The Worst Drug

•Put A Bullet In Your Throat•

AN: The majority of this chapter contains rough/graphic sexual content. Please skip if you're sensitive to this kind of thing, but enjoy otherwise 😉 There will be another warning before the actual smut...SHE IS CONSENTING TO EVERYTHING!!

                          {•Unedited•}
                         ~Vina's POV~

           Idris gets out of the car when we pull of to the house. My hands feel hot and sweaty under my lap and my arms are sore from how tight the rope and seatbelts are holding me in. He tried talking to me on the ride here but I wouldn't mumble a word. The thing about this is that it's not like my family will be upset we disappeared.
   He opens the door and leans inside. His knee presses into the seat as he starts untying me first. As soon as the rope is off I already get some relief. Glancing off the side I see how red my skin is where the rope was. He finishes unbuckling next and helps pull me out by my arm. Standing on my feet is swat his hands away.
    "Go inside," he tells me, pointing at the door. I cross my sore arms. "Fuck it," he says under his breath and bends down. One of his arms rests under my knees, the other at my back to carry me bridal style. He unlocks the door and stumbles inside. I shove him away when he sets me on the ground and hang the keys up on the hook next to the door. "You need to learn how to listen."
   "I'm not a child," I snap at him. Grabbing me by my neck he presses himself against me. My body shivers, my tongue separating my dry lips.
   "Then stop fucking acting like one unless I'm going to throw you over my lap and spank your little ass red like one," he warns, pointing his finger at me. He lets me go with a gentle shove. My eyes dance around as he walks into the kitchen. Everything is the same as it was when I left. He's kept the place clean and dusted. The only differences are the stick figure drawings on the refrigerator and dolls in the corner of the living room.
    "What's the point in having me here?" I ask in annoyance. He takes out a water bottle, ignoring my question. Stomping over I grab his shoulder and spin him around. I know I'm not actually that strong and he turned willingly. He shrugs his shoulder away from me. I flinch away, taking in a sharp breath. "Answer me."
    "You need to watch your tone," he says with a smile, pressing the bottle to his lips.
"You need to stop acting like you're the boss of me. I'm getting sick of it; we aren't even really together anymore!" Grabbing the front of my top he yanks me closer and slaps me with his free hand. My face swings to the aide, gasping from the hot sting.
"What the hell?" I ask, my voice shaking. Reaching up to touch my cheek the skin is palm made vicious contact with stings. He lets me go and I stumble away from him, rubbing my cheek. Hesitant, I turn to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My right cheek is bright red from his hit. Blinking back tears, my eyes find their way back over to Idris still standing in the kitchen looking pissed off.
"Stop being a little bitch. You're fine," he snaps through clenched teeth. Looking at him it's like I'm not even standing in the same room as what was once my husband. I wonder what it was over the years to make him change, if it was really something I did to set him off in the long run. Running his fingers through his hair, he straightens his posture and fixes to come my way.
"Please...please just stay over there. I don't want to be anywhere near you right now," I tell him, trying to walk away towards the bedroom but he manages to grab a fist full of my hair and pull me back. I cry out in pain, my hand shooting up to half my scalp. When my back meets his chest he whips me around and slaps me again. My head flings to the side from the impact, more tears making their way to the surface.
"You don't tell me anything, got it?" He tells me, making sure his tight fist pulls at my sensitive scalp. My heart beats fast in my chest as I look at him in fear. I've always known what to expect with him in some way, but not now, this is like a complete stranger. "Your little boyfriend has been blowing your phone up. He's worried about you...Corey."
     My eyes drop to his lips. They're parted so temptingly. I take deep breath, my hand holding his wrist that's wrapped around my neck. "Stop, Idris."
   "Not until you tell me this is over," he says. My eyes narrow up at him. "I can't handle you and him together, Corvina. I need you to myself; I keep imaging you and him together, him fucking you and it pisses me off. You're for me only."
     "I'm not yours. We're separated, get that through your head!" Clenching his jaw he opens the drawer behind him and takes out a gun. My eyes widen as he sets the bullet in place and brings it close to my face. I try moving my head away but his grip on my neck tightens. It's either air or the gun; I choose the gun. The barrel of the gun parts my lips. My mouth opens, a loud gasp leaving my lips as he pushes it deeper I my mouth. I know he keeps the guns around the house loaded, of his finger slips I'm gone.
"I will put a bullet through that throat of yours like you've never been anything to me," he says, flinching his hand. I do the same, pressing myself harder against the wall. My jaw aches from being held open by the gun between my lips. He lets of my neck and takes the a knife out of his pocket, flicking it open. He presses the cold metal against he front of my neck. My heart beats so hard I hear it in my ears. "Tell me you're going to stay away from Sin."
My eyes snap down to the gun that's in my mouth, keeping me from answering him. He pulls it out, my lungs gasping to intake air properly. Hunching over, he uses his forearm to push me back up. "You won't hurt me," I tell him, knowing him too well. The sinister smile on his face when he presses his hard body against mine, his lips brushed against my arm, fingers twisting the knife so the sharp tip presses into my carotid artery.
"Why are you breathing like that then if I'm not scaring you?" He questions. My face turns red. Setting the gun to the side, he slips his hand between my legs. I squeeze my legs shut, trying to squirm but the placement of the knife makes me nervous to move too much. "I get it now. I'm turning you on." He's only touching me through my shorts but he can tell how bothered he has me. There's no point in my underwear, they're soaked from my desire for him.
"You're too soft to actually hurt me." Cocking a brow, he smiles.
"I love you, but I'm also a killer. I can ignore when I love someone," he tells me, his voice deep and threatening to set me straight. A chill runs down my spine. The thought of him hurting me does the opposite of what it should. Being scared of him only makes me turned on. "And if I have to I will either end your life or his. Which one would you rather it be?" His hot breaths fan across my lips.
"Let me go," I tell him for the hundredth time. My hand whips up to grip his wrist as he rubs me harder with his palm. I let my eyes close.
"You're the one holding onto me." Keeping my head pinned back with his arm he leans down and kisses the side of my neck. Sighing, I let myself give into him. There's no use in denying what he's already taking. I know if I truly wanted him to stop he would but I don't. He was right about what he told me in the barn. I will always need him in every way. Something about me pulls towards him no matter how hard I try to ignore wanting him. After this is done and over with it'll be awkward.
"I can tell you're thinking too much," he says. Turning my head to the side the top of the knife grazes my delicate skin. The sharp metal nips the front of my neck before coming to a stop. Reaching behind my head he grabs a hand full of my hair by the roots again and yanks it back. My head hits the wall. My eyes squeeze shut. "Just relax or this is going to end really bad for you," he tells me, running the knife up underneath my jaw.
"M-Maybe I want you to hurt me," I tell him breathlessly. His my chest heaves as I look up at him from the crotch up. Feeling my back start to ache I shift in place, trying to roll my hips with his. The knife presses dangerously close into my skin. I smile up at the ceiling.