Mika

Seventy-Seven Mika

"I love you," I whisper against his lips, which earns me another assertive kiss, nibbling and gnawing at my lips until they're raw and red. 

Asiel shifts his hands to my ass, and I jump, wrapping my legs around his waist as he carries us to the bed. He doesn't say it back, which breaks me a little, but he's probably too excited and can't wait to have me. Nothing is gentle tonight. Asiel pinches me, bites me, but never apologizes for his brutal force.

He shoves my thighs apart with the same rough vigor and thrust his finger inside me. An embarrassing scream escapes my throat from the intensity of the angle he's pumping his fingers in and out. My legs violently shake, and I can't help but let my eyes roll backward.

"Oh my god," I moan.

My stomach tightens with the familiar sensation of an orgasm, causing me to see the fucking constellations. Before I can erupt like a volcano, Asiel pulls out his fingers and clean my white arousal on the sheets. Without warning, he thrusts his dick through my lips, stretching me to the brim.

His pants grow louder as he thrusts in harder, and harder, and harder. It doesn't get gentler by the moment, but not in a harmful way. It feels fucking amazing, but I couldn't help but feel a hollowness blooming in my chest. His hips angrily pound against mine, sloppily with no rhythm.

"I love you," I mutter the phrase into his ear and he drops his head on my shoulder.

Nothing.

Just like before.

He doesn't say it back. All Asiel does is continue fucking me like a barbarian-- wild, violently, ferociously. The problem isn't that it doesn't feel good. The problem is, it feels like I'm fucking someone else. Not my Asiel. It's like I'm in Diablo's Paraiso all over again. Being used for my body and nothing more-- because that's what escorts are for.

I cling to Asiel's back, digging my nails into his skin as tears fall, realization slowly sinking in. My skin arches because of the force of his hands when he grips my hips, arching me up and thrashing into me. Droplets of tears tumble from my eyes as I hold on to Asiel, trying to find any shred of pride.

But I'm failing.

An orgasm rips through me, but I can't enjoy it knowing the underlines of this situation. However, it doesn't stop my body from shuddering with desire. People don't fuck like this unless they're angry. Asiel is fucking fuming.

A comic laugh wants to slip out from me.

This is his way of getting back at me? To use me the same way every guy I know did? I didn't realize how much it would fucking hurt. Pain slices through me as my heart rips for him. It hurts enough to make my breath catch in my throat. Tears slip like an open faucet, drenching my cheeks.

It's ironic how a body works.

Even as I cry from a broken heart, the physical pleasure simmers in my body. Asiel stills inside me, panting with his eyes closed-- detached. My heart thumps in my chest, collapsing with each passing beat. I knew this would devastate me.

But the real thing is always worse than the concept of it.

"You know," I whisper, my voice coming out raw and broken.

For a millisecond, his emerald eyes bore into mine before he darts away and gets off of me. He's devoid of emotion. Asiel has disappeared into the abyss. He changes into his Brioni suit, straightening out every inch of the material on his body. Sniffling, I get up from the mattress to look for my clothing, but Asiel grabs my hands, jerking them above my head.

"What the?" I mutter as I don't resist him and follow him to the headboard.

He snaps a freezing handcuff on one of my wrists and attaches the other half to the headboard, tugging on it for insurance. What the hell is happening? I hate how he's staying silent. My tears fall without mercy, blurring my vision, embarrassing me, robbing me of any dignity I had left as I stand here, naked.