Dont Blame Me

Chapter 19

I don't regret it. Not any more than when I stuck a gun in her cunt and made her come. And I know how fucked up that is-to take something without consent. I know that's what I'm fighting against every day.

She hasn't given it to me yet, but she will. I know my little mouse better than she knows herself. She's in too much denial to see how drawn she is to me. If she wasn't, she wouldn't instigate, pushing to get her clit bitten, knowing damn well I stay true to my word.
If she genuinely wasn't intrigued, she wouldn't have texted me back in the first place. Her actions speak an entirely different language than her words. A language filled with desire and pleas-she just hasn't learned to translate it yet. Doesn't make it right, nor does it justify it. But I can't make myself regret tasting something so fucking sweet-so fucking perfect. Even if she didn't want to want it. Because that's what that was.
She knew I was going to follow through with my threat if she told me to fuck off again, and she kept doing it anyways. And that tells me that my little mouse can't control how she really feels. This means that whatever she feels, it's fucking addicting.

She fought me so hard initially, her anger and ire only turning my blood to molten lava. The harder she fought me, the harder my cock fought against the confines of my jeans. I wanted so badly to release the zipper and plunge myself deep inside that sweet little pussy. I was close-too fucking close to doing it. Once those cries of pleasure reached my ears, and she gripped me in her hold, shamelessly grinding against my face-I was nearly done for.

The only thing that stopped me was the look on her face. When she was coming on my face, she was unashamed. But as soon as the orgasm drained from her body and the kiss was no longer consuming us, she felt nothing but shame.
It's going to take time, I remind myself.
I crack my neck, releasing a shuddering breath.
I'm sitting in my Mustang, my dick still painfully pressed against my zipper. Just as I decide to say fuck it-jacking off in a car is the least of my sins and wouldn't be the first fucking time-my phone blares in the console next to me. I curl my hand into a tight fist, my muscles straining as I fight the overwhelming urge to bash it into the fucking window. I don't think I've had blue balls like this since high school when Cho Miyeon jacked me off in the locker room. It was the first time a girl touched my dick, and I didn't even get to finish because Coach walked in before I could shoot my load off on her pretty tits.

I snatch up the phone and bring it to my ear without even looking. "Yeah?" I snap, my frustration boiling to dangerous levels.

"Didn't get laid tonight?" Jay croons through the phone, his voice laced with mocking amusement.

I crack my neck again, growling when my muscles don't pop and give me any relief.
"Jay," I growl.
I refuse to touch my dick while on the phone with him. As much as I need to lessen the pressure, Jay's voice would make me feel sick.

"Satan's Affair is coming to town," he starts. I open my mouth-gearing up to ask him why the fuck that would matter to me.

"And I got confirmation there're tickets with four little birdy's names on them," he continues. I snap my mouth shut.

"Why would they go there?" I ask, completely confused why four grown-ass men would go to a haunted fair.

"Prime girls for the pickin', my friend. And now there's a ticket with your name on it."

I sigh. "When?"

"Three weeks from now. Plenty of time to go to the clubs a few times and start showing that pretty face of yours."

Sighing again, I pluck the pack of cigarettes from the console, bring it to my mouth, and slide out a cigarette with my teeth. I grab my lighter and flick the flame, inhaling deeply as the cherry blares red.