Tainted

1 - Vee: Only Mine

"Don't," I whispered, my head propped up against his bare chest, moving with each inhalation of his breath. His hand that skimmed the skin of my arm froze and he shifted uncomfortably underneath of me.

It was almost funny how his body tensed up at my one, barely audible word. I played with a loose thread of the covers strewn across our bodies, refocusing my attention on everything but his reaction; his hard grip on my waist faltered, and it wasn't a good sign.

Maybe it was wrong of me to demand such a thing from him, almost like demanding a teacher not to teach or a student to not procrastinate. I knew it was his nature to objectify, because he couldn't have stopped even if he'd wanted to.

And just like that, I couldn't take it back my command even if I'd wanted to.

"What?" he asked, his tone grave. I sighed, lifting my head off of his chest to avoid discomfort. Of course, the tense atmosphere I'd created diffused in the air inevitably. "What the hell do you mean by 'don't'?"

One thing I feared more than hurting him, was him finding out the reason why I was pushing him away. It wasn't like he knew better than to try to hurt me back - I on the other hand, knew enough to believe that he would hurt me only as revenge before he regretted it. That was how the cycle of Colt worked.

"I don't want to do this," I whispered, avoiding his eyes. "I - I can't do this anymore. I didn't want it to come to this, but it has... And I can't anymore."

He stared at me for what felt like hours before he said anything. I covered my face with my hands and tried to focus on my breathing; I couldn't believe I kept rambling on as if he'd care about what I had to say.

I would continue to convince myself - condition my mind - into believing that he didn't really care about me. He didn't, and now it was time to move forward. I always was the one left, I had always had the upper hand; I couldn't allow this time to be any different.

I couldn't tell him, it was physically impossible for me to just outright say it to him. The countless number of times I'd whisper it to myself before I walked up to his door, or I'd stand in front of my bathroom mirror and stare myself down as I repeated it...

Fuck, I was driving myself insane. Insane with guilt due to my lack of courage. I was a flat out coward.

And just when I thought that maybe I'd be able to tell him... He'd whisk me away and touch me until he was gratifying and I was numb with both pain and pleasure.

Not that I minded - the pain was something I deserved. It was a bittersweet relationship I'd had with him, and he knew it too.

He called me his drug - his addiction that he'd abuse until he ran out of it. Until I ran out.

And now, I was running; I was running far away and I didn't have any intentions of looking back. I couldn't run far, but I need an escape from this sensual lust-trap... We both needed an escape.

The toughest challenge was getting him to be gentler with me in this short time. The hair pulling and back arching was as far as I'd let him, but only recently.

"Colt, please," I'd complain to him while he devoured the skin on my neck. "You're hurting me."

To anybody else, it would've looked like he ignored what I'd asked and continued to do what he'd wanted, but only I knew.

His body would automatically relax, his grip on my wrist tight, but no longer painful. He'd grown to have a soft spot for me, and I knew it. I knew that the mask he'd portray to everyone else was a defying side to Colt.