wild and untamed.
I crinkle my nose and grumble. “Get the fuck off of me!” I use my weight to attempt to free myself, but he doesn't budge. Of course he doesn't. My fists bang against his hardened chest. Then I realize, I’m naked. Butt ass naked. My hands fall to the cold satin sheets.
A smirk curls his lips. “You're a beautiful canvas. I couldn't help myself. The only regret is not getting to hear your cries.” His lips creep over my neck. His tattooed hand strokes my blonde strands from my face. I'm too stunned to fight. What the fuck happened? What psycho bullshit is this?
“Wha—” I stop myself. The ache. A strong ache between my legs stops me in my tracks. He finally pushes off me, leaving me empty and cold. My gaze snaps down and I see it. A fresh piercing. On my fucking clit.
“Are you serious?!” I screech, dumbfounded.
He trots over to the dresser. He leans against it and tilts his head to the side. “Relax,” he says nonchalantly. He digs a joint from his pocket and lights it. He takes a slow drag.
Relax.
Relax?
“You want me to relax?” I jolt up from the bed, naked, uncaring if he sees it all. Clearly he already did. “You fucking pierced my clit. I'm sore! Why would you do that!?” I shout like a lunatic.
He shrugs. Fucking shrugs. He takes another hit. He extends his hand out offering me some.
I slam my eyes closed to regain some clarity and hopefully not pop off. My hands massage my temples. “You pierced me. For zero reason at all?” I repeat. He laughs. Laughs. His green eyes flash me something dark and sinister, yet arrogant.
“This is insane. You are insane.” I wag a finger. “You belong in a damn prison or something. You're sick!”
He looks unfazed. He must be used to hateful words. If this is how he treats all his conquests it baffles me why they'd keep crawling back into the arms of such a sadistic fuck.
“Want a hit?” he asks casually. His voice doesn't show a hint of remorse.
I start plucking my discarded clothes from the bedroom floor, hobbling into them.
“No! What I want is to be far the fuck away from you! You fucking freak!”
I spew. I'm not usually so hateful, but the words fall from my lips like vomit.
I'm angry with myself. Angry I allowed him to fuck me again.
Angry that I'm sore. Angry that he pierced me like he has some claim over my body.
“Asshole,” I hiss, flipping him off. I dress quickly.
He stays plastered to the dresser, watching me with fascination.
He wears that smug smile I want to smack off his face.
“Stay away from me. I mean it,” I warn. He still doesn't say a word.
I make my way toward the door. I slip my heels on and exit through the door, slamming it closed behind me.