“Do you understand how fucked up that was? You used me and I let you, because I thought we had some cosmic love that could beat all your stupid demons, but you fucking threw me away to jump into a relationship with a woman who didn't even want you back."
At this point, I'm just flat out crying. I hate every tear that I spilled for this man. I fucking despise him for leading me on for so long, only to shatter me like this. Somewhere, deep down, I thought surely he had feelings for me. But it's all been a game, his personal vendetta just because of who I am.
“I gave you everything,” I spit out. “And you just took it out of revenge.”
He hangs his head, and I don’t like seeing him looking defeated, but I’m consumed by hurt. By the need to protect myself from this man who I thought was better than this.
“Oh, God, the laughs you must have gotten from the silly Moore girl, hopelessly pining after Devon Andre. I was so fucking stupid to think—”
“Shut up,” he cuts me off, his words icy. He rushes me until my back hits the wall. His hand lands on my waist, digging into my hip to keep me in place as I squirm to get away from him. “You are not the silly Moore girl. You are smart and beautiful and strong, and the most amazing woman I have ever met, and I fucking hate you for it because it still doesn't change who you are. I knew who you were the first time I laid my eyes on you,” he chokes the words out. “And I've wanted you regardless. I wanted you ever since I knew how to want a woman. You are the worst thing that's ever happened to me.”
His mouth slides down my throat, his warm breath tickling the sensitive skin of my neck, and a shiver runs through my body. That’s all it takes from him; he has such an effect on me, always has. Holding me tight against his body, he talks into my ear.
“I couldn't get you out of my fucking mind. Every living thought I had was stained by you, out there in the darkness, my hands all over your body, your fingers running through my hair, your moans and sighs. I fucking hate you for being my weakness.”
His mouth finds mine, and he bites on my lip, punishing me. “I needed to get you out of my head, out of my heart, out of my soul. You owned me, and I wanted myself back.” His hand tangles in my hair, and he pulls it back harshly, exposing my neck. “I just want myself back,” he ends on a whisper, and then his teeth skim my neck, making my breath hitch.
He trails his mouth up over my throat, his hand making its own way down my stomach, where he finds the button of my jeans and pops it open. He kisses along my jaw as he slides the zipper down, and reaches his hand into my panties. I gasp as his fingers slowly inch down and he slides first one, then two, and starts to explore, thrusting them in and out in a delicious rhythm. He pulls my head back gently and kisses my lips. His hand travels down the side of my face, over my collarbone, between my breasts and down to my stomach, finding its way under my shirt, cupping my breast. I moan as he rubs my clit with his thumb, making me quiver with his probing fingers, and his tongue delves into my mouth, stopping only to bite on my lips. I can feel his arousal pressing into my side, and it turns me on even more knowing that I have this effect on him. I hide my face in his neck, biting gently as the first wave of pleasure hits me. My thighs start shaking and Devon wraps his arm around my back to hold me up. I tear my mouth away from his neck and arch my back into the wall behind me, cursing as the pleasure starts to take over my body.
“Leighton,” Devon growls. I open my eyes and look into his as I ride the climax, his heavy-lidded, burning gaze making me lose myself even more.
He pulls his hand out of my panties and pins me against the wall, sliding my jeans and underwear in one go down my legs and taking my lips in a rough kiss. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull myself up. He grips my ass and lifts me up so I can wrap my legs around him. My hands reach down to work on his pants without breaking our kiss, his lips against mine urgent, as I slide his boxers down with my feet, and then wrap my hand around his thick cock. I start stroking, loving the feel of him. I quicken my pace, feeling his fingers dig into my back, his kisses losing their rhythm. His cock is hard as steel, as I need him inside of me.
He steps back, slipping out of my hand. My feet hit the floor as he grabs for the hem of my shirt and takes it off, letting it fall. Unbuttoning his shirt, he leans down and grabs his wallet from his pant pocket. I lean back against the cool wall, watching as he rips the little foil packet with his white teeth and then uses his hands to sheath his erection.
My stomach flutters and I bite my lip in anticipation, glancing up in time to see him flash me a devilish smile, the first real one since I've been here. My own lips curve into a smile in response, and slowly, he leans in and takes them into another kiss, this time slow and torturous, taking his time to explore every inch of my mouth with his. His tongue tentatively touches mine before he pulls back and pays attention to my lower lip. This man can kiss.
He hooks my knee over his arm and lifts it up to secure it on his hip, looking straight into my eyes, using his other hand to guide his cock, teasing my opening and clit in turn until I whimper in frustration. We both suck in a breath as he enters me in one long thrust, and it's a mixture of pleasure and pain and absolute fucking completeness.
I arch my back as he starts moving, controlled thrusts that leave me frantic for more. I squeeze his biceps with my hands as his mouth trails kisses down my neck, his movements becoming faster, harder, until he's just plain fucking me, giving me everything he has and taking everything I have to give.
The first wave hits me so hard I whimper his name, which he drowns with his mouth. I feel my whole body tremble, the pleasure spreading all the way to my toes. I know he’s close when his breathing becoming heavier, his thrusts less controlled and wilder, frenzied. He slams into me once more, and grunts into my hair, his hand pressing into my back, connecting every inch of our bodies. He lifts his head from the hollow of my neck, searching my eyes with his as we both reach that climax, our breaths mingling, our bodies speaking without words.
DEVON
I find myself awake in the middle on the night again, staring at the ceiling. Leighton's back is curled into my side, her breathing even, and my possessive hand is on her waist.
And, as it usually does after I fuck her senseless, guilt eats at me.
I look at her and all I think is failure. Weak. Pathetic.
I know I'm a prick. No one made me do it. I've blamed it on her and her seductive ways, but if I'm honest, she didn't seduce me.
By the time I was seventeen, I could pick her out in a room full of women. The way she walked, the way she laughed, the way she would flip her black hair, her scent. I wouldn't have to think twice about it.
It consumed me, this obsession I had.
I hated every boy, then every man that glanced her way. I hated her boyfriends enough to want to hurt them, and her girlfriends just because they could be around her and not have to ignore her like I did.
I stalked her; I'm not ashamed to admit it. I always knew where she was, and whom she was with, even during her little disappearing acts. More than once, I caught myself looking at her, begging her to acknowledge me, and she always did, holding my gaze for just a second longer than she did other strangers', and for that, I was grateful. The crumbs of her attention I got every now and then were enough to feed my addiction.
Until they weren't. As with every drug, I craved more. It's the forbidden fruit; I know that now. I resisted her for so long, and so stubbornly, and it was bound to happen, one way or another. And when it did, I couldn't get enough of it.