Page 77 of Fallen Rook

It was violent, toxic, and skating every technical red line of consent.

So why was I still here, on his floor, staring at the ceiling, trying not to cry? The post-orgasm numbness had incapacitated me to his floor, forcing me to process it all with him still in the room. I was pretty sure this was the part where I was supposed to beat the shit out of him, but most of the anger frothing in my chest was directed at myself, not him.

Was it because I gave out so much violence in my daily life, I felt I deserved it, too? Or because I insisted on staying, even when he’d pleaded with me to fuck off? Because I orgasmed harder than ever from what we shared?

No.

It was because when I had looked into those eyes, which bored into mine in a twisted daze, I didn’t see Tom behind them. I saw someone else. An angry, panicked stranger who had hijacked his body.

The stranger was familiar.

He was familiar, because I saw myself in him, too.

I threw my arm over my face, letting out a groan. I’d never felt as vulnerable as I did when he was inside me, and I hated that this was my first time.

Emotional pain wasn’t the only thing I had to deal with right now.

My poor rectum was never going to recuperate from the occasion. It felt raw, stuffed, and engorged. Oh, boy. My next trip to the bathroom was going to be an interesting one.

Sliding my hands from my face, I chanced a glance to my left. Tom was staring at the ceiling in a trance, jaw locked hard, his glasses nowhere in sight.

“Jesus fucking Christ. What have I done?” A shudder rippled through his body.

You lost control and took me like an animal.

He’d begged me to get out numerous times. Said he was experiencing some kind of an episode. I’d had an out. I’d chosen not to take it.

You should take it now. The man made it clear he will ruin your life.

Tom didn’t have an STI. I knew that as well as I knew he didn’t have horns and a tail. He would never fuck me otherwise. I had gotten myself checked a few days ago, when I realized where this was headed, but he didn’t know that.

None of it mattered. Not really. What mattered was that he yet again detonated all the invisible red lines between us, and even though I’d enjoyed every minute of it, it destroyed that naive part of me that trusted Tom to walk me through this uncharted territory.

I trusted him and he abused this trust. I felt stupid and young. All at once, my nickname, ‘kid,’ was almost too much to bear.

I scrambled up and collected my clothes, sniffling as I haphazardly put them on. I was self-conscious about his cum dripping down the back of my thighs, but not enough to use his stupid bathroom and prolong this event.

I was halfway to the door when I heard him croak behind me. “Enzo.”

My name on his lips sounded like a plea. I stopped but didn’t turn around. My cheeks were hot, and as the adrenaline from the orgasms subsided, I began to hate myself more and more for not stopping what happened. I wanted to claw at my skin until there was nothing left of me. To rip it out clean, once and for all.

“What do you want?” I strangled out.

“Just…stay for a minute.”

“Hard pass.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I’ve been drinking…a lot. Not that it’s an excuse. I was completely out of line. I…I shouldn’t have opened that door. I knew what was lurking behind it was too dark and fucked-up for anyone to see.”

I pressed my lips together and closed my eyes.

“Please look at me.”

I turned around. He was slumped with his back against the wall, elbows on his knees. He looked depleted, lost, and sad. So fucking sad I was actually stupid enough to feel bad for him.

“You hurt me,” I breathed out.

“I know.” He clutched his head, his elbows on his knees. “That won’t ever happen again. I can promise you that. Next time, I’m hurling myself out the goddamn window.”